Chapter 3 Blur

The peace that had smoothed her face was replaced with an anger that caused her forehead to wrinkle. How dare he follow me!

D'Artagnan smiled at her, "This obsession of yours has got to stop, Jacqueline. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to get me alone."

Her frustration and annoyance caused her to physically tremble. Jacqueline slid unsteadily off her mount and drew her weapon. "Just say it again…"

His grin widened as he drew his rapier, "I said you were trying to get me alone." He matched her footwork as she slowly circled. Jacqueline made the first move, cutting in from the left. D'Artagnan blocked easily and returned with a downward curve that Jacqueline just as easily avoided. She drove in with a flurry of swipes that forced him to give ground. He backed off; Jacques was back.

"Why are you here?" Jacqueline called, watching for the opportune moment.

D'Artagnan replied lightly, as though they were merely having a conversation rather than a duel. "It was simple, actually. See, it took me all of five minutes to realize that you don't patrol on Sundays." Jacqueline charged in and the sound of steel clashing rang in the clearing.

"So I made my way outside," d'Artagnan jumped sideways to avoid a cut, "and found a very nice young fellow who recognized me and became so eager to help that I couldn't turn him down." Jacqueline dodged a slice herself and spun out, ready for the next round.

"I then made my way to the Northwest Gate where I noticed a delightful looking lady who recalled seeing a 'rather handsome' musketeer go by only moments before." Jacqueline growled and charged. D'Artagnan was ready and stepped aside to unbalance her attack. Her blade sailed out of her hand to clatter to the ground behind her. "Those were her exact words, I believe."

D'Artagnan's blade leveled at her throat, Jacqueline met his laughing eyes with a narrowed gaze. Suddenly, she flipped backwards, landing in just the right spot to pick up the rapier and shrug at d'Artagnan's stunned look.

"And then?" she prompted, cold smile on her own face. D'Artagnan's jaw snapped shut as he braced himself.

"Then it was just a matter of beating your old nag there," he recovered.

Jacqueline struck back, fast and hard, driving him backwards to trip over a tree root sticking out of the ground. Now it was she who held a blade at someone's throat. "Never insult my horse," she told him coolly, pressing the tip under his chin. D'Artagnan still smirked at her, but she could see a hint of fear in his eyes.

Her vision blurred…

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I stood with the smooth grip of the sword in my hand watching d'Artagnan. He whirled with a look of disbelief across his and collapsed backwards, a bloody gash open across his abdomen.

It took me a split second to react; I dropped the sword onto the marble floor but never heard the crash. I slid across the floor to d'Artagnan.

His eyes found mine, and he whispered, "Jacques… Jacqueline, I love you." His eyes closed and his body relaxed.

"Hey… hey… no! No," I called weakly, looking at the wound I had given him. "Oh dear Lord, forgive me… Nooo!"