For the Love of a Woman

Chapter 25

D'artagnan punched and kicked the body bag with speed and might. Lieutenant Carlson held it steady. The palace's training room was ten times better than the gym he owned in the old world. Sweat dripped from his forehead and glistened off his muscles. Just in case plan A didn't work out, he'd be ready to fight – to the death. He wasn't afraid of the redneck archer's survival capabilities. D'artagnan would break his neck in three minutes. But, his rising popularity concerned him.

According to D'artagnan's most loyal lieutenants, the people were discretely getting behind the archer. His courage and never say die attitude was winning the hearts of D'artagnan's subjects. Kings and queens had been overthrown in the past by the start of an idea, a symbol, or a person who displayed impeccable qualities. Daryl Dixon represented all three to the people of Hampton. D'artagnan would be damned if some country hick was going to take everything he built – everything he had.

He stopped working over the heavy bag. "Let's take a quick break and start training with weapons."

"Yes, your royal highness," Carlson said.

They walked over to the bench and sat. A footman rushed over with a silver tray with two glasses of water on it. Carlson and D'artagnan accepted and then D'artagnan waved the footman away.

"You're just as tough as ever," Carlson complimented. "I believe you are in the best shape of your life."

"Thank you, my old friend," D'artagnan said with a smile. Carlson had been with D'artagnan from the beginning, when they still scrounged New York State for food and supplies. D'artagnan had picked people up along the way. One of those people was Constance. Her eyes and gentle face drew him in. He was determined to have her and keep, by any means necessary.

Thanks to D'artagnan's keen eye, he noticed how his queen reacted to Daryl at the Tomb of Clavicles. At first, he had thought Daryl Dixon was just another admirer of Constance's, a fool who eyeballed a woman who was too good for him. But, D'artagnan had seen Constance's distress when Daryl got out of the tombs. D'artagnan had suspected there was another man in the mix and he was right. And he didn't buy the story that the archer was a loner who snuck into town. It was too much of a coincidence that a group from another community arrived looking for an alliance a day before Daryl Dixon made himself known. Yet, D'artagnan wasn't completely sure at the time. He didn't want to ruin a possibly good partnership if he was wrong – or worse trigger a war when he didn't have all the facts yet. For all he knew, Ezekiel and Negan could have an army just as big as his.

This Daryl Dixon was different than anyone who had activated the Trials of Glory decree. D'artagnan thought it was dumb luck that the archer defeated The Raven so quickly. The archer had thrown himself on the ground so sloppily that D'artagnan had thought he had tripped over his own feet. But, when Daryl escaped the tomb with only a cut on his arm and under the effects of Vivian's potion, he knew he had a real challenger on his hands. D'artagnan knew what was in the tomb for he worked with the architect who designed – and he had put himself through the tomb years ago, testing his abilities. He had barely escaped.

That night D'artagnan had gone to the high priestess for information from her cards. It was rare when she was inaccurate. That's when D'artagnan's suspicions were confirmed and then some. King Ezekiel and Lord Negan had been rulers of territories long lost, not in Pennsylvania, but in Virginia. That's where his men had finally found his queen. And Vivian had confirmed that they knew Constance before their arrival in Hampton, he knew they were from the community she was living in.

D'artagnan had scoffed at the news and their stupidity at first. His scouts had reported that the community was barely functioning. It had appeared that they had just gotten out of a war – which they had won. However, the casualties and destruction was devastating. They didn't have the resources to take him on, especially on his own turf.

When D'artagnan had expressed his thoughts out loud, the high priestess had pulled another card and told him that they supported the warrior, who wanted his queen, not his kingdom.

To D'artagnan, Constance was part of his kingdom – what belonged to him. And he be damned if he was going to lose her to some scruffy looking white boy. Once he killed Daryl Dixon and his cohorts, Constance will have no choice but to forget about Daryl forever, freeing her mind and heart for D'artagnan once again.

"I must ask, your royal highness," Carlson began. "If you are forming a plan to make it appear that the archer lost heart and fled to keep from fighting you, why are you putting yourself through these rigorous paces?"

D'artagnan had a regular workout routine to keep in shape, but if he believed he had to be in hand to hand combat, he trained more meticulously with sparing partners. "Because, my friend, you must always be prepared – and just in case plan A doesn't pan out."

Plan A was to kill the archer tonight and burn his body outside of the walls. The next day, when everyone shows up for the fight, Daryl would not be there – forfeiting. The people will view Daryl Dixon as a coward, forgetting about him in time, and pledging their entire allegiance to D'artagnan once again. Fighting Daryl toe to toe was the last resort. D'artagnan knew he would win and kill him, but he didn't want to make the archer a martyr – a memory of a brave soul who dared to challenge the king. Even though, he will fail, Daryl's actions could inspire others to either trigger the challenge or get a group together to lead a revolt. Granted, his army was over five thousand strong, but what if some charismatic man was able to turn one or even two of his legions? D'artagnan wanted to avoid the domino effect. Once the redneck was eliminated, D'artagnan would charge his friends with conspiracy and place them in the dungeon until spring. Then, he will march two legions and the prisoners back to where they came from and take over the territory, hanging the conspirators in public as an example to what happens to those who stabbed him in the back or lied to him. As he toyed with the idea, of taking Constance along to witness his power and to keep her in line another one of his lieutenants was announced by a footman.

"Let him enter," D'artagnan instructed.

Lieutenant Bridges, leader of legion three, marched in and halted in front of D'artagnan and saluted. Bridges blond hair appeared to need a trim, but other than that he was his ole professional self.

"At ease Bridges, what do you have me?"

Bridges relaxed his shoulders and stance. "The shopkeeper of the arts and crafts store has confirmed the archer's presence there." He pulled a sharpened piece of metal and half of a green feather out of his pocket. "The shopkeeper gave me these as proof of him being in her store."

D'artagnan snickered. "The shopkeeper? You mean your sister, right?"

Bridges cleared his throat. "Yes, your royal highness."

"Don't be ashamed or frighten to claim family, Bridges. Very few people have family they can depend on in this world," D'artagnan said.

"Yes, sir," Bridges said humbly.

"All right. I want you to take ten men from your legion to your sister's shop. Tonight at two hundred hours. No guns. Eliminate him with either knives or swords. I don't want the whole kingdom roused awake by the sounds of gunfire. Take his body outside the walls and burn him."

"Yes, sir," Bridges said.

"Oh, and cut a lock of his hair after you kill him and bring it along when you come to me with your morning report, which I want at nine hundred hours."

"Yes, sir," Bridges said again.