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Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Fanfiction · #438671
A rollicking medieval tale using characters from the defunct WCW (now owned by the WWE).
CHAPTER THREE

The next morning Lord Nash stood in the doorway of his tent watching the cold rain falling from the somber gray sky. He wondered why he hadn't killed Bischoff in the courtyard when he had the chance but the answer came without much reflection. If he did take his revenge upon the man now then Lord Flair and Charlotte Castle was sure to fall to Hogan without the support of Bischoff and his men. It galled Nash that he must wait for his vengeance but Lord Hogan was a fearsome warmonger who was not content to merely conquer but decimated lands in his conquest. Nash had seen enough wanton carnage in his day and had no wish to be the indirect
cause of it.

Then there was the Lady Wilhelmina. The very thought of her brought a smile to his face and, God's teeth; it seemed the little minx had not strayed far from his thoughts since the moment he first laid eyes on her. He'd listened with much amusement last night as she abused Bischoff, the chit had a tongue to shame a fishwife and would doubtless give Bischoff merry hell did he manage to wed her. Still, the memory of her lithe, supple body held, however briefly, in his arms would not fade easily away. Indeed, if he'd decided to follow the course suggested by his
men and planted a bastard in her belly as a token for Bischoff, the begetting would leastwise have been fun. But she was as much an innocent as his dear sister had been and for all his faults, Lord Nash was a man of honor. He was also a man of patience who could bide his time, let Bischoff think he'd won everything he wanted. The higher he climbed the greater the agony in his fall.

Lord Nash was a man who believed in revenge, but he also believed it was a dish best served cold.

Wilhelmina lingered near the livery watching Bischoff as he directed the men's arms practice in the exercise yard. He strutted back and forth, shouting out commands in his imperious voice, waving a jewel-encrusted sword. Wilhelmina had to admit he cut an impressive figure in his tall boots, rich surcoat and flowing
black cloak. As always he was meticulously groomed, his black hair oiled and his beard in twin plaits down his chin. When he saw her he turned over the drills to his lieutenant.

"Milady," he said with a smile. He seemed to have forgotten all about last night's
unpleasantness, "How do you fare this day?"

"Considerably damp, Milord, "she said, pretending not to see his outstretched hand.

"There is a matter of much import I wish to discuss with you."

Bischoff raised his eyebrows, "Oh? Then it pleases me to discuss it with you. What is it, Milady?"

"I-. . " she faltered as he looked at her expectantly, then took a deep breath to steel her nerves. She was a Clanslord's daughter, what fear did she have for the likes of him? "I am much affronted by your behavior last night and needs must address it."

He frowned, "I. . . I am afraid I do not know what it is you refer to. "

The nerve of the man, to pretend it hadn't happened! "You handled me most inappropriately, my Lord and gave me such insult as I have never been subjected to in my life."

Bischoff's mouth dropped open. He looked genuinely surprised. "I swear to you, Lady. I do not remember it. I must have been in my cups. Please forgive me for a fool who does not hold his ale like other men."

She gave him an icy look. "It behooves me to be truthful, Lord Calumet. I am entered into this betrothal only at my father's behest. I do not wish to insult your honor but I feel very little affection for your person and will not tolerate to be handled like a kitchen wench. "

"Madam," Bischoff said in a placating tone. "I understand if you do not love me, ours was an overhasty courtship. I had hoped that in time I would prove to be a worthy husband to you and perchance even win your love. Please, forgive my indiscretions, it will never happen again."

She nodded, "I shall hold you to that, my Lord."

She dropped a quick curtsy and hurried away. As he watched her retreating form, the smile slowly faded from his face and his eyes became as cold and hard as black ice. In their depths something born of inner rage stirred, a dark and terrifying fury that, if Wilhelmina had seen it, would have sent her running for her life.

Lord Nash looked up as the tent flap parted and a tall, dark man entered, shaking the raindrops from his cloak.

"Ach, Kevin," he said, stomping mud off of his boots, "yer my friend and I love you like a brother but if ye ever drag me along on one of yer grand, addle-pated schemes again I I swear by the cross I'll geld you where ye stand!"

Kevin grinned broadly at his friend. "What is the matter, Scott? Are you turning soft in your old age? A little mud and rain souring your dainty humor?"

Scott grimaced as he sat by the fire and took a long swig from a flask of strong wine. "It's not the mud, ye great, daft bugger, it's all the damned slinking about, bowing and scraping to that strutting peacock, Bischoff. Did he see me now, my da' would kick me arse for me. Playing mercenary! Fah! Why can you not declare war on him like any decent man and have done with it?"

"Patience, my friend, " Kevin said. "I'll wager our little charade won't last much longer. This blasted stalemate cannot hold forever. "

No sooner had the words left his mouth than they heard shouts and the pounding of horse's hooves. They bolted to their feet and rushed outside. A rider was racing across the field, flogging his horse mercilessly. As they charged nearer, Kevin and Scott could see the rider's exhaustion, his mount's foam-flecked hide and rolling
eyes. They galloped by in a churning splatter of mud and sped on to the castle.
The two men glanced at each other. Kevin said a single word.

"Hogan. "

They spun around and plunged back into the tent, scrambling for their battle gear.

Lord Flair walked the highest parapet of his castle, looking down upon his subjects like a god upon a mountaintop. A light breeze stirred his hair, once as bright as sunlit gold, now gone dull and white. It was hard for him to reconcile the face he saw in the mirror as his own, that tired, lined, old face. Age had crept up on him like a silent specter and sometimes he wondered where his life had gone between the endless clan feuds, battles and wars. He saw his daughter speaking to Bischoff in the courtyard and a fresh stab of pain went through his heart. He loved his only child dearly, in her he saw the image of his long-dead wife whom he'd loved so deeply, when she died he'd nearly gone mad with grief. The guilt of forcing
Wilhelmina to marry Bischoff was nearly overwhelming. In fact, the first night when she'd come to him with tears in her eyes, begging him to break the engagement, he'd nearly done it. It galled him to the soul that he was forced to give her to the likes of Eric Bischoff, a lowborn churl who could not even claim to be some nobleman's bastard son.

This war had dragged on far too long. His coffers were depleted, his lands all but ruined, his clanspeople scattered. His once great house was on the brink of ruin. Without Bischoff's support his house was doomed to fall and then what would be Wilhelmina's fate? Movement from the corner of his eye made him turn to see a horseman riding at breakneck speed toward the castle. The hairs stood up on the back of his neck as instinct told him this was the sign he'd been waiting for. He hurried to the gate to meet the rider and hear his message.

Wilhelmina was in the courtyard when the horn sounded and all hell broke loose. Soldiers flooded the courtyard, scrambling for weapons as officers shouted orders. She hastened to a side corridor to avoid being trampled and watched with bewildered eyes.

A footsoldier hurried past her and she caught his attention. "What's happening?" she demanded.

"Sorry, Lady!" he said. "I can't talk!" He hurried away.

She looked around desperately for someone who would speak to her. She caught sight of a tall, golden-haired man, Lord Nash! She struggled through the crowd and managed to snag the hem of his cloak. He looked down, annoyed, but his scowl turned into a grin when he saw her.

"Fie, Lady!" he shouted above the din. "For shame, hanging on a man's cloak like a common strumpet! Or perchance you've come to kiss me goodbye?"

"You overgrown bullock!" she retorted. "Tell me what is happening! Are we besieged?"

"Besieged?" he threw back his head and laughed. "Nay, Lady! The stalemate has broke. We ride to battle!" Wilhelmina nearly sagged with relief to know her home was still safe. But she immediately felt a new fear, this time for her father. Nash saw the look on her face and his expression softened. "Don't worry, your father is a seasoned warrior. He will return from this battle as he always has. "he chucked her under the chin. "Cheer up. You may get your fondest wish today and see me run through. You wouldn't care to give a lonely soldier one last, quick tumble before he rides off to battle would ye?"

She raised startled eyes to his face and found him grinning at her roguishly, "It would leave me with a beautiful memory to carry to my death," he said.

The insolence of the man!

She glared at him and said "Pretty words will not sway me, Lord Nash. If you would recall, I am betrothed to another. Like as not even your death would not free me from your bothersome self. I daresay your specter would haunt my dreams should you fall to a paltry sword. Take yourself off, and go pound someone into the dirt." Wilhelmina attempted a dignified exit with her chin raised, but Lord Nash seized her arm and stopped her escape.

He pulled her up against his chest but did not turn her to face him. He bent his head to her ear and she shivered a bit as his warm breath tickled her neck.

"If I haunt your dreams, beautiful lady, then we would be no more than even. Mayhap when I return we can see how well reality compares." Her whole body flooded with warmth at his softly spoken words. She inhaled sharply at the feel of his parted lips pressed against the skin of her neck. The tip of his tongue drew a small circle on her nape. Her legs felt numb from the sensations skittering up and down her spine. The smell of him filled her nostrils and she felt her nipples contract and harden almost unbearably beneath her gown.

"I- " Wilhelmina tried to find the words to give him the blazing setdown she had planned just a moment ago but her tongue failed her. She could focus only on the feel of his hands around her arms and his mouth upon her neck. When he suddenly released her, she nearly stumbled onto the cobblestones that lined the corridors. Reality came rushing back at her, and she was incensed at his attempt to seduce her in full view of the household. Angry with herself at allowing him to touch her, she stormed off to her chambers. She chanced one look back towards him once she reached the bottom stair, only to find he had strode off to join the men and was nearly gone from her sight.

She threw open the doors to her chambers and flopped onto the chair placed next to her small window. Her fingers tapped the windowsill and her toes drummed an impatient pattern on the stone floor. The nerve of the man! She could not understand why his very presence seemed to agitate her. Normally she was quite calm, having learnt patience and maturity. The mere sight of Lord Nash seemed to set her blood near to boiling and she had to confess, she looked forward to their encounters. As her father's hostess, she had much experience in dealing with
men of all types of manner, but none set her off so thoroughly as the mercenary warrior.

Wilhelmina sank more comfortably into her chair and allowed her gaze to unfocused as she allowed her mind's eye to wander over the finely fashioned form of Lord Nash. -The Heavenly Father had certainly had more than a passing good day when He'd created that particular image of himself- she thought. Although many of the ladies of her acquaintance would prefer the refined Lord Calumet, with his perfect grooming, rich clothes, and courtly manners (most of the time, she thought sourly), Wilhelmina could not help but to admit that the barbarian lord had a
certain charm of his own. Her mind's eye traveled over his firmly muscled chest and arms, and by the fit of his skin-tight leather breeches he had absolutely no need of a tailor's skills to present his best aspects. His skin was soft and warm to the touch, and she knew well how his body felt pressed against her own. His hair was worn much longer than was the current fashion - although she supposed that could be excused by his extensive travel. He did keep his beard from becoming ragged, and she owned that she liked much the feel of his mouth against hers.

Wilhelmina had been kissed by several men, usually at a feast given by her father or on a visit to one of his allies, and was usually left unmoved. Bischoff's kiss had been particularly repulsive, both wet and intrusive with a total lack of regard for her willingness to cooperate. She had a nasty feeling that he would be no better in the marriage bed. Lord Nash's kiss had been a much more pleasant experience. A smile stretched her mouth and without realizing she did it, her finger crept up to lightly trace the curve of her lower lip as she relived the kiss they had shared in the forest. His kiss was dry and smooth, without any hint of coercion or force. He
had shaped his mouth to her own with a skill that she had no doubt had left many broken hearts in its path.

Her thoughts turned to their encounter earlier in the corridor. At the memory of his lips against the sensitive skin of her nape she shivered involuntarily. Had they been in a more private place she wondered if she would have been able to resist any further advances. Wilhelmina snorted at that notion. If she were totally honest with herself, had they been in a more private place she may well have made a few advances of her own!

Wilhelmina was startled out of her reverie by Mildred bustling in to collect her dirty garments for the laundry.

"What is this? My lady has become a lazy slug-a-bed? For shame milady, for shame!" Mildred laughingly waved her finger in the air at the sight of Wilhelmina taking an unaccustomed bit of rest for herself.

"What am I to do Mildred? The hall is clean, the men have gone off to battle, and the preparations for the evening meal are well under way. I have naught to do but sit and worry over my father. He is no longer young, and I know not if he will return." Wilhelmina knit her eyebrows together in an expression of worry.

Mildred set down her washing and came to kneel in front of her lady's chair and take her hands into her own. "Wilhelmina, I have watched over you and cared for you since you were a babe. I love you like you were my own child. You know well your father's skill in battle and his men will keep him from harm. I know that is not all that troubles you. I would help lift some of that burden from your shoulders if you will let me."

Wilhelmina bit her lip as she pondered what to tell her maid. Mildred had been mother and nurse to her as well as her capable lady's maid. She had kissed Wilhelmina's scraped knees and small hurts and made the monsters disappear that terrorized her in the night. Perhaps she could help solve her current dilemmas.

"Mildred, I'm sure you know that my father has betrothed me to Lord Calumet. I begged him to rethink his decision, but he refused. I know that marriages are not made for love, but I cannot help but think a shared respect should exist. My father loved my mother greatly. The way he speaks of her even now, the light in his eyes as he tells stories of her - I cannot believe he would force me into such a union, having known a true love himself! Lord Calumet toadies to him constantly - he is a slimy worm whose very presence makes me want to retch. And I know
he will mistreat me once I am vowed to him! Just two days past he practically dragged me from the hall and as soon as we were out of my father's sight he forced himself on me. Lord Nash happened along a few moments later on his way to the privy, so Calumet was forced to let me go. He accused me of terrible things Mildred! Of being impure, of the damage to his own reputation if gossip were spread of how Lord Nash rescued me from the boar during the hunt. He has no care for me, only for his own advancement."

Mildred took all this in, including her mistress's flush when she mentioned Lord Nash. "I am truly sorry for your anguish milady. If I could do aught to chase it away I would." Mildred broke into a wide grin suddenly. "So, the mercenary captain pleases you, does he? He is a fine specimen to be sure. I daresay sharing a bed with that one would be an exercise in not falling off the edge!" Mildred chuckled at her own joke.

Wilhelmina's eyes grew round with shock. "Mildred!" she exclaimed. "I said nothing about being pleased by him! I have never heard you speak in this way!"

Mildred shrugged. "I may be getting on in years, but my eyes are not too poor to appreciate a handsome man milady. I was married when I came to be with the family here, but my husband died in a clan war some years before you were born. I am well acquainted with the pleasures and trials men give us." Her eyes twinkled merrily at her mistress's horrified expression. "I do believe your Lord Nash would be quite skilled in giving pleasure, and generous with it as well. If I were a score younger..." Mildred's voice trailed off with a sigh. Wilhelmina giggled at the sight of her maid's faraway expression.

"How do you know such a thing?" she demanded. "Besides, he is not my Lord Nash. Whatever gave you such an idea? He is here to assist my father and Lord Calumet in breaking the stalemate with Hogan."

"Milady, your eyes speak to me much as your words do. I know you better than anyone else in this world, because I raised you. Even if you are not ready to admit it to yourself, I know that your thoughts have wandered a similar path as my own a moment ago. While the men are gone these next few days, contemplate your situation and see how you may better it. You are intelligent lady, and have more wits than most of your station. Use them to get what you want." Mildred patted her mistress's hand and swept out with the laundry. Before pulling the door shut, she looked back into the room and winked broadly at Wilhelmina, a wide smile curving
her lips.
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