The annoyance growing in Veronica made itself heard in her tone, “Well, what now? What should we do about it? Ten lashings?”

There had been so many firsts for Sebastian in such a short period, including the handling of reparations, “Lashings are the norm, I suppose. The punishment surely must be appropriate yes, this matter-”

“So twenty lashings? Is twenty lashing suitable?”

“Twenty lashings is-”

“Thirty fucking lashings? Do you want to exhaust two members of the troop at once? We could take a finger-”

“Well I actually thought the ten-”

“All ten of his fingers? How will he be of any use then? And if I cut his ten fingers off-”

“Not all ten no that is not-”

“God, to think my greatest foes would be pigeons and horses! Well, a horse anyway.”

“Horse? What horse—Pidgey your hands are fucking grotesque.” Sebastian and Veronica both pulled their hands apart in visible disgust, wiping the backs of their hands on their trousers. Pidgey stood there, his whole body shaking madly and sweat glistening on his brow, afraid to even breathe.

The night air blew cooly into the barren room, the noise of nature left to play a solo act as the stirring of soldiers below ceased since the troops that had been present found their quarters in the courtyard that Sebastian had come from. In this sector of the abandonment they called camp, Sebastian found himself alone with the captain—sans Pidgey of course. He found himself doing it naturally too now, thinking of Veronica as the captain as opposed to a captain. Her expertise in commanding the troops during their voyage by ship had earned her that title, something Sebastian hadn’t had a clue in doing. For now, Sebastian was content with where he stood. There was much to learn, and he did believe she could teach him.

“How much trouble could a horse be giving you? Does this horse fly? Was it trained by an idiot?” Sebastian side-eyed Pidgey, who flinched.

“Ha! This horse might as well fly, and I doubt any trainer besides myself could coax the beast. Wild horses can be a dangerous thing, I suppose.”

“A wild horse? The steeds in High Hillford are aplenty, why choose a wild one?”

“What if I said this horse chose me? It sounds queer, I know. No more than two months ago, this black beauty of a horse wandered onto my land before morning and ate every last bit of hay and seed I foolishly did not close properly. Had half a mind to cut the beast down, until I got a good look at the boy up close. Yes, the horses your mother and others raise may have been acceptable, but my horse can kill a man...well maybe it is a bit soon to be gloating about that.” Veronica snickered to herself.

Sebastian set his elbow back on the table, his hand open, “Too soon? Did the beast get to someone?”

“Alas yes,” Veronica made an exaggerated pouty face, “Maybe a bit over an hour ago now? The poor boy bent over for his bucket on the ass-end of the horse, and a hoof landed cleanly to his neck. Hell of a way to die, I suppose. Instant death. Not sure who's worse off, him or his fellow hand. That one looked like he saw—well he was very close to the scene. A pity to be sure.”

Sebastian’s face was stricken in shock, “Well, yeah that is a tragedy. Why did I not know of this right away?”

“Did I not? Huh, pretty sure the boys were getting excited for another chance at me while it happened. My mistake, but surely no harm no foul.” Veronica put her elbow back on the table. She adjusted it, left then right, before looking a bit annoyed, “Too much slippage with this thing on.”

Sebastian’s eyes widened as Veronica began unbuckling the clips of her jacket. As the third one unclipped and began to reveal the loose, v-neck tunic that accentuated both her cleavage and the curves of her breast, Sebastian looked away, finding a sparingly brief moment of calm in the still trembling face of Pidgey, before growing annoyed at the failure again.

Veronica finished taking off the jacket, showcasing her broad, shaped shoulders and the fitness of her olive-colored arms. Sebastian had to note that down the length of the back of her left arm, aged marks, and scars stretched equidistantly down from her shoulder to wrist. She fixed her hair then, hiding her shoulders and markings in the long tangles of the blackness that fell to each side of her breasts. Sebastian couldn’t escape the thought so prevalent in his head: Veronica Visconti was the finest woman he had seen.

Veronica put her elbow back on the table, seemingly satisfied with the increased friction, “Hey Pidgey, eyes up here boy. Let’s begin, shall we?”

“You’re on, Visconti.”

Sebastian began going through the same motions he had with Reginald; locking hands, Sebastian could only muse about the outrageous advantage he had, as while Veronica’s hands felt strong, they were so much smaller than his. No flinch or nuance gave away anything to begin with, and this troubled him. While Reginald may have been her fiercest competitor to date, the Captain had not lost to any man she faced yet, or so they had said. Her confidence, as always it seemed, brimmed.

“You never asked the horse's name Willcotts. Give it a guess, go on it's a good one.” Veronica said.

“Something as simple as Hell Bringer would seem to fit well. Or how about Crazy? With a nickname of Veronica Jr.”

Veronica laughed genuinely, “You’re not so bad you know. Well maybe at guessing. The horse's name, get this, I call her Peace.”

Sebastian and Veronica shared a real chuckle at that, and in the background, Pidgey shifted his head between his two leaders with an incredulous look on his face.

“And I thought I had all the jokes. Why would you name her something so, unfitting?”

“Unfitting? Oh, Sebastian, my steed is peace! Wherever it is that you and I take our horses in this country, we will be bringing Peace, both figuratively and literally. I am cautious to overwhelm you, but there are so many things about this world that don’t exist in High Hillford. All of the wonderful things about your country are here; the people sing, they dance, they live for their neighbor, and are strong enough to take on challenges without aid. But the cruelties, the division, the inequality, and the lack of God. These realities hidden from you, young Sebastian, are why we have come to cleanse this land.

“You see the decay and shambles that seem endless in this country, depressing and unmanaged. A year under High Hillford’s rule, and disheveled monuments such as this may once again be throbbing with life and love. I truly believe that it has only been a matter of time before the peace that these nations, Runswick especially, hold so dear comes crashing down. Whether that be the forces building in Silver Acre, the vicious tenacity of the XXX, or the dangerous inventions of YYY, I can not say. But I do know this, and I know it well: the inclusive nature of the church offers a home for all, and if we offer it early, maybe this will be the last talk of war and fighting we ever have.”

Sebastian’s jaw was loose, though he was careful to not have it agape as it wanted to be. While doubts may have been the wrong word, Sebastian had been told by his mother and the Bishop to watch Visconti closely and see how she may prove herself as a true and loyal asset to High Hillford. While her ways were, different, Sebastian felt a new confidence in Veronica.

“You are either quite passionate or well-read. That speech may as well have been from the diary of the Bishop or my mother for that matter. So what I’ve learned of Runswick is true then? The books make this country seem like a luxury in leisure.”

“Ah yes, admittedly Runswick is a soft spot in the world. Fair though, both in its people and in its freedoms. I can respect that, though the disrespect they have for their soldiers is a bit off from my liking. Is something wrong with this one?” Veronica looked at Pidgey, whose soul may have left his body at this point.

Sebastian slammed his open palm on the table, sending Pidgey into another bout of cowardice. “C’mon Pidgey, at least be a good judge if you’re going to be a shit pigeoneer. Oh, I’ve got it!”

“Got what?” Veronica asked.

“Pidgey’s punishment! You’ll like this one Pidgey—if more than half your birds can’t operate, then more than half your work is null! Wouldn’t want to keep those hands idle however, I hear there's a roaring need for another hand in the Captain’s stable.” Sebastian slapped the back of Pidgey, the color of the man’s narrow cheeks completely drained from his face.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Decisive action my fellow Captain!” Veronica said, “Now Pidgey, if you don’t start this bout at once, I will nail the wash bucket so that it forever stays behind my lovely Peace. Understood?”

Pidgey wiped his hands fervently on his trousers, his two captains unnoticing the silent prayers he mouthed to himself.

The two were truly feeling and analyzing each other now, the time for words has passed. Locked tightly together, Sebastian still could not get a sense of Veronica’s initial strategy. Her hand nearly disappeared in his grasp, her fingers wrapping and settling on nearly the inside of his thumb. It felt so unusual to him, facing a woman for the first time in an arm wrestling match, but he had decided already that he was not going to take it easy.

Pidgey wrapped his hands around theirs, temporarily dry this time. Unwilling to make eye contact with the captains, Pidgey began a countdown from three. As Sebastian focused his senses, Veronica swung a foot underneath the table, landing it on Sebastian’s seat, his crotch no more than a couple inches away.

Veronica smirked wildly, and in unison with Pidgey, mouthed, “One.”

Sebastian Willcotts was put solely on defense for the first time in his adult life. It was no wonder why Veronica had come away from these nights as the champion, for she was willing to do anything to win. The distance between her foot and his manhood had been erased in a moment, and now the woman was caressing his limb in a way Ambrose would never have imagined. The shock below coexisted with a shock in his hand; using her fingernails, Veronica dug her four fingers into the side of Ambrose’s thumb, where blood trickled down the side of his hand and forearm. The pain was manageable but he soon found that the more effort he gave to pinning her hand down, the deeper her fingers dug into his flesh.

She’s fucking mad! Sebastian thought, his hand losing to hers in a struggle to remain at the starting point. He felt himself throbbing below now, his mind not enjoying what his cock so obviously did. Her toes made plausible fingers as they flexed delicately down the length of him and back up, quickening now as he urged more out of his arm, able to drive her back up and take advantage.

Veronica’s face glistened with sweat, her eyes and wild smile a telling sign of the jubilation she was feeling. This was her favorite element, matching up against a true challenge. It was in her blood to admire strength, and Sebastian Willcotts had as much vigor and ability as she had seen in any man. Regardless of the outcome, she had every intention of taking him to bed tonight.

She faced an uphill climb now; her hand less than a few inches from the table, Veronica flexed her pointer and middle fingers in one direction and the other two in the opposite direction, opening and tearing at the incisions her fingers created. Quickening her strokes under the table, she sensed the knight was nearly at full mast, and knew how unpracticed he was.

Sebastian responded with grinding teeth, his grip slightly loosening and losing some of his ground but not all. He felt a maddening of emotions that he wanted to be done with, mostly brought on by what seemed to be a wet spot forming in his briefs. His mother would be ashamed of him, falling for such a damned trick and temptation this act was becoming. She had been so adamant about resisting temptation, especially now in the heat of battle, but his brain seemed to be relocated to his testicles.

They both matched the effort in each other's faces; as more blood spilled off the fingers of Veronica and Sebastian readied to use all of his strength in one last attempt to pin her hand, Pidgey excitedly found not just a distraction from this odd nightmare he found himself in, but a lifeline. Both of the captains began cursing the pigeoneer as he moved from his spot aside the table, uncaring of the sexually charged match that transpired. Pidgey was heading to the window, both hands cupped together and facing the sky. It was then that Sebastian began to hear the flapping from outside.

Sebastian thought how he could have bested her right then, and she thought the same of him as they exchanged puzzled expressions to each other, and then to the back of Pidgey. The bout was over then, a draw due to a miracle. They both watched as the oncoming pigeon landed softly into the hands of the pigeoneer, his eyes swelling with tears of joy.

“God is good! God is good!” The pigeoneer said, holding the pigeon and the message it held tight to his chest.

<><><><><>

“As expected, the message comes from the church, not your mother.” Filling a second cup with wine, Veronica walked back towards her bed, where Sebastian stood at the base, pondering with the letter between his fingers. The room they found themself in was a floor above the room they had left Pidgey, and was notably smaller and just as bare. An identical arch window existed in the confines, which would have given a better overview of the camp, but only a few fires remained on the ground in what was otherwise a pitch-black darkness. Soot was apparent and trapped in the corners and crevices of the room.

Veronica studied Sebastian as his back was turned; she hadn’t seen him before without armor and his greatsword, standing with the white of his tucked-in, tight shirt, his folded arms accentuating the sharp outlines of the bulging muscles in the rear of each shoulder and his neck. His large back seemed to be endless, a mountain of strength that was proportional to his large thighs that were hugged by his black pants.

This Sebastian is a true marvel of a man, thought Veronica as she teased ideas in her head.

Sebastian turned to face Veronica, and gave her a quizzical look as she went to hand him his cup, saying: “Sorry to disappoint, but the Willcott family does not take part in drinking.”

Veronica pouted at him, “Are you sure that rule extends outside of High Hillford? You do know that mother of yours isn’t around.”

“Perhaps if we were on vacation instead of strategizing for war, Visconti. I have no stomach for anything that could cloud my mind.”

Veronica sighed, “And here I thought I could bring you a night of firsts.” She winked at him.

Sebastian’s face flushed, unseen by Veronica as she made her way to the window, placing his glass on the sill. Veronica wore a loose, nearly translucent dress that he assumed would freeze her, but she seemed more relaxed than ever as she took in the night breeze. Hunching over the sill and taking a deep sip from her glass, Sebastian nearly had to slap himself into reality as he found himself staring at her hips and bottom, the temptation within himself growing like wildfire.

Veronica knew he was looking without having to look for herself, as she sipped her wine and eyed the reflection of the set glass amusingly.

“So, your brother will be ready then?” Sebastian said, adjusting himself in the reflection.

“Oh, my baby brother, no need to worry on that front. We are incredibly different people, but all Visconti’s are to be depended upon, at least in fulfilling their sworn duty.”

“How can we be so sure? Wasn’t it nine months ago the two of you had any contact?”

“Ah yes. When he told me to leave him be for now, as he was busy with a second job. Such an odd fellow, I’d have been drinking wine, getting fat, and getting fucked if I had much time on my hands,” She swirled her wine in her glass, chugged the rest, and placed it on the sill. “Well I supposed I do have wine, and he does too, as a barkeep and all.”

Sebastian stiffened, trying to continue the seriousness of the discussion amid the ambush of vulgarity, “In three days, he will either give us the signal that the wall has been taken, or he won’t. This matter is not one I take lightly, Veronica. I will not accept failure.”

Veronica had the other glass in hand now, sipping slower than she intended as the tone in Sebastian’s voice carried weight. She whirled on him then, taking a step forward and into the personal space of Sebastian, looking up at the giant of a man.

“I will not be insulted by you, Willcott. You speak of failures and Visconti’s in the same breath, a historical lie. If I say my brother will be ready, he will be ready.” Cold eyes beamed into Sebastian’s.

The knight matched the expression, a sense of curiosity growing in him.

Does she believe she can take me on? He mused, before dropping his expression.

Satisfied, Veronica swept by him and onto the bed, where she fell dramatically without spilling a drop of wine.

“I shall not hide the fact that I am tense, Veronica. I plan on remaining tense until we have completed our goal, for that I will not apologize.”

“Your apology is unnecessary, boy. But your trust is—if you want the goals of High Hillford to come to fruition. And that is something that I want too, you know.” Veronica turned her head to look at him then.

Sebastian had never seen the woman so defenseless, and so soft in her gaze. He moved to the side of the bed, sitting himself on the footing.

“You are completely correct in that. I have trusted you and will continue to do so, I just am a bit more regimented-”

“Oh the Bishop is regimented, you’re just a hard ass like your mother,” Veronica sat up and slapped him on the back, where her hand remained and rubbed. “If you do trust me, then maybe you’ll have no issue answering this one question I’ve had for you.”

Sebastian was enjoying the affectionate touch, “And that would be?”

“Your greatsword. It is the original iron, isn’t it?” She said, both hands now massaging the man's back.

Sebastian’s alarm was not seen as he faced away from her, and he did his best to conceal it in his tone, “Veronica, I am not sure where you-”

Veronica threw her hands up, “And so Sebastian Willcott is a liar. I thought you trusted me.”

“This is a closely guarded-”

“Yes, obviously it is. But I have been far and wide, as you know, and I have never seen a sword such as yours. You wear it with such ease.” She returned to his back now, starting at the small of it.

Sebastian sighed, “I suppose there is no use in dodging you, Visconti. Yes, the great sword I carry is the original iron. For generations, my family has held this sword, yet I am the first to wield it. For generations, dating too far for even my mother to remember, the sword was sealed away. With the blessing of the church, the iron saw the sun again, and I am its owner.”

A wide smile painted Veronica’s face, “I knew it when I first saw it. That was not my actual question however, really I’d love to know its ability.”

Sebastian turned his neck to look at her then, quickly studying the lines of her jaw, the gaze that did not skew from his, and the demeanor of her shoulders. He had told her he trusted her, but this topic was one that even the trusted were permitted from.

“I suppose you’ll tell me about your whip then. The twine, is it not?”

I have overstepped, Veronica thought and decided to be done with the topic.

“You might not know this, but a lady never tells. But I understand, and apologize for my curiosity.”

Sebastian smiled, “Should luck not be on our side, I am sure we will see plenty of ability from one another.”

“I am dying to see your ability,” Veronica said.

Sebastian knew he had a small victory in their war of besting one another. He was pleased by this before being surprised and pleased by a kiss on his neck. Veronica’s arms were moving from his back to around his waist, kissing the length of his neck and going up to his ear.

“Understand, I am a Visconti,” She whispered as she nibbled on the lobe of his ear, “I get rather turned on by the strength in others. And you are so strong, Sebastian. I get excited about what our future could look like.” Her hands made their way to the inner parts of each thigh.

“Veronica...you know I-I haven’t-”

“You haven't been made a man yet. I know, and I would like to make a man of you.”

And so Veronica and Sebastian prepared for an intimate battle.