Blood in the snow at the crack of dawn [4th of Jan morn]

[Fluff]

Built by William the Conqueror as one of his earliest castles to defend his newly gained country Windsor Castle had been rebuilt and expanded time and time again since the middle ages. It rose high from the Thames, its white cliffs providing a good defensible position. In truth Windsor Castle even in these times was one of the royal residences that could house a complete garrison. It was not just a home but one of the safest places in the kingdom for the royal family to be.

Dominating the view was the motte and the keep, also known as the round tower, atop a manmade hill that was now mostly used as a delicate garden full of little fountains, waterfalls, grotto's and other areas of pleasure. The keep rose as the highest point of the castle. Strong walls with turrents sectioned off more than one courtyard. Various gates allowed access to the Upper Ward to the east which were the main locations where the Royals could be found, the King and Queen each with their own set of appartments in additions to the myriad of housing for the guests. To the west the Lower Ward, as well as St.George's chapel, the priestly college that formed a miniature cathedral, and the guards and servant quarters which opened up through the Castle Gate to the Town of Windsor which was plastered against the moat of the castle.

In the middle of winter the yellow stone of Windsor was set off by the white snow that covered its grounds, except where busy servants had cleaned a path, every morning again. Not even the Thames disturbed this picture, in winter often the scene of an eerie mist drifting from its waters. Due to the sever cold however, the Thames in all of SouthEast England had frozen over solid, stopping all traffic through its murky waters.

The Northern Terrace was located between the Thames and the white cliffs, providing ample room for courtiers to stroll under its strategically placed elms, but also provided space for parades and military exercises should they be needed. In recent days strategically placed cannons on platforms added to the defence of the castle. A set of large stairs connected the Terrace to the inner courtyards of the palace.

It was very, very early, though already the King was on his daily walk, in the opposite direction of where a group of gentlemen were waiting for this mornings entertainment. Shrewdly Wycherly had chosen this location to make sure there would be no unnecessary and embarrassing interruptions.

Wycherly was wearing a costume that was more fitted to the stage than of any practical concern. His breeches were spectacularly fashionable but a trifle wide, under which he wore black leather boots with high heels and of course the red heeled soles. His shirt was wide, white and adorned with lace. He wore a royal blue cloak offset with white furr which he considered rather majestetical. His hat had a white plumb feather to impress even the Life Guards, who, it must be said were conspicuously absent this morning.

Wycherly had brought his second of course and a few more of his cronies who stood to the side, drinking mulled wine and making lewd jokes to the challenger. They looked even more dandy than the playwright and were not carrying weapons. Was the man second guessing the wisdom of his challenge? Well, he had ordered that it was to be to first blood and he still hoped that Blackheath would send his apology for the injury, thus cancelling the duel.

Blackheath's second, Lord Alyth, would bring the weapons. The waiting had begun.

[Nigel Harrington]

Nigel chould not have presented a diametrically opposed entrance if he had tried to plan it out. Arriving on horseback with his two men and Lord Alyth, Nigel was plainly dressed in light black wools, well broken in riding boots, his cravat bore no lace and he had no frock coat on. He just wore a weather scarred sealskin greatcloak, that he shrugged off and handed to Carruthers after dismounting.

Nigel stood there with a calm, almost bored expression as he looked to Adam to start the show.

[Adam James MacGregor]

There was truly little difference between Nigel and the man that was to serve as his second. Rising early that morning Adam was dressed for comfort and warmth rather than for show and style. With his black stallion nervously pulling the reins, the Scotsman had to keep the spirited war-horse under control as he was not out to take a pleasurable ride through the countryside. Later, when this is done with. Wrapped in soft leather he carried a pair of fine rapiers, one that he himself had bought with Cat at his side and the other she bought for him as a gift. Those fine weapons were accompanied by a pair of less impressive parrying daggers, the shorter blades looking almost shoddy in comparison to rapiers. But, such would not be revealed until the weapons were freed of their wrapping.

As they arrived Adam dismounted and handed the wrapped weapons to one of Nigel’s men, before moving towards where the challenger stood, the tall Scotsman expecting Nigel to move closer so he could hear what his second was to say. “Good morning, my lords. I assume you are ready for the business we have before us?” He did not wait for them to reply, but launched into a short speech immediately. “Without going into details of what happened, since that may lead to another duel should one of the parties accuse me of lying, I shall simply say that certain actions by Lord Blackheath have been deemed as insulting by Master Wyncherley and lead to you sir, issuing a challenge to a duel. Since the challenge is still valid, it is my duty to ask Lord Blackheath if he wishes to apologize?” Here he turned to Nigel and waited, even though he suspected that the scarred Major had not changed his mind.

[Nigel Harrington]

From Adam's side all that was heard was "No."

[Adam James MacGregor]

Not needing much more to work with, the Scotsman turned to the challenger and ignored his second or any of the cronies Wyncherley brought to the duel. “As you have heard, Master Wyncherley, Lord Blackheath stands by his words and actions and thus we shall have a duel this morning. The challenged party chooses the weapons and Lord Blackheath chose rapiers and parrying daggers.” Adam motioned for Nigel’s ma to come closer and unwrapped the weapons from the soft leather, holding them before Wyncherley. “These are my personal weapons and as such you may pick first. I assure you they are all of equal quality.” He waited for the playwright to pick his weapons before handing the remaining rapier and dagger to Nigel.

“Again, without going into details, would the challenger please state how grievous the insult was, or in other words how far the duel is to go. First blood or to the death?” Even the final word changed nothing in Adam’s demeanor, the Scotsman confident in Nigel’s ability to maim or kill the foppish man before them.

[Fluff]

The croonies of Wycherley had been rowdy and perhaps still a little drunk from the day before, but not the challenger himself. He looked a trifle pale in the early morning light. If it were not for his "friends" he would not be here now, cancelling the whole thing. He knew how to fence of course. All gentlemen did and he considered himself quite the fashionable swashbuckler, especially with his short military career. Yet this dark and calm presence of Blackheath and his second unnerved him.

He casually inspected the weapons and selected the weapon that Adam had bought for Cat.

"First Blood," Wycherly called, managing to keep his voice from wavering and even sound brave, as he imagined his heroes on the stage would do.He drew himself up trying to look tall faced with such giants of men. His croonies booed, they had hoped for a spectacular duel to the death but he silenced them with a look.

[Nigel Harrington]

First blood, what a farce.

Nigel nodded to Adam and took his weapons from Carruthers. Nigel took his position, holding his weapons in a relaxed and ready pose. Nigel looked to Adam for his instructions before turning back to Wycherley and saying "A lot can happen in the single pass of a blade."

[Adam James MacGregor]

With all the rules laid plain before the two man about to face each other, Adam turned and went to Nigel’s side, leaning close to whisper into the scarred soldier’s ear. “Make the scar visible or painful. He deserves it.” With that he nodded and moved to stand at the side, for the first time addressing Wincherley’s friends just as he drew two pistols from his coat. “I would like to point out that I will shoot any man who tries to interfere. I am not such a good shot, so I may not kill on my first try, but I do have two pistols.” He looked them men over and then emphasized the point by cocking both pistols, even though his arms were left at his sides. “When you are ready, gentlemen.”

[Fluff]

The croonies backed up at Adam's threat, some with their hands in the air. "Hey, we are just here to watch," one complained with a little slur "Good old Wycherly can win from this man hands down."

"Good old Wycherly" was not so sure himself, yet he pulled himself together and with his innate sense of drama he removed his cloak and his hat with a practised swirl, handing it to one of his friends.

The snow softly crunched under the feet of his high heeled soles as he took up position opposite Nigel, briefly circling him before finding something that in his mind would work. Working two weapons was not his strong point. Now he wondered how to get in a defence position, but he improvised something that he thought suitably dramatic. Every move. Every stance, it was all done for show. "Engarde, milord," he announced with a somewhat shrill voice.

[Nigel Harrington]

Nigel stood still but ready as Wycherley circled him as if wondering what to do with his sword and dagger. When Wycherley final stopped his pathetic meandering and gave his shrill cry, Nigel stood still as if waiting for something. In truth he was letting Wycherley's own nerves work against him. After that pregnant pause, Nigel exploded at Wycherley in a whirlwind of edged steel. Nigel knew he could end this in a moment but he had something else in mind for Wycherley.

Nigel rained a series of beats on Wycherley's rapier, while Nigel's parrying dagger was held close in, ready for any attack of Wycherley's that might make it through to Nigel. Nigel made a diagonal move into Wycherley's sword side as he pressed his attacks against Wycherley's sword. Nigel suddenly reversed his attack and brought his parrying dagger into play as well.

Nigel's sword and parrying dagger converged on Wycherley's parrying dagger in a quick scissoring maneuver. Nigel sought to trap Wycherley's dagger between his blades and to rip it out of his hand and send it spinning into Wycherley's cronies.

[Adam James MacGregor]

Some might find it odd, but Adam did not follow the duel that very closely, merely glancing at the pair as they traded blows, noticing that Wycherley was in for a world of pain, unless he was as good an actor as he was a playwright. The Scotsman’s eyes rested on the other group of observes, straying to the horizon every so often, Adam hoping that none would try to interfere, since he did not wish to shoot anyone, and yet he would if he wanted to keep his word. Despite his best efforts, he could still not remain utterly stoic, Highlander’s breath catching as few of the blows came close to landing, trying to glimpse what Nigel’s intention was from the way he moved and from where he aimed his blows.

[Fluff]

Whycherly had trouble keeping up with Nigel's speed, yet he did a valiant attempt, only taking one or two steps back, using his parrying dagger to some effect, though with an inexperienced hand. This was no battle hardened pirate captain, this was an artiste, who had seen most of his fighting on the stage.

The playwright found himself unable to counter or riposte, only parrying the moves that Nigel rained in on him. Slowly he was being manoeuvred into the corner where Blackheath wanted him. Sweat appeared on his brow as he tried to come up with a move that would give him a chance to move forward again.

Meanwhile the croonies kept a respectful distance, silent now, as they watched Whycherly step back, even staggering a little before correcting himself. In the distance Adam could see a red uniform. Just one, with a bright white plumb bobbing up and down with the decisive steps of the man. His built was broad but at this distance a face was difficult to make out. He was not running or drawing any weapon, or indeed yelling orders. He just walked forward, in clear intent, down all the hundred steps that seperated the main castle from the Northern Terrace.

[Adam James MacGregor]

Slowly, so as not to disturb the two combatants, Adam leaned closer to Carruthers and whispered to the old soldier, assuming Nigel would not mind if he gave the man this particular command. “Looks like the Life Guard is looking to interfere in the duel. Go and stop the man approaching there.” He motioned towards the approaching man in the uniform of the Life Guard. “Tell him that he can watch, but not interfere. If he insists, then simply let him come and wave for me to take over. No sense in getting you into trouble when I like being in it so much.” He grinned and then turned his gaze back to the duel and more importantly the crowd of Wycherley’s cronies, making sure they did not try to get between Nigel and his prey.

[Nigel Harrington]

There was no let up to Nigel's assault on Wycherley. No set of moves or showy pauses. Just an unending assault being made on Wycherley's weapons, that sought to draw him farther and farther out of balance and his centerline open for a finishing attack. Had Nigel's assault been on Wycherley himself instead of his blades...well that was a different tale to be told.

Nigel set the tempo of his attacks at a blinding rate that Wycherley seemed not to be able to counter. In the back of his mind he wish Owen and been there. It would have been a good demonstration of tempo for him.

Finally ready to put an end to this farce of a duel, Nigel turned up the heat for the finish. He opened Wycherley's centerline up with dual attacks againist both of his blades. Using the swepted up guard of his parrying dagger, Nigel sought to rake it down his wrist and disarm Wycherley of his parrying dagger. At the same time Nigel sought to force Wycherley's sword down and out to his side, till the tip was buried in the ground.

Following his attacks up, Nigel stepped inside Wycherley's guard. Face to face with Wycherley, Nigel brought his parrying dagger up fast between Wycherley's legs. Nigel's attack was with the parrying dagger's blade parallel to the ground and the flat of the blade turned up. Nigel sought to pull up on the dagger and lift Wycherley up onto the balls of his feet, in an unbalanced stance. Nigel's sword hand came up fast to grab Wycherley's cravat, while still holding his sword, and keep him from falling over, while Nigel's boot sought to stamp on Wycherley's blade at his side.

If all was succesful, Nigel rolled the dagger's blade over so it was edge up againist Wycherley's much abused manhood.

[Fluff]

Carruthers looked at the approaching Life Guard and gave Adam a silent nod. Walking casually, without apparent haste he met the soldier half way, just out of hearing reach of Adam and Nigel, where he exchanged a few brief words. Then, both men turned and came towards the scene.

Meanwhile the cronies were craning their necks to catch the latest. It was all going so fast. Concentrating on Wycherly Nigel could not even see the Life Guard approach, his back turned towards him with only Adam to guard it. Carruthers seemed relaxed.

Without fail Nigel's smooth moves towards unarming Wycherly and then threatening the part of him that he held most dear, worked. Blackheath found himself up close to the playwright with his dagger in his opponents crotch in a most insistent manner once again. Some of his croonies gasped in sympathetic horror, and two took a single step forward, forgetting Adam and his pistols in their indignation.

[Adam James MacGregor]

Adam liked the silent efficiency of Carruthers and turned his eyes back to the fight, following the approach of the red uniformed soldier, wondering if he was only going to watch or if he had some actual business there. He took a step towards the Life Guard aiming to find out why he had appeared and then Nigel made his finishing move and got Wycherley’s nuts in a pinch, making the Scotsman grin. The grin faded away as the pair of playwright’s cronies took a step back and with a calm steady hand Adam raised both pistols and pointed them at their chests. “That’s close enough. Remember my promise?” He stood ready to shoot them should they disobey and would shoot both even if only one moved. It would serve to vent a great deal of frustration that had accumulated over the past couple of days.

[Nigel Harrington]

"Blood, wasn't it?" Nigel said loud enough for all to hear. A man that had commanded men as long as Nigel had, knew how to play a crowd. "Your honor so offended, only blood could reslove this. Wasn't that your wish Wycherley?"

Nigel pulled up on the dagger between Wycherley's legs, to bring him up on his tippy toes, as his sword hand held tight onto Wycherleys cravat. "Never let it be said I am not without mercy. Choose Wycherley. Your honor or your blood. You can leave here with one Wycherley but not both. So choose which you hold more dear" Nigel said with his cold grey eyes looking into Wycherley's. Staring into those eyes so close as Wycherley's was, gave a person an education about Nigel that few wanted.

[Fluff]

Pickerton folded his arms as he watched the scene, hiding a smirk behind a cough as Nigel served his lesson. Carruthers took up post next to him, though he too kept an eye on Nigel's back in case Adam needed a back up.

"I yield," stammered a sweating tiptoeing Wycherly, suddenly very afraid to loose certain parts with pressing concern "For the love of god, I yield sir." Deep in his blue eyes Nigel would find the cowardice that he already knew off, the man shit scared. "With heartfelt apologies," the playwright added hoping it would be enough to call off this uncivilized wild beast. He was so concentrated on his opponent that he did not notice the red uniform that had come up.

The croonies meanwhile had forgotten all about Adam in their excitement and one of them did not stop, going forward another two paces while reaching for something under his jacket.

[Adam James MacGregor]

Despite the rather exciting duel that had ended rather unusually, Adam did not lose concentration for even a moment, the first step Wycherley’s crony took giving the Scotsman all the excuse he needed to carefully sight down the barrel of both his guns and then squeeze off both triggers in quick succession. Despite the urge to fire both pistols at the same time he knew the recoil would throw his aim off so he fired one and then the other. Both were aimed at chest level and each of the men who sought to interrupt the duel was shot at. In the brief time he was given to decide, Adam did not have a chance to discern if any of them stopped and he did say he would shoot anyone who interfered. As soon as both pistols were discharge, his arms moved towards the side in a smooth motion, as he let go of the pistols to have them drop into the snow. He was already drawing the sword, but did not step forward, merely standing there as a reminder of what would happen if anyone else sought to be stupid.

[Nigel Harrington]

Nigel look down on the man as he said "I guess you can't leave here with something you never had to begin with." Nigel was just about to shove Wycherley off his blade, when Adam's shots rang out. Nigel pulled his parrying dagger up at a hard diagonal and let Wycherley slid off his blade as Nigel lept back and pivoted in midair. He came down with his blades up, ready to face whatever threat Adam had fired on.

Oh, well I guess he lost his blood and his honor. Pity that, such acts will earn me a bad reputation.

[Fluff]

Wycherly fell back in the snow, beeding profusely from his crotch, as he screamed and screamed and never stopped screaming, whether from pain or fear of what he had just lost was completely unclear. However, Pickerton and Carruthers did not even pay attention to him as they both moved forward towards the shooting, both of them with drawn weapons.

As the smoke cleared it was clear that Adam had hit one of the two croonies in the chest. His weezing as he lay down in the snow otherwise silent indicated a lung having been pierced. Blood spread in the snow, a bright red. The other man had been barely hit, a torn jacket all of the result. Had he moved forward to the damage would have been more serious.

It now looked for a moment as if everybody would fall upon each other, but Pickerton seized the initiative announcing "That is quite enough gentlemen. First blood was drawn and nobody had any right interfering. What is done is done. Now, I suggest a strategic withdrawl." Wycherly was still screeching. Considering that it was now four against four, the other "friends" of the play wright made a backing up movement. "Let us care for him," one growled.

[Adam James MacGregor]

There would be trouble, Adam was certain of it, but in his heart he did not regret what he had done much, even though by shooting he may have saved the life of a man responsible for the death of his friend Abdul. Pausing until Nigel was safely at his side, he slowly withdrew, calling at the men gathered around the two wounded. “Take him to a doctor quickly or he’ll die for sure.” He left out that the man would most likely die even with doctor’s assistance, the wheezing sound a foreboding of a very painful death as his lungs filled with blood. He was amongst the last to mount, before turning to Pickerton. “If you need me over this you know where to find me. I’ll take full responsibility if the man dies, though he bloody well deserved it, trying to interfere in a duel of honor like that.” He glanced towards the scene and then added in an almost absent-minded manner. “And I would like the sword Wycherley used back as I supplied both men with weapons.” With the sword Cat gave him safe in Nigel’s hands, Adam could stand to lose the weapon he bought in London, but he saw no reason to let such a fine sword fall into such unworthy hands.

[Fluff]

The sword was readily supplied to Adam, Carruthers picking it up without much protest from Pickerton. "Thank you, milord," he told Adam seriously, trusting the man was as good as his word.

His last glance was for Nigel, ignoring the screeching Wycherly entirely "Get warm again, son, and take a bath." Left unsaid was that his wife need not know about all the violence her husband got up to before breakfast.


OOC: Are we ready to wrap this up?

[Adam James MacGregor]

With the swords safely in his hands, Adam reined Mac Imshee around and took his time leaving the scene. There would be consequences for his actions, but the Scotsman simply did not care, hoping this would give him a short respite from the constant attacks he had suffered lately. That perhaps people will stay away from him out of fear of bloody reprisal. If it would keep those seeking to harm him and those he loved, then he was willing to sacrifice his need for companionship, and live his life on his own, with only a fw true friends to keep him company. Maybe Alyth was not such a bad idea, remote as it was. At least I won’t be bothered when the bandits are gone.