KingTony

The First War

Cast of Characters (coming soon)

The First War

Contents:

Helpful Links:

• Family Trees (Duchy of Westrock, County of Ryrstone)
• Characters:
  
  • Paul Cranston
    
    • Heir to the Duchy of Westrock.
    • Olivia's cousin.
  • Lars Barker
    
    • Count of Ryrstone.
    • Regent of Westrock.
    • Husband to Paul's sister, Mary.
    • Olivia's father.
  • Olivia Barker
    
    • Lady of Ryrstone.
    • Lars's daughter.
    • Paul's cousin.
  • Sophia (of Portston)
    
    • Peasant and whore.
    • Paid conspirator of Lars Barker; ordered to seduce/spy on Paul.
  • Winston
    
    • Lord of Greenbrier
    • Paul's bodyguard and most trusted knight

Story Concept:

Basically

• For more than a thousand years of recorded history, the land simply known as the Continent had never seen large scale conflict.
• Then, from the north, the Black Duke invaded his neighbors with the ultimate goal of conquering the entire Continent and becoming its first King.
• Over the next generation, nearly every Town, City, County, and Duchy was drawn into the conflict on one side or the other.
• Historians would come to be call that conflict The First War, and by the beginning of our story, it had seen thousands of warriors die on the battle field and tens of thousands of non-combatants die from disease, starvation, slavery, and siege.
• When my primary character, Paul, comes home from a failed mission to find his missing father, the Duke of Westrock, he learns that his father's most trusted Knight -- Count Lars Barker -- is not willing to simply hand over the Duchy after having been its leader for so long.
• Forces will ally themselves with either Paul or Lars, only furthering the conflict of this, the First War.

"When your past catches up to you."

William Kutcher:

• 27 years old (Born1990).
• 5'10", 180#.
• Fit with impressively rock solid chest and abs; and attractive.
• He's been described as having the facial likeness of Keanu Reeves and the body of the younger Mark Wahlberg.
• Hazel-green eyes that sparkle, particularly when he was happy.

Ella Burn
More coming.

"When your past catches up to you."

Cast of Characters: coming soon

"When your past catches up to you."

"Samuel and Elizabeth live in South Boston ... If you find a way to help them…yes, I'll help you. Just please save my brother and his wife."

"I will, I promise you, Keziah," William said without hesitation, despite having absolutely no idea how he was going to make that happen. This had been a dangerous time for anyone sneaking about the countryside, but it would be even more dangerous for him as he didn't know the area any more than he had researched during his education.

When he returned from having arranged a private night with his wife, William smiled and chuckled when Keziah said, "We're not doing that..."

"Of course not," he told her, despite wanting so very badly to do that with the beauty. William had yearned for Keziah from the first moment he'd felt her fingers upon his flesh, tending to his wounds. But, as she'd stressed, it wasn't proper. She bared his top half, and soon they were in bed, with William pulling the young widow close to him. Keziah had told him about her now gone husband, and -- though she didn't know it -- Samuel had told William a little more about her most recent intended who also was no longer in her life. William wondered when the last time was that Keziah had been with a man in that not proper way. Did Good women, as he had called her, sometimes find a man to fulfill their animalistic needs in this day and age? He doubted it very much. If he leaned over her and pressed his lips to hers, would she respond by pulling him hard to her and telling him Proper or not, I want you inside me? William doubted that as well.

Instead, he listened to her talk of her life as he held her tight to his side, one arm behind her neck, the hand of the other clutching Keziah's arm that was laid across his chest. He began to realize that she was exhausted when her words began to fail her. He'd been peeking inconspicuously toward the window occasionally for Peeping Toms without any results, and then suddenly there was indeed a face at the glass. Without seeming to notice the Guard, William rolled until he was hovering over Keziah.

"We're being watched, so ... time to pretend to be husband and wife," he said. He leaned down closer to her, almost until their lips met, and shifted his elbow to make it appear as if his arm was in places where only an 18th century husband should touch his wife. He whispered, "I'm going to turn the lamp down ... remove my trousers ... and come back to bed." He smiled, adding, "Don't worry ... we're not doing that."

He leaned closer yet again, to kiss her on the cheek -- soft but unhurried -- then rose from the bed to begin removing his trousers. William had arrived in the 18th century wearing a Hessian uniform for authenticity at the reenactment, but he'd always been a practical man so underneath it he was wearing a pair of modern underwear that did nothing to hide the erection that was forming within it. Once his Militia uniform trousers were on the ground, William took a step back, rapped a fist on the window frame, and growled, "Git!". There was laughter beyond the wall, which faded as not one but two Guards departed. William reached to turn the lamp down until it was barely lit at all, then made his way back to stand over the bed.

"Are you ready not to make love with your hero husband before he goes off to fight the dreaded Redcoats..." he said, trying to make light of the situation but fearing that he'd only embarrassed Keziah. He finished his question with, "Missus William Kutcher?"

"When your past catches up to you."

(FYI: I am changing the color of quoted dialogue from green to tan. It appears easier to read. If it isn't please tell me and I'll switch back.)

Keziah explained about the death of her husband, solemnly adding, "How can you call me a good woman when I let my husband die?"

Taking a chance on it being too familiar, William scooted closer until he was almost falling from the edge of his chair and took Keziah's hands in his again. "You didn't kill your husband. You didn't kill Charles. His fever ... it wasn't your fault." He wanted to remind her about the germs about which he'd spoke when they tended the now one armed Militiaman, but it wasn't the right time. She went to her room and began changing into her night clothes, and while he shouldn't have, William took a few peeks her direction in an attempt to get a view of her in fewer layers. Although he got a glimpse of her in her undergarments, it wasn't exactly an erotic moment compared to the ladies undergarments of the 21st century.

When Keziah returned, looking more comfortable and in a more familiar state than that in which a strange male should have seen her, she asked, "Will I ever get home?"

"Yes ... yes!" William reassured her, again taking her hands into his. He tilted his head into her line of sight, getting her to look into his eyes while he smiled and stressed, "I promised your brother that I would protect you. No harm will come to you, Keziah, so long as I am with you. I promise."

There was a knock at the door, which cracked open a bit.

"Excuse me, sir ... ma'am," the familiar voice of the Sergeant spoke from out of sight. His tone was far more polite than William had heard it to date as he stuck his head inside and continued, "The Colonel would like to speak to the gentleman, please."

William reassured Keziah that everything was fine, that he'd be right back. And less than an hour, he was ... but with an expression on his face that left little doubt as to how his meeting with the officer had gone. After pacing about for a moment, searching for and finding and finishing off the last of the flask's contents, then dropping into his chair near the fire again, William looked to Keziah with concern.

"They've moved the Howitzer's to the front lines ... and the Squad leaders are ... have been briefed," he told her in a low volume. "Scouts were sent around the Bottleneck even before we left for the Tyler Farm ... to quietly rally rebels inside the city ... to prepare for a dawn attack on the Bottleneck."

He let his head fall back onto the chair, staring again at the plank ceiling as he thought back to his history. When he looked to Keziah again, he told her, "Most of the British forces were--"

He paused, remembering that he was wasn't speaking of the long passed year of 1775 but was actually in that year. He continued, "They are in the north of the city ... to protect against an attack by sea ... from across the channels. There're only enough Redcoats at the South Wall to stop raids ... like the one I was injured in ... the one that led to us meeting."

William leaned forward to finish, then hesitated. He stood and went to a window, peeking out before moving to yet another and looking out it as well. He returned to Keziah, sitting and leaning in very close. "My loyalties are still being questioned ... so they've put extra Guards on the house. Keziah ... I can't let those guns be used against the South Wall. It may not sound like much, just two guns. But the wall wasn't built to withstand cannon fire. It will fall, the Militia will enter Boston." He contemplated a moment before concluding, "I don't know what will happen, whether the Militia will prevail or whether the British will push the Patriots back. But ... history could be changed, and--"

He stopped short, literally biting down on his bottom lip to keep himself from saying what he'd been about to reveal to her: if history was changed here, if the Patriots took Boston or if the Redcoats succeeded in not just pushing the rebels back but in also taking the territory to the south, that could have a significant effect on the yet-to-be-made British plans to send troops to New York next year after the Siege of Boston really ended. And William's Hessian ancestor was part of that force attacking Manhattan ... the ancestor who would bring with him a very important musket that -- William was certain -- was the reason he was here with Keziah now.

"History must remain as it is, Keziah," he stressed with a quiet but firm tone. "Will you help me?"

He listened to her response, then stood and moved to the home's front door again, calling for the Sergeant who he knew was on duty still. When the enlisted man arrived, William said loud enough for the woman behind him to hear, "Sergeant, I would like to be able to enjoy what might be my last night alive with my wife ... if you know what I mean." The Sergeant glanced over William's shoulder at the Hessian's wife, even allowing his gaze to inappropriately lower to ogle her body before acknowledging his understanding with a devilish smirk. William continued, "Would I be asking too much to have your men pulled back a bit ... out of, um ... hearing range?"

The two men talked more in whispers for a moment before William closed the door and turned to look to Keziah. He crossed to stand just out of her reach before saying, "So ... for me to get to the guns tonight after most of the camp has gone to sleep ... I need the Guards outside to think I'm here still ... spending time with my wife."

"When your past catches up to you."

William could see the confusion in Keziah's face slowly replaced with panic. Did she think he was nuts? Or maybe a ... what did they call a male witch, a warlock or a wizard or...? Maybe she believed him and simply couldn't process the concept. Hell, William was from the future, and if someone had told him then that they were from his future, he wouldn't have believed it ... and he lived in the era of great science.

He scooted forward on the stool and took Keziah's hands into his. He wanted to say something reassuring, but what? Soon, though, her panic began to subside, and Keziah finally spoke, "Tell me then. What is it like?"

William smiled a bit, asking, "What ... the future?"

He released her hands and sat up taller, chuckling. "Oh ... where do I start?"

He contemplated for a moment, then -- instead of beginning his answer -- told her as he stood, "Wait a moment, Keziah. We're going to need something before we begin this."

He went to and through the cabin's front door and chatted with the Guards. It was obvious that he was negotiating, and after he'd turned over most of a berry pie and a loaf of sweet nut bread, he returned to home's main room, gesturing Keziah to join him. He moved two chairs closer to the fire, which he stoked, then pulled out the gain from his trade, a metal flask of whiskey. He sucked from it, wincing at the sharpness, then offered it out. He didn't know whether good women of this era imbibed, so if she waved him off he wouldn't be offended.

"The future ... where to start..." William began, smiling softly as he studied Keziah, watching for her reactions. "Well, let's start with the war. We win ... the Patriots ... in 1981." He thought he saw something in Keziah's reaction to hearing that the war would go on for more than another six years. "General Cornwallis will surrender to General Washington after a siege at Yorktown ... in Virginia. We -- the United States -- will fight the British again in another war, the War of 1812 ... but, believe it or not, England and America are close allies now."

William went on to explain about how the Colonies became the United States of America, and about how the US spread west across the continent to eventually include 50 states, "Including Alaska ... have you heard of Alaska...? Oh, and Hawaii, which are actually called the Sandwich Islands. Wait, no ... not yet. But, soon. Captain Cook won't be there until ... oh, never mind, anyway..."

He moved onto explaining that the railroads would span the continent, then realized he had to explain what a railroad was seeing how the first American railroads were still 30 or 40 years away. "Oh, and cars. Thousands ... millions of cars rushing this way and that on freeways ... concrete roads ... like the smoothest cobblestone you could imagine, at twice the speed of the fastest horse you've ever seen."

William tried to avoid mention of the seemingly endless number of wars that would follow the current one, but if Keziah asked a question about future conflicts, he told himself he would answered her. One thing he was dead set about bringing up was The Bomb. Keziah had already seen the effects of rifle shot and cannon concussion on men: the last thing about which she needed to know -- about which she needed in her nightmares -- was a single bomb that could kill millions in a single flash of light.

When the topic came around to William's personal history, the man from the 21st century sat up tall in his chair and contemplated what he wanted to tell her about his life. "Well, like I said, I was born in 1990. I'm 27 years old. I was born in Portland. That's Portland, Oregon, not Portland, Maine. It's clear on the other side of the country ... the other side of the US, on the Pacific Coast, almost anyway. I was an only child. My father died in a car crash -- I told you about cars -- when I was 12. My mom, she, um ... well, she ... she never recovered from losing my dad. She, um..."

He glanced at the flask in his hands, which -- at about 20 ounces in size -- was by now nearly empty. He capped and tossed it aside, then decided to skip the explanation about his mother's alcoholism, instead only saying, "She got sick and died when I was 18, just a couple of months after I went off to college."

Even though he'd told Keziah the amazing story of airplanes, jets, and space ships, he decided not to mention drones, fearing that she would ask him about their use. He didn't want to explain that he'd once worked as a contractor flying military drones, dropping bombs from great heights to destroy ISIS positions ... and, on two occasions, vehicles filled with innocent Syrian women and children. William had tried for years to forget those incidents, and the last things Keziah needed was to know about that kind of warfare.

"After college, I did this and that for a living," he continued, already missing the flask. "I had always been interested in my family's Hessian heritage, so I went back to school to get a Ph.D.--" He hesitated, not remembering whether the 18th century had had such upper level degrees, then decided he didn't care to explain it. "I got interested in Revolutionary War reenactments, and ... that's how I ended up here."

William hadn't actually told Keziah that he'd killed a man with his ancestor's rifle. He'd only said he'd fired at the man. He continued, describing some of his reenactment memories before switching subjects. "I never married. I never found a good woman who would put up with my ... oh, lets call them idiosyncrasies. I wouldn't put a good woman through that kind of crap. A good woman ... like yourself, Keziah."

"When your past catches up to you."

William considered Keziah's request, and he wanted so badly to tell her the truth of his situation. It would be such a relief to tell someone ... anyone. For days now, his mind had been skipping between believing that this was real and believing that it was all a fantasy. Perhaps talking about it out loud would finally push it entirely one way or the other. But ... would Keziah believe him? How could she? William didn't believe it himself, and he was from an era when stories of time travel not only filled the scripts of books, television, and movies but was actually being researched -- directly and indirectly -- by both governments and private industries across the globe.

"I told you who I am," he told her in the most sincere tone he could, adding, "Sort of."

William paced a few more steps before the fire place, during which his mind asked Do they say 'Sort of' in this time? He glanced to Keziah and knew that what he'd said wasn't going to be enough. He moved a stool over before her and sat upon it, just two feet between the two of them. He was about to tell her a story about being a Continental Army spy under the direct authority of General Washington himself, when he hesitated instead, then said bluntly, "I'm from the future."

He watched for her reaction, then leaned in a little closer. He began to speak, then chuckled nervously. After drawing and exhaling a deep breath, he spilled out every little detail of how he'd ended up here and how he'd known about the Tyler Farm: the reenactment, the terrorist attack, the Hessian rifle, the Covington Letters. "My name is William, as I told you. William Kutcher. I'm 27 years old ... but--" He did the math quickly, then continued, "But I wasn't born in 1748. I was born in 1990. Keziah ... I won't be born ... for another, what ... 215 years."

"When your past catches up to you."

To be replaced with OOC Contents

"When your past catches up to you."

William had a similar reaction of modesty when he realized Keziah was in the doorway, turning his back to her to hide at least his dangling manhood. Later, when he was able to privately laugh about the incident, he would find himself happy that the warm water with which he'd been washing and the rather erotic nature of standing naked in a tub in the middle of someone else's home had left him dangling impressively, rather than shrunk as often happened when exposing yourself in chilled air or out of a cold stream. But, this moment was not the moment of such thoughts: at this moment, William was simply embarrassed.

"I'm glad your back but can you at least put some trousers on? Please?"

William stepped out of the tub and snatched up a spare over shirt he'd dug out of a drawer, using it quickly to rub away at least some of the water before he explained, "I'm so sorry. They-- The Guards said you would be in the hospital all night."

As he slipped the now somewhat wet shirt on and began donning a fresh pair of farmer trousers, William wondered whether or not he'd been set up by the Militiamen guarding him. But, they all seemed to believe that he and Keziah were, in fact, wedded. So, no, the laughter of the Guard at the door had to simply be the result of seeing the wifey so visibly embarrassed. Once William had his pants tied around his waist with the rope that had already been on the pants, he told Keziah so, then -- with his own blush going and feeling suddenly comical -- asked, "So, how was your day, honey?"

..........

The woman who had been assisting Keziah with settling in came by a bit later with a basket full of food, some of it prepared, some of it needing to be so. She asked if they needed anything more from her, to which Keziah asked for what she wanted and for which William asked, "Do you have any news you can share...? You know, about what's happening ... between the British and the Americans."

The woman donned a rather odd expression at William's use of the word Americans, and he had to remind himself that the people of the Colonies hadn't taken to calling themselves that quite yet. Oh, there had been incidents of people referring to themselves as Americans dating clear back to the early 16th century, but most of those had been ship's captains or merchants referring to the New World routes in which they participated, not to a sense of nationality as it would soon become. No, it was only after the end of the Revolutionary War that the word became popular, and even then 1 out of 3 Colonists still claimed loyalty to England and -- despite the British defeat -- considered themselves British citizens. It wouldn't be until after the passing of the U.S. Constitution in 1789 or even after the second American victory in the War of 1812 that the word William had so casually tossed out became the standard identifier for those living in this region of the still-yet-to-be-fully-settled continent.

"What about the guns we brought back?" William asked after the woman seemed not to understand that about which he was inquiring. "Are they doing anything with the Howitzers ... the cannons?"

"Oh, I do not know such things," she said, again asking Keziah if there was anything more she could do. When William pressed her again, the woman got a bit defensive. "Please, sir, do not ask such things of me. 'Tis not my place to know such ... nor my place to talk about such."

Once she was done with Keziah, the woman shot William a suspicious glance, then left. He looked to the woman who was role playing his wife and, after searching for how to explain, told her, "We captured two heavy guns yesterday ... brought them back this morning from the Tyler Farm ... eight inch Howitzers." He turned away, beginning to pace about slowly as he continued, "The Patriots weren't meant to have these guns. They were meant to have been destroyed. Covington had them destroyed after he lost his powder, so that if they were found by the Americans -- by the Second Regiment -- they couldn't be used. Now, Hardison has them, and with them he can crush the British defenses at the Bottleneck. And if he does that, they'll flood up into Boston and change the course of the war ... change history."

After a moment of silent pacing, William glanced Keziah's direction and found her staring at him with an expression that either meant she simply didn't understand or she thought he was crazy. Either may have been true. Hell, both may be true: occasionally, William had tried to tell himself that this was all but a dream and that any moment he would wake up and it would all be over. He's be back in 21st century Boston, laying flat on his back at the reenactment, disoriented but alive and well as the terrorists rampaging through the park were dealt with by someone other than he and his Hessian musket.