I awoke in the middle of the night with my senses on edge. My head was pounding, and I was bathed in sweat. So much for the bath I'd taken two days hence. Obviously, I'd been having that strange dream again, since I always awoke confused and upset afterwards.

I barely heard a stealthy footfall, in my confused state, but my reflexes served me well when my dream addled mind did not. I rolled to the side just in time to avoid a swiftly plunging blade that penetrated deeply into the cheap straw mattress, where scant seconds ago, I'd been.

Drawing my rapier was not necessary, because from force of habit, I always left the weapon out of its scabbard and close to me, even when in bed. This, or similar scenarios, had played out several times during my life, and necessity had carved the habit into me. I thrust the weapon just above and to the right of the dagger that impaled my mattress, into what looked like a head. My good English steel was barely slowed as it penetrated something soft and mushy. It did slow a bit as it met stiff resistance about six inches later.

I yanked my rapier free and moved to the door of my room. It was still locked from the inside, which meant that the intruder had either come in through my open window, or he had locked it back upon entry. I favored the former, since my visitor would probably want to make as quick a getaway as possible, after murdering me. And also because, if he wasn't able to do the job, he definitely wouldn't want to be trapped in a locked room with me; my reputation as a swordsman did give me a certain respect.

I stepped out into the hallway, blade in hand and saw no one. I stealthily crept back into my own room re-locked the door and looked out of the window.

There below, barely visible in the pre-dawn light I saw two dark horses, with a rider on one of them. He didn't see me looking down at him from the darkness of my room. I reached outside the window and tapped on the ledge three times, then threw a leg over the ledge and began the climb down. The fool moved the horse over closer to the wall so I could mount it and shorten the length of my descent. I dropped onto the horse and turned to see my attempted murderer's accomplice.

She was nearly as surprised as I was. Her face was angelic, framed by inky black curls that shone in the moonlight. A Cupid's bow mouth opened in surprise for only a moment before she dug her heels into her horse's sides and took off riding quickly into the night. I hesitated for only a second before flinging my dagger after her. I missed on purpose, and watched as the knife stuck point first, in a doorway just inches away from her pretty head.

I'd always had a weakness for women, especially beautiful ones. There was also the fact that this one, though she had been with my attacker, she had done me no harm herself, so I did not give chase. But I would remember that face and if we ever crossed paths again, I would have my answers.

I went back to my room by the inside stairway, and found my door still locked.

I had to wake the Inn's sleeping proprietor to let me back inside it. "How did ya come to lock yourself out," he asked me through sleepy eyes.

"Come inside and see for your-self," I replied.

He took a candle from one of the wall sconces in the hallway and followed me in. As the light from his candle shone on the body laid out across my bed, he gasped in surprise.

"Who is he sir?" he asked now wide awake. Judging from his reaction, I gathered two important pieces of information. One was that he had nothing to do with my attackers; and second that he had never before been this close to a corpse.

"I don't know who he was," I replied, "But he tried to kill me while I slept."

I pulled his dagger out of my mattress, and looked it over. It was beautiful though unornamented. It was a relatively long, though very thin blade, with a triangular cross section; I'd heard of these, but never before actually seen one.

The fact that the blade had no decoration or jewels, told me that it was owned by a professional. Being very plain in workmanship, made the blade's origins harder to track, and also said that it was created for one purpose, killing and nothing more.

"I've never seen a knife like that before," said the Inn keeper, "It has no cutting edges; it's more like a pointed steel rod than anything else."

"It's Italian," I spat. "They call it a stiletto. They use them for stealthily killing, those whom they can't honorably defeat with the sword. This is probably also why they decided to try and do it in the middle of the night; while I slept."

"If not for a troublesome dream I've had of late," I began. "It could just as easily be my corpse you found here in the morning."

"Luckily you paid in advance," smiled the Innkeeper.

"I'll be gone in a few moments after examining the body for clues as to who would like to see me breathe my last," I said. "But feel free to take his belongings and the horse outside, for any trouble or expense you've incurred."

The Innkeeper smiled and bowed as he left me to my inspection of the corpse.

I didn't learn very much by looking it over. My rapier thrust had caught him in his right eye and penetrated into his brain and through the back of his skull.

There was almost no blood, so very little mess for the Innkeeper to clean up, except for the body itself. The clothing told me very little, and his face, even less. I had never before laid eyes on this bastard. He'd obviously been hired by someone else with a grudge against me. So I let the matter rest for now and began making my preparations to depart.

I had always traveled light, with only my Rapier, musket, a couple of daggers and a cloak, I was relatively unencumbered. I stopped at the Inn's kitchen and got a satchel of dried and salted foods, and a cask of wine and one of water, and I was off.

I got my steed from the stable, after rousing the stable hand. The silver coin I gave him for taking care of my animal made up for his distress at being awakened so early.

My horse was a rare animal, so I had to make sure that he was well cared for. He was of a smaller though far hardier breed that the Spanish had brought back from their voyages. He was supposedly, the only survivor of several animals brought back from the new world, wherever that was.

I started down the long road going in the same general direction that the woman who had helped my attacker took.

Two days of hard riding and sleeping under the stars brought me to the domain of the Duke of Albany. It was just after mid afternoon when I rode up to the Castle's gates and was stopped by guards.

"Alexander Lake, to see the elder Duchess of Albany," I said to the guard. He took one look at my road dusty clothes, and "humphed." As if I was beneath his notice.

"Alexander Lake, is older and far bigger than you, pup," he said.

"He as fast as... ," he began, but never had a chance to finish his sentence before I leaped down from my horse, drew my rapier and had its point at his throat.

"Shall we escort you in sir?" he choked out, being very careful of my blade's point.

"Perhaps you'd better," I said. "So I won't have to explain myself, or my presence here to the rest of your guards."

I was escorted across the yard and into the castle to a lavishly appointed room on the lower level. As we'd crossed the grounds I'd heard the sounds of baying hounds in the forests outside the castle gates and I heard them again now, though slightly closer. Who would be hunting, I wondered when the entire country teetered on the brink of war with the French, yet again?

As I looked around the large room I was fascinated by the displays of armor, and weapons from bygone eras. I was pulled from my revelry by a slight giggle behind me. I turned and saw a small form just behind me. She curtsied politely and looked at me appraisingly, "The duchess will see you now sir, If you'll follow me," she said, in a pleasant voice. I'd follow you anywhere, I thought after seeing her face. Her dress served more to accentuate her femininity than to obscure it. She smiled at me again and pointed the way.

We ascended a stairway and went down several hallways going ever deeper into the bowels of the castle. Finally we reached a large door at which two men at arms wielding battle halberds, and wearing ceremonial half armor, stood guard.

My escort nodded at them and we entered the room, my escort remained on the outside.

There was a large expensive appearing desk at the back of the room with a figure behind it. The drapes were drawn and the rear part of the room was dim, which made it hard to see the figure in any kind of detail. With a soft rustle of silk the figure rose and approached me. As she stepped out of the shadows I could see that she had a stout figure, but that it also had its own allure. The dress was beautiful and cut to mold her every curve. It would probably be considered scandalous to wear in public, although she was covered from head to toe. The neckline did after the fashion of the day scoop daringly to showcase the tops of her large breasts which jiggled at every step. She stepped towards me, obviously pleased at my reaction, by the look on her face.

She paused before me as if expecting me to do something. I quickly dropped to one knee bowing deeply. I had almost forgotten that even in these days, the most minor of nobility expected to be bowed to and scraped for. By summoning me the woman obviously knew that I had no interest in serving anyone, I only sought the money to restore my own estate, not out of any loyalty or obligation to anyone else's but I played the game never the less.

"Alexander Lake, I presume," she said in a very throaty voice, which in itself did absolutely nothing to squelch my rising interest in the woman.

"Or should, I call you Lord du Lac?" she asked smiling.

The woman obviously knew my family's history but it would gain her no advantage over me, because my mind was firmly rooted in the present, and the past held no special affection or any shame for me.

"With all due respect ma'am, can we skip to the nature of our business," I said crisply.

She looked at me, as I struggled to keep my eyes on hers, scanning me from top to bottom.

"My Husband the current Duke of Albany has been passed over in the line of succession, due to his infirmity both of body and of mind. However with Albany being a powerful state on its own the Royal family has no desire to offend us, lest we re-choose our alliances in the coming days or simply remain neutral. So to this end, they have wisely given my son, his father's place in the succession. There in lies the problem. My son has certain foibles of his own, in terms of his choices of company, and his young wife, strumpet though she has turned out to be, has been less than discrete as of late and must be put into her place.

"I don't kill women or children, for any reason or any price," I said.

"No one is asking you to do so," she said quickly. "If it becomes necessary to dispose of my daughter in law and find another to disguise my son's peculiarities, an accident will be arranged for her. You task is to discourage her current less than discrete paramour, in any way necessary."

"Why choose me?" I asked pointedly, sensing possible subterfuge.

"You're an outsider, so you wouldn't necessarily be linked with Albany. The man in question is known to be a cousin of the Lord of Cornwall, who is powerful in his own way. He is also said to be quite the swordsman himself. Perhaps you've heard of him, Sir George of Lockwell," she said smiling.

All of the pieces fell into place then. Though we had never laid eyes on each other, two or three generations ago, the Lockwells had history with the Lakes. Those old scores were dead and buried though. Lockwell was reputed to be a terror with a blade though. It might be interesting.

"Does the sum of two thousand pounds sterling sound about right for your assistance in this matter?" she asked.

It was easily twice what I'd hoped for, but I didn't let on as much.

"Adequate," I said, "If you give me the particulars in terms of location, I'll get started immediately."

"There is the question of course of your fitness for this endeavor," she said, "I propose a two part audition. If you survive both parts, the job is yours."

"What kind of audition?" I asked.

In response she opened the bodice of her dress freeing her large breasts.

"You've had trouble taking your eyes off them since you came into the room," she said breathlessly.

She was of course correct, though the Duchess was old enough to be my mother, and although not nearly what I'd call beautiful, in an erotic sort of way she had drawn my attention from the beginning. There was something about her face that was familiar. As she bared those large pale globes of succulent flesh, my breathing became labored. She reached out and grabbed me by the waist and pulled me back into the darker area of the room.

"This will have to be quick I'm afraid, my husband is due back soon," she said, bending over the desk. Then she pulled the dress up around her waist and revealed that she wore no undergarments.

"But, what about your husband, I shouldn't do this" I said. But as I said it, I felt a connection between us somehow.

"Do you really wish to discuss my husband, when we could be doing other things?" she asked. "Besides he doesn't care, it's all a part of our game."

In response, I pulled down my britches and rubbed my engorged member between her legs. There wasn't much hair on her female organ and it was dripping with her natural lubrication. She began moaning as I teasing her by rubbing my organ through it for a while. Then she gave a quick sigh as I began tentatively inserting it into her love canal. I needn't have worried though as she quickly pumped her large hips back into me until my sword was completely sheathed in her depths.

"Hurry," she whispered breathlessly, "Do me hard and fast."

Never one to argue with a lady, I grabbed her around the waist, and began pumping her with long hard strokes. She matched my rhythm and I reached forward to caress her dangling teats.

"Aah," she cried, she obviously enjoyed having her bosom mauled. I pushed her forward further on the desk, and started fucking her faster and harder.

She grabbed my hand and bit into it to keep from crying out. She also spread her legs further to allow me to penetrate deeper. The arm that was still on her breast pushed down further towards her button and I began rubbing it gently and was rewarded as her movements grew more frantic. I began to lose track of my senses as my body took control, forcing my organ as deeply into her it could reach.

She began convulsing and though it was as I said before rather voluminous, her female organ began contracting about me. She bit my hand deeply enough to draw blood, in an effort not to cry out as she climaxed. Then she quickly straightened herself up and turned to face me. She dropped down to her knees before me and took my member, still dripping with her juices inside her mouth. This was new to me as no one had done this to me before. She began stroking me with her mouth and suddenly I finished, and she swallowed every trace of my fluids.

She stood up, leaving me surprised and nearly ready to collapse, while she calmly rearranged her clothing.

"I could not let you finish inside me," she said, "I fear you are potent enough to get me, even at my age with child. But I do hope that you survive the second part of your audition. If only because I look forward to having you, again, only with more time and under more comfortable circumstances."

Then she left the room, leaving me dazed and confused. As I got my wits about me and restored my own clothing I heard heavy footsteps. It still didn't register in my addled brain what was happening. The door opened, and they ran into the room. There were four of them, all gazing intently at me. One of the guards from outside still holding his large halberd waited by the door as the other three approached me. One approached from the left, holding a dagger, the one to the right, held an old mace, and the one in the center had a sword rapier. If I could manage to get by the three of them, there was still the matter of the larger man with the halberd barring the door, and watching my every move.

I backed up to the desk to give me room and time to plan. The man with the mace ran to catch up to me. This would be child's play despite his obvious skill with the weapon. Neither, he, or the dagger wielding foe, had any chance against me. It was simple actually, unlike in fiction, it was common sense, and their weapons gave them a much shorter reach than mine did. Long before they were close enough to touch me, I could dispatch them with ease. Their only advantage was in numbers and by moving ahead of the other two, the man with the mace had given up this advantage. As he stepped within my reach I simply thrust towards his weapon easily. He attempted to block only to have me disengage and re-thrust, my blade found a new home in his chest. I yanked my blade free, as his face showed its surprise at his failure. I snatched the heavy mace from his hand as he fell.

Of the two remaining, I respected the sword-rapier more. Though the blade was heavier and wider than mine, which gave me a slight speed advantage, I did not have the advantage of greater striking distance against it.

I circled keeping the man with the dagger out of range. As the sword moved towards my head, I parried it. Then I swung the heavy Mace against the hand guard smashing the hand that held the sword. Before the man could withdraw, I thrust my rapier into his leg just above his knee and drew blood. As I pulled my blade free of his wound, he tried to grab his cut with his free hand to staunch the flow of blood, which left him bending slightly forwards. My kick just beneath his chin put him out of the fight, bruised and bloody but still alive.

The man with the dagger was obviously one of those alley fighters; he started switching his knife from side to side making little circles as he ran towards me. He thrust at me, but he was far out of reach. I retreated, and watched as the silly man advanced again. This time as he slashed at me, still far out of range, I ended his misery by burying my blade in his throat. As I looked up the man with the heavy halberd had closed the door and taken up a stance in front of it. This man was bigger than all of the others and his weapon gave him the advantage of reach over mine. There was also the fact that he could easily snap my rapier's blade with his weapon.

I sheathed my sword and bent down to pick up the mace once more, and also slipped the Italian Stiletto from my boot into my hand un-noticed.

Straightening up, I swung the mace in front of me as if I intended to cross the room and engage with him. He wisely stood his guard. There was no need for him to move. I had to go through him to get out. Then just outside of the range at which he could crush me with the large spear-like weapon I stopped and threw the mace at him with all the strength I could muster.

He barely dodged the head of the heavy weapon, which crashed into the wall near his head. Unfortunately for him, the mace was only a distraction.

I threw the unseen slim bladed Stiletto which caught him in mid chest ending the fight. The blade must've punctured a lung because he made gurgling sounds as he tried to breathe.

I withdrew the Stiletto from his wound as he slowly perished; I intended to keep the weapon, since it had brought me nothing but good luck so far. As I opened the door I found myself face to face with several more men, who all bore surprised expression on their faces that it was I who exited the room. At the end of the hallway a quiet, older man merely clapped his hands as if applauding a great performance. "Well done," he said, "Well done indeed." From his clothing and bearing I knew I was looking at the Duke. The man I'd just cuckolded. Strangely enough he looked like an older version of me, it was puzzling.

I bowed and left the room. As I got to the bottom of the stairwell the same chamber maid from before was waiting for me. She handed me a bundle of clothing and several sheets of paper, one of which was a promisory note for half of my promised fee. She again escorted me through the castle and out into the courtyard.

I rode a short distance and found a conveniently located Inn. The Innkeeper was a short well rounded woman, who immediately started me thinking about the Duchess. That had been the first time in my life that I had relations with a married woman. If I was going to hell, it would be worth it, though it hadn't been my fault.

I looked at the handwritten pages she had sent me. In very neat script she explained that the younger Duchess and her paramour often met in this very Inn, which had been a stroke of luck on my part. My instructions which I hadn't followed, had said that I was to stay at the other Inn, or camp in the woods near the castle. I had chosen to ignore them out of my suspicion that perhaps the Duchess or even the Duke had something to do with the attempt upon my person a few days ago. It really wasn't that much of a coincidence though considering that there were probably only 1 or 2 Inns within a day's ride of the Castle. I had simply picked the wrong one, or perhaps the right one depending on your point of view.

I settled in and tried to sleep on the lumpy straw mattress, and found my mind going over too many things for sleep to easily overtake me. No one seemed shocked that I had arrived, which made me think that no one at the castle had a hand in hiring my would-be assassin.

I finally closed my eyes and fell asleep.

I woke up parked in my driveway. The Mustang's Mach1 Engine still purring as air eased its way into the ram air scoop. I wiped the crud from my eyes and decided once and for all that I had to get off the fucking night shift if I had to pay somebody to do it. I looked around and realized with that sinking feeling that despite my ultimatum, Vanessa wasn't here. At least her car wasn't in the driveway or in front of the house.

I had been having that fucking dream again, the one where I was a musketeer or something. It always felt so fucking real. I could still feel the impression of the sword in my hand. I had never even seen a sword outside of a museum let alone held one. Maybe it was my subconscious way of saying that I needed to be more active, more aggressive if I was going to save my marriage.

Only yesterday I had told Vanessa that I knew what she was doing, and she needed to put a stop to it immediately. Apparently she hadn't taken me seriously, because while I was out working my ass off all night, she was out again. She was probably out with Lockwood again, I was sure he was the one she was fucking. Well he could have her; this shit was over with as of now. I went up to our bedroom and started packing some of her things. Just like in my dream, I needed to take quick and appropriate action. I lay down on the bed to try and come up with a plan.

First I needed to consider my options. I could pretend that I didn't know what was going on and suffer in silence waiting for her to come to her senses.

That was obviously not an option. There was no way I'd put up with this shit any longer. I could challenge Lockwood to a duel and fight for Vanessa's honor like the guy in my dream probably would. That was also not an option. George Lockwood was twice my size and would beat me to a bloody pulp, and laugh at me while he did it. This wasn't a fucking movie, and I didn't know Karate. The only sport I was good at was running. That was it; maybe I could use my truly awesome cardiovascular fitness to my advantage. I could run over to Lockwood's place and start challenging him and run away when he came after me, then when he was exhausted and wheezing from chasing me for a few blocks, I could run up behind him and scream Boo!, causing him to have a heart attack and die. Then I'd get my wife back and have my revenge.

Maybe I could throw Vanessa out and take Lockwood's wife, she was quite a babe. I'd often wondered how a big sack of shit like him had landed her.

Maybe that would work. Then I realized that I was thinking about the plot of a story I'd read on the internet. I needed something that a normal guy, with no fucking super powers could do. Another thing to consider was whether or not I even wanted Vanessa back. And if I did; why did I want her back? We had only been married for two years. All of my friends had warned me about her from the start, but I was sure that they were wrong. I guess my intelligence when it came to business didn't carry over into everyday life.

At twenty four, I was the youngest plant manager in the history of the company. Only 2 years out of college and I was one of 2 plant managers. My future was very bright or so everyone said. Of course being the plant manager with the lowest seniority meant that I was in charge of the plant during the night shift.

I guess the fact that I was working five nights a week had taken its toll on my marriage over the last 4 months. But shit all it took was four months for the bitch to start cheating on me? Maybe it was time for me to seriously consider life without her. It really wouldn't be that hard to get rid of her I thought, my attorney had insisted on that pre-nup, which if we divorced in less than three years gave her bupkiss. I think she'd get something like a hundred bucks a month for all the time we'd been together. And this was a no-fault state, so the judge would honor the pre-nup. Yep for less money than I'd spent on my engine modifications, I could be free of the bitch. That was the last thing I remember before I drifted off to sleep.

I awoke again bathed in sweat and very afraid. What was that monstrous machine that I'd been riding in? It had strange wheels. They were made of a metal so shiny that it gleamed, but they were covered on the outsides by something soft and cushiony. I thought that all wheels were made of wood. I had heard of metal wheels on a carriage but never seen them, and I doubt that they were made like that. Also and most disconcerting, was the sound that the machine made.

It sounded as if angry bears were trapped inside it. Perhaps that was the reason for its truly alarming speed.

I began to remember details for once, but they made no kind of sense to me. Mustang, V, 8, ram, air, scoop; all of these were words that I had heard before. But in this context they made absolutely no sense.

Mustang was what the Spanish called my horse. I didn't know why or what it meant but I'd heard the term before. V is of course a letter of the alphabet, and 8 is a number, to be sure only educated people would know that. But when you put V and 8 together again it makes no sense. A ram is an animal, everyone knows that. Air is of course what we breathe, and lastly a scoop is a big spoon; what did all of this mean.

My musings were cut short by the sound of an approaching coach. I looked out my window and saw the coach approach. The driver remained in his seat, while the footman jumped down and looked around. It was almost as if he was checking to see if anyone was watching. Then he opened the rear door of the coach and dragged a woman out. Her hands were bound and she appeared to be gagged. Her features were astoundingly beautiful and somehow familiar to me. She had fiery red hair and a slim build. The footman dragged her into the Inn, as she fought him all the way.

This was not the scenario I'd anticipated. This did not seem to be a tryst between lovers. Perhaps I needed to investigate this before I made a mistake.

I quietly left my room and moved silently to the stairwell. I heard voices just outside and below.

"What do you mean, I won't get to have my way with her," said a very loud gruff voice.

"There simply won't be time, the fool should be here any moment," said a voice I recognized as belonging to the Duke.

"He will of course go into the room, expecting to find you fornicating with the strumpet," said the Duke, "But instead he'll find the point of your blade in his guts."

"We will of course spread the tale that he, was the one with whom she betrayed my son," continued the Duke. "My son will of course be broken hearted, but for a few years no one will wonder why he has not chosen another young lady. When the time comes of course we'll have taught a young woman exactly how to behave, so there won't be a recurrence of this unfortunate situation."

"After the fool is dead, perhaps then you can play with her for a while, but she must not be marked, we need her to appear to be in good health when we hang her," said the Duke. "If she were too badly brutalized, there might be talk."

"What of Lake?" asked the other man, who was obviously Sir George of Lockwood who was definitely a part of the deception.

"He'll get what he deserves," sneered the Duke. "It's all part of a little game that I play with my wife, Vanessa."

"She gets to sample, some witless young buck, to appease her carnal desires; I kill them to appease mine," he laughed, "On Sunday, we go to the church and ask for absolution for our sins, which we never name. The Bishop absolves us, we make a donation, and life goes on, until the next time."