FicWad

In the morning, Lynn makes breakfast for everyone. Shane and Jack moved the tables into the ballroom before dawn. After breakfast, Lynn packs lunches and Jack feeds his sheep and horses. The hired carriages arrive at the Senate an hour before the meeting is scheduled to start. Jack invites the children into his office to wait. He drafts an amendment to the proposed war-funding bill, then waits downstairs for the bill’s author, who often votes with Jack. The author is Tiernan McRae. He represents District Six on the far northern shore, and his family came from Bridgeton. He has distant cousins in Gráig ag Abhainn in District Thirteen. He lives in District Five part of the year and District Six when the Senate is not in session. He reads Jack's amendment and immediately accepts it.

When the meeting starts, the children wait in the hall for a bell. The wealthy Senators argue for nearly two hours before anyone sees the amendment. Julius is somewhat irritated by Jack's proposal, but when Jack takes the floor, he hits the bell to signal the children's entry. Immediately, most of the conservative Senators change their minds.

“These, ladies and gentlemen, are the children whom the amendment will benefit. There are more outside of the cities with no school at all. My sons are upstairs. Jason is the same age as some of the younger children here. He is in a small class where everyone has books and is the same age. These children and the rest of their classmates who could not come will never have the chances our own children will. Ask yourselves, is it right to blame a child for his parents’ poverty? Should he be punished for generations of poverty? We all know that the area from which these children came was once affluent. It was starved, burned, and held under siege. From those streets, from the very streets where these children live in squalor and destitution was born the revolution that made the Senate. I was there. I proudly wear upon my jacket the medals that were bestowed upon me for my part in that revolution, but many men I knew died before their land was freed from tyranny. I ask you, did they die in vain? Do their sons and daughters, grandchildren, nieces and nephews deserve as much a chance as your own children? The Vampire District is the wealthiest per capita in all of Hell. Why, then, do we not share our wealth with these children? Why, then, do we have several of the poorest cities in all of Hell? The industries get military contracts. They can afford taxes. These children will be the ones who grow up to fight and die in our army because their families need the money promised by a soldier’s salary. Many of these children will lose fathers and uncles. Their families are barely surviving now. Think if the breadwinner were to die. The family would lose their home and probably end up on the streets. With a school that can stay open and not close for repairs every other week, some of these children can go on to secondary school and maybe even a university someday on the money that is already set aside both by the Senate and the schools themselves to help poor students who are capable. The cycle of poverty cannot be broken overnight, but with a step up, which is all I ask, these children, and their children, and their children’s children can work toward a future out of poverty. I relinquish the floor.”

Jack returns to his seat to a standing ovation from the Senate. The children return upstairs during the vote. Whether for the defense funding or for the school, the vote unanimously passes the bill. Even Julius congratulates Jack on his oration. “You surprised me. I didn’t think you had it in you. I can’t help but think of my little daughter. I know you yourself came from less-than-desirable circumstances. Perhaps I should trust your judgment more often.”

“Thankee. It means a lot.”

“Jack,” says Maire. “Your son ought to have heard that. I’m surprised that you managed to drop your accent for that long.”

“I try. ‘Twas hard. I like me own voice better. Excuse me.”

Jack feels a small hand tugging at his wrist. Kerrigan smiles and says, “Congratulations, Jack. That was simply genius. I think we should meet at The Crane and Sparrow at eight tonight. Do not forget that there is also a meeting tomorrow. I shall see you later.”

Jack returns to his office and sees the children looking expectantly up at him. “It passed. Ye’ll have a new school.”

Lynn runs over to her husband and jumps into his arms, kissing him and congratulating him. The children crane their necks to see. Many of them have parents who are not affectionate at all, lest there should come along another mouth to feed. Jack brings the children home after lunch, spreading the good news. The Cranes are the last to return home. Mike still looks somewhat bruised, but he is standing with the help of two canes. “Good t’see ye, Jack.”

“Which one?” asks Mike’s eldest.

“Both’ve ye.”

“Good to see ye as well, Mike. It passed.”

“By God, Jack! How?”

“Either from all them Hail Mary’s ye said or by showin’ ‘em the future.”

“Might I add,” interrupts Kerrigan, “that he made a speech that proved what can come out of these streets.”

“’Tis hope, Jack. ‘Tis all we can ask for,” says Mike.

“Ack! Enough chatter. Ye ken well why I’m here,” Jack says.

“Aye,” replies Mike. “I do, affer all, t’night’s a night for celebratin’. I think I’ll be after drinkin’ wi’ ye. Me ‘prentice can handle the bar.”

“Mike, ye’re already drunk. Faith, 'tisn’t like ye. How long’ve ye been at it?”

“Since yesterday. Ye got me started. Jaysus, Jack! Your blood’s got more alcohol in it when ye’re not even drunk than most ale.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

Lynn brings Mike’s daughter upstairs and sings her to sleep. She then joins Jack, Mike, and Kerrigan downstairs. “So, Mike, is your wife around?” she asks.

“I’ve not seen the slut since yesterday. I hope she’s gone for good. If ‘weren’t for little Jack, an’ me own boys, an’ me darlin’ Maggie, I’d gladly do the time for doin’ away wi’ her, her da’ be damned. A man as sensible as oul’ Sparrow oughta know when his daughter’s not but a common hussy.”

“Mike, are you certain the younger ones are yours?” asks Jack.

"If they didn’t look like me, I’d not be certain. Even the oldest, though, I brought into life wi’ me own two hands.”

“Jack, darling,” says Lynn, “slow down.”

“I’ve an awful thirst. Don’t be worryin’ ‘bout me.”

“How’s your brother, Jack?” asks Mike.

“Passing fair. He’s a wee bit lonesome, but he’s alive.”

“At least ye could save him,” Mike says in a haunted tone. “’Nother round, boyo. This time, make it a double.”

“I cannot be out late. My husband is expecting me,” mentions Kerrigan.

“Nonsense,” says Mike. “Have a drink.”

“Kerrigan, ye never miss a chance to drink,” says Jack.

“I do not have much chance to see my husband.”

“Don’t you just split yourself three ways?”

“I can only manage two during wartime, and even that is dangerous. I have not seen my husband since the war began. Last night, I stayed with my son. Death was not feeling well.”

“Faith, that must be awful! I mean, painful as it is for me to be apart from Lynn, ye’ve lived wi’ him since ye was jus’ small.”

“Indeed, I have. It would do well not to forget that, Senator.”

“’Twas ye what asked to meet me here. So, tell me, why?”

“I wanted to congratulate you more properly on the subject of your amendment and to tell both Michael and you that the newspapers have reported Jack’s surgical performance. This is a warning, Michael. There are a lot of people who will read that. With Jack being a Senatorial General in wartime and having just passed an amendment allowing Senatorial funds to aid the poor for the first time, the story will be popular, which means people will travel here. I would suggest you stock up the bar and read what they have said about you.”

“Don’t tell me childer this,” whispers Mike, “but I can’t read. I can recognize me name when I sees it, an’ I can scribble sommat what looks like me name. I can jus’ figure the word ‘rum’ from ‘gin’ from what’s in the bottle. ‘Tis why I was a great soldier, but a terrible officer.”

“If I may ask, how many officers in the Vampire Army are you certain are illiterate?” asks Kerrigan.

“General McMahon and General Malone are somewhat literate. They’re none too good wi’ big words, but they can mos’ly hide it. General Callahan can read an’ write, an’ Brigadier General Murphy can hardly read, can’t spell, an’ can on’y sign his name about as good as me,” replies Mike.

“I am assuming you knew this, Jack.”

“Aye.”

“We had best hope that this information does not find its way to the newspapers.”

“Oh, an’ Jack, your son Liam who ye promoted straight to Captain, he can’t read or write a’ ‘tall.”

“Jack, you never told me anything about promoting him.”

“Slipped me mind.”

“I will not stay much longer. I must return home. My husband does not know that I am in Bridgeton. He thinks I am still at Crosspoint.”

“Ye never told him?”

“I wanted to surprise him.”

“Oh, so when I forget, ‘tis withholdin’ information, but when ye forget, ‘tis a surprise.”

“Jack, it is always delightful to see you so exultant.”

“Ach, well, bein’ home wi’ me friends an’ me darlin’ wife helps, ye ken I don’ like war. I doubt anyone does, but, then again, they happen, an’ I ken well what I’m doin’. I on’y wish I didn’t have to.”

“Faith, Jack, we all do. I’ll never let me boys go off, not while I’m alive, an’ certainly not after what happened wi’ their uncle. Me boys’ll not be dyin’ for any country.”

“I don’t expect them to. Me own sons, however,” Jack begins, looking at Jason who is playing under tables with Mike’s sons, “they may have to.”

“Musha, Jack, your own sons?”

“Especially me own sons. I can’t be seen to spare them, not this time an’ not ever. Unless I want to lose me life an’ any legacy I’d leave them, wealth, land, an’ Senate seat, can’t be seen sparin’ me sons an’ askin’ others to send theirs.”

“But, Jack, they’re nearly five an’ a baby.”

“I didn’t mean now. I mean a decade, decade an’ a half on.”

“Ye think this little border skirmish’ll last that long? I fear for me sons ‘cos the eldest’ll be nigh on the age they’ll take in half a decade.”

"Actually, ye can’t tell. The official version is any boy old enough to shave.”

“An’ the girls?”

“Old enough to bear children.”

“Faith, Jack, that’s a tender age to be takin’ ‘em for soldiers.”

“We can’t take the girls. They have to volunteer. The boys we can take if we need to.”

“How long has it been like this?”

“Ye ken well we took younger in the revolution. Boys o’ seven, eight, nine fightin’ for freedom. Young’uns runnin’ to join their fathers. Well, the law ‘bout takin’ childer was ignored. ‘Twas a law o’ the old kings. We didn’t change everythin’, jus’ the worst’ve it.”

“Faith, Jack. I’m glad I’m but a barman.”

“I’m glad I’m not. Me tendin’ bar’d be a nightmare. I’d never remember the orders or which glass is which or where the whiskey is in an unlit cellar, an’ there’d be no alcohol.”

“An’ I’d not be able t’stand an’ speak wi’out shitin’ meself wi’ terror.”

“This is when I say that I am quite inebriated enough for this evening. Michael, you may keep the change. I wish you the best of luck in your recovery. If there is anything I can do, please do let me know. My sister, it is always a pleasure. Jack, my utmost congratulations to you on your speech. I shall see you tomorrow morning. Goodnight to all of you,” Kerrigan says before tying her cloak around her shoulders and riding off into the winter night.

Jack and Lynn stay only until Mike passes out from the alcohol. Jack puts him to bed while Lynn herds his sons upstairs. Jack leaves their bar tab and a little extra on the table by Mike’s bed. Bridget, he knows, will not be back for several days at least. He saw on a report on his desk that she was arrested for her part in a brawl. Lynn brings Jason and John home in a cab while Jack rides Spectre home, stopping at a florist to buy roses for Lynn. He does not rush inside, instead lighting a fire, heating up a barrel of water, washing seven horses, brushing them, feeding them and the sheep, and cleaning out the stable. When he goes inside, he finds Jason in the hall.

“Da’, will ye tuck me in?”

“Aye, son,” Jack says picking Jason up easily and carrying him upstairs.

He sings his son a lullaby, the only lullaby he knows.

Dún do shúile a rún mo chroí
A chuid den tsaol is a ghrá liom.
Dún do shúile a rún mo chroí
Is gheobhair féirín amárach.

Once Jason is settled in, Jack goes to the drawing room. He finds his wife and brother sitting by the fire. Shane is sitting forward, his elbows on his knees, his fingertips resting together. He looks pained. Jack sits opposite him in silence. He pulls a pack of strike-anywhere matches and a silver cigar case out of his pocket and lays them on the end table next to him. He opens the case and pulls out a cigar and a match. He flicks the match head with his thumbnail and lights his cigar. He then fetches himself a whiskey from the bar in the drawing room and sits back in his chair, resting his right ankle across his left knee. His back is sore from cleaning the barn. As soon as he is comfortable, John begins to cry. Jack puts down his whiskey and carefully stands up, his cigar in his mouth. He slowly climbs the stairs and treads the long hallway to the nursery. He change his son’s diaper and sings him to sleep.

Dún do shúile a rún mo chroí
A chuid den tsaol is a ghrá liom.
Dún do shúile a rún mo chroí
Is gheobhair féirín amárach.

He washes his hands in the second floor bathroom and returns painfully to the drawing room. Lynn sips mint tea daintily. Shane has not moved. He stares motionlessly in Jack’s direction, though he is not looking at him. The grandfather clock chimes one. Jack stares back through bleary, drunken eyes seeing nothing. He just wishes the alcohol would work sooner on his back. Somewhere in his spine, a nasty little something reminds him that he is not as young as he used to be. He picks up his whiskey and empties it. Lynn insists that he remain seated and pours him another glass. She resumes drinking her tea. Jack smokes his cigar in silence. There is a crash outside. Jack jumps up suddenly on pure adrenaline, further upsetting his back. He sends Lynn upstairs to the entrance to his tunnel and takes the swords out of the full-sized coat of arms above the fire, tossing one to his brother. Shane catches it in his right hand without moving the rest of his body. Jason comes running downstairs.

“Da’, can I help?”

“No, son.”

“I never get to help.”

“’Tis too dangerous.”

“’Tisn’t fair!”

“Do what ye’re told.”

“No!”

“Jason, do what I say.”

“No!”

There is another loud crash. Jack looks to Shane who nods. Jason runs into the kitchen. Jack cannot run or bend down to catch him. His son returns with a hunting knife that Jack keeps on the highest shelf of the locked cabinet above the icebox. Shane puts Jason’s coat on him and gives Jack a hand with his before putting his own on. They go outside. Immediately, Jason slips away from his father, his uncle having gone into the pastures, and starts sneaking around the perimeter of the house. Jack goes into the stable and finds the sheep startled and bleating frantically. The horses are jumping and whinnying madly. He looks around in the stable for anything out of the ordinary. The riding tack is on the floor and some of the bottles near his still are broken. This angers him more than anything, as they were full bottles. Then he searches the loft and stalls despite the pain and counts the sheep. One of the ewes is missing. He finds footprints staggering along the path to the kitchen. He calms Missa, his mare, and mounts her without a saddle or reins. She hates being ridden bareback, but Spectre is exhausted; the carriage horses are not accustomed to being ridden; and Jack does not know the other horses’ ways well enough to ride them bareback at night. Jack looks by the door and finds the woodpile toppled and two sets of footprints, one belonging to a man, the other to a sheep, leading into the woods. Jack spurs Missa on, each of her galloping footsteps sending a jolt of pain through his back. Deep in the woods, he comes face to face with the perpetrator. He is a young Werewolf intent on killing Jack. Missa bolts when the man transforms, leaving Jack in a heap on the ground.

Shane hears the howl and transforms himself to go after it, but is forced to transform back in order to stop Jason from running into the woods. He brings the boy inside and opens the trapdoor under the sofa. Lynn comes out with John.

“Change o’ plans. I need help.”

“What of the children?”

“We can’t very well leave them here alone. Wrap John up in a blanket. Jason will have to walk. Jack has a lantern in the kitchen. Real sturdy. Iron. Should still have a candle in it. I’ll light it. Ye’ll have to carry it. I heard a howl. ‘Tis a Werewolf. He’ll be after killin’ Jack if we don’ get there soon. I can try to track them. Wi’ the snow comin’ down so hard, ‘twon’t be aisy. Lynn, take Jack’s rifle. I won’t be able to carry anythin’. Best take the sword, too. Jason, don’ drop that knife. Be a good boy an’ fetch Missa’s bridle and lead from the stable. Oh, an’ Lynn. If he comes after ye, don’ try an’ shoot. Drop the lantern, grab Jason, an’ run. Try an’ go left an’ right, not straight. Put as many trees ‘twixt yourself an’ him as ye can. Ready?”

Lynn nods and Shane lights her lantern. Once outside the kitchen, he turns into a very large wolf. He latches onto the scent of Jack’s cigar and follows it into the woods. He hears hooves and instantly turns back into a man to calm the horse. Once Missa is calm, he places Jason atop her, puts on her bridle and reins, and transforms slowly back so she is not spooked. He has been feeding her in Jack’s absence. She trusts him. Lynn and Jason follow Shane, but their pace is slow. In the darkness they hear limbs crashing, but they cannot tell a struggle from branches snapping under the weight of the snow. From somewhere deep inside the thick forest, they hear a gunshot. It has to be Jack’s pistol, but a Werewolf could easily take it in human form. At the first light of dawn, they find a Werewolf slumped against a tree. He is not bleeding due to the cold, but there is a bullet wound through his heart. Shane roots through the snow with his snout. Missa stomps. Jason keeps her back, lest she step on Jack. A couple inches down, the snow is red with blood. Shane upturns most of the clearing before finding Jack, pistol in hand. His wolf’s hearing tells him that Jack’s heart is still beating. Shane transforms into a man, again doing it slowly so as not to frighten the horse. He takes Jason off Missa and lays Jack face-down across her back. Jason buries himself in Lynn’s woolen skirt, being away from the horse’s warmth and relative safety. Shane takes the lantern from Lynn and leads Missa out of the woods. Jason holds tightly to Lynn’s hand. He stares ahead in silence. They emerge from the woods as dawn arrives, clear and cold. Jack slides slowly off the horse and toward Shane, knocking his brother off his feet as he falls into the snow and lands atop the iron lantern. Missa snorts at her reins having been jerked so sharply and stomps, crushing Jack’s right hand. He opens his eyes briefly and lets out a yelp of pain before drifting off again. Shane slides out from under Jack and leaves the broken lantern where it is, some of the shards digging painfully into his left forearm and hand. He puts Jack back on the horse and leads her to the stable, instructing Lynn to bring the boys inside.

Shane props Jack up against a wall and leads Missa back into her stall, draping a blanket over her. He feeds the horses and sheep and hears a thud at the back door. He opens it and the missing sheep runs past him and lays across Jack’s lap, bleating mournfully. Shane easily lifts the ewe off of Jack. She stands by his side while he lifts Jack to carry him into the house. Jack slips in and out of consciousness as he is carried like a child in his brother’s arms. To open the front door, Shane slings Jack over his shoulder. He carries him straight up to bed, firmly sends Jason to bed and finds Lynn feeding John.

“Will he…?”

“I hope not.”

“I’ve not seen hide nor hair of my nephew. It should be a good sign.”

“He needs a doctor.”

“I know of none here.”

“Me either.”

“If we wait, my sister will come. It may take all day.”

“Until then, I’ll do me best.”

“You could shave and go in his place.”

“An’ get meself arrested or killed? N’thanks.”

Lynn burps the baby and changes his diaper while speaking. “Someone needs to do something.”

“He’s safe in your room.”

“Shane?”

“Aye?”

“Why were you so quiet last night?”

“Worry. I’ve not heard from the twins or me old friends. I saw in the papers ye had an’ old sweetheart o’ mine was arrested. She don’ know where I am. I don’ figure Sean Bailey’d tell anyone unless they take him in.”

“He’s taken care of. You know three out of the five most powerful Banshees. We knew they would come after him or his family. They are living on one of our military bases. If it is attacked or breached, the Banshee Army will ally itself with the Vampires."

“An’ the twins?”

“Missing, from what we know. It is entirely possible they’ve barricaded themselves at home or are visiting your sister and niece or are roaming from bar to bar and brothel to brothel. We don’t know.”

Lynn rocks John to sleep. She puts him in his cradle and goes up to the third floor to her bedroom. Jack is laying in their bed and is completely unconscious. Shane comes in and builds a fire. He sits in the chair. Jack briefly slides back into consciousness long enough to say “I’m sorry, Lynn” and squeeze her hand. She strokes his hair gently.

Kerrigan comes to the door some time later. Shane answers and explains the situation. She does not know of a doctor either, as it is not her primary area of residence, and she mentions that Jack habitually avoids doctors on principle. She rushes out to ask Maire, who names one straightaway. Kerrigan returns with the doctor and mentions that he will find a Werewolf, a half-Banshee, half-Demon, and a very badly injured Vampire. Kerrigan then leaves for the Senate. The sheep will not leave Jack's side. Shane props Jack in his chair and removes his coat for the doctor. The doctor is surprised to see Lynn there and frightened by Shane, who is pacing somewhat aggressively near the window. He takes off his coat and opens his bag.

“Has this man ever seen a doctor?”

“Seen? Aye. Outside of a bar? While conscious? This close? Not since the day he were born.”

“How old is he?”

“Hundred eighty-five in December. First thirty-five on Earth.”

“Does he drink or smoke at all?”

Shane bursts out laughing, frightening the doctor into a corner. “D’ye ken who he is?”

“Looks familiar.”

“He’s Jack Shepherd.”

“The Senatorial General?”

“Aye.”

“No wonder you started laughing. What happened?”

“We was in the drawin’ room an’ we heard a crash. We went outside. He goes off to the stable an’ into the woods. Must’ve been a fight so he shoots the fellah what was after him. We found him later an’ brought him back. Horse stepped on his hand. He fell off, landed on me, I had the horse, pulled while fallin’, hurt her, an’ she stomped.”

“Were you there through the fight?”

“Nay.”

“Do you know what came after him?”

“Aye, a Werewolf.”

“Harrumph! Well, he doesn’t seem to be in very good shape.”

“What’re ye talkin’ ‘bout? He’s stronger’n I am!”

“That is not what I meant. His condition is poor. I can tell by looking at him, he’s lost a lot of blood, but the alcohol has, I think, ruined his liver. Does he take aspirin with alcohol?”

“Aye.”

“Hmm… another sign. Has he been injured recently?”

“Shot five times in the chest in early February.”

“I presume he got little bed rest.”

“Correct.”

“Could you take off his shirt for me?”

Shane complies reluctantly, because Jack never willingly removes his shirt for anyone. John starts crying, so Lynn leaves to look after Jack’s son. The doctor steps back in horror when he sees how thin Jack really is. “Could ye tell us what to do?”

“Feed him something. He’s severely underweight and most likely malnourished.”

“What about the blood? The cold?”

“Very well. This had to have hurt. There’s a gash in his right arm so deep you can see the bone. He’s lucky he wasn’t hit in the chest. The force behind this would’ve knocked straight through his ribs. His shoulders took most of the force. Oh no! He’s… he’s…”

“What, doctor?”

“He’s been bitten. Some of the flesh was torn clean off his back by claws, and he was bitten in the side. The worst for him, though, will be the left side of his face. It may never heal. There’s no telling yet, though, from the scars on his stomach, I don’t think the outlook is so wonderful. Don’t tell his wife. It’ll break her heart. You know that women are shallow. The most I can do now is clean the wounds out and bandage them. I do not often see Werewolf bites here, but the Lady warned me it would be a most unique case. I thought she was just being a silly woman in a fit of hysterics. They are so prone to them. Women, you know, are inherently stupid. They need us to lay down the law and tell them what’s right. There is nothing better for a woman than a good backhand across the mouth or a cane to the back when she’s insolent. Lay him on the bed. Keep him under a blanket. Moving might cause more bleeding, so until the cuts heal, keep him immobile as much as possible. Do not give him blood from a Vampire until this bottle is empty. It will prevent the spread of Lycanthropy via the bite. Have him take one every sixth hour. These are for pain. Tell him to take two every four hours. I’ve done all I can do. Oh, and tell him to keep a better hold on that wife of his.”

“Thankee.”

“Oh, and see that he eats something once in a while. She ought to be cooking more for him anyhow.”

“Will do.”

The doctor offhandedly mentions that Kerrigan had taken care of payment. The ewe, who had been asleep by her master’s feet by the fire and whom the doctor had mistaken for a very fluffy rug, gets up when Shane puts Jack into bed, frightening the doctor, who has never before seen a green sheep, but what she does next terrifies him. She runs after him and headbutts him in the posterior, sending him flying out the door.

“Get him off me!”

“Him?”

“The ram!”

“What ram?”

“The one… oww… hitting me in the… oww… ass!”

“That’s not a ram.”

“It has horns!”

“This may be difficult for ye, but horns do not a ram make. I thought a well-educated man o’ medicine such as yourself could tell the difference ‘twixt a boy an’ a girl. ‘S a ewe, an’ she don’ like ye.”

“Well get her off… aaagh! She bit me!”

“Ye really must be more forceful. Ye can’t let her push ye around like that.”

“Aaaagh!” shouts the doctor as he is pushed down a flight of stairs to the second floor. The sheep prances after him as he scrambles to the next staircase. Again, she is faster than he is and pushes him down, following him to the first floor and pushing him down the marble staircase into the foyer on the ground floor with Shane watching bemusedly a staircase behind all the while. The doctor struggles with his coat, bag, and bowler hat as he scrambles toward the front door. As soon as he has it open, she pushes him down the steps into the snow. Shane has a raucous laugh at the doctor’s expense, closes the door, and scratches the sheep behind the ears. He fixes her a bowl of oats and carrots and brings it upstairs to Jack’s room, saying how she is a good girl all the while.

When he returns upstairs, Jack is sitting up in bed in good spirits drinking whiskey and recounting his ordeal to Lynn. Shane smiles. The ewe runs over to Jack and jumps onto the bed, settling at his feet. Lynn cannot help but think about how difficult it will be to wash the sheep smell out of the sheets and blankets with Jack bedridden. Nevertheless, she pets the ewe gently and listens to her husband tell a tale of how the fight went, thinking meanwhile that he has no flair for dramatics. He is a military man and a politician, and she supposes that dramatics would do him little good.

Kerrigan stops by later, after the Senate meeting, and sits by Jack, who does not seem bothered at all by the bleak outlook or his injuries. His speech the previous day had a profound impact on several Senators, who wrote and sponsored bills to aid the poor in the districts once victimized by the last king. The votes early on had passed, but the margins drew narrower until a series of ties at the end of the day. Each side had a dozen Senators unwilling to budge. Their votes cast, it became up to Jack to cast the decisive vote on several different bills, including one drafted that morning by Kerrigan concerning the exemption from income tax of families whose primary earner of income was injured in battle or serving in the military away from home. Jack cannot sign with a broken right hand in a sling, and his signet ring must be cut off his badly-broken little finger once the swelling goes down sufficiently. He asks Shane to fetch green sealing wax and the seal from his office as well as a candle and a book. His matches are within his reach next to his cigars and whiskey on the bed table to his left. Upon receiving the items, he lays out the scrolls containing the propositions across the book and, aided by Lynn, who heats and spreads the wax for him, marks his affirmative vote upon the documents. He asks Kerrigan to pull back their troops nearby until he recovers from his injuries. She agrees to give the commands, ask for her and Jack's things to be shipped home, and tell Julius, Var, and Tem about the scaleback. The attacks have grown fewer and farther between, so the other Senatorial Generals will agree from a financial and political standpoint. Jack is, against all odds, doing well. Maire sent word via Kerrigan that Jason must return to boarding school the next day. Jack is saddened by the news and insists upon telling Jason himself. Jason does not cry. He merely sits with a stony face like his father. Kerrigan stays and prepares a simple dinner of stew and soda bread. Jack can eat most of it with painkillers, but his injured left jaw will not permit him to eat meat. They eat in Jack’s room in silence. Kerrigan takes care of the dishes and promises to visit again the next day. She kisses Jack’s uninjured cheek and bids them all goodnight.