FicWad

General Ronan O’Casey arrives at precisely four o’clock for tea. Jack is still missing, and Kerrigan is beginning to become concerned. Ronan is very close to Kerrigan because Ronan’s mother died when he was very young, and his father never remarried. It was early in the Revolution; he was the youngest child in a very large family; and his father was a Revolutionary General along with Ardal Malone, Niall Mór Ó Seachnsaigh, and countless others over the years who did not survive. Ronan grew up watching his father drawing battle plans, often in the dust on the little furniture they had or in the dirt outside. Saxen O’Casey is a farrier by trade, and, without the income his wife once made cleaning houses, he had trouble feeding his many children. Saxen O’Casey, though a proud warrior, was willing to accept help, for he refused to sell his daughters into prostitution, abandon or kill his children, or steal from his fellow destitute to survive, all of which are common methods of relieving debt or financial burdens in Bridgeton. One night, when Ronan was only a toddler, his mother was brutally raped and beaten to death by ten of the King’s soldiers as her children watched, and several of her sons were beaten and two of her daughters raped. A few years later, a brutal fire ripped through their home in an attempt to kill the children to punish Saxen for his treasons against the king. The fire nearly drove him from his home and his wife’s grave. The stone cottage and its earthen floor survived, but the thatching and the furniture were destroyed. Jack, the Cranes, John Murphy, Mick McMahon, Brian Sparrow, some of the Vaughans, the Kings, some of the O’Sheas, Ahern Flannigan, Eamon and Ardal Malone, and Keegan Callahan rebuilt the roof in a single day. Kerrigan brought food, blankets, toys, and clothing for the family that evening. Having had many children of her own, Kerrigan quickly and easily found clothing her own children had once worn that fit the O’Caseys, but she insisted upon buying Saxen a new suit, an expense he thought unnecessary, though he still has the suit.

Ronan grew up calling Kerrigan “Ma’ Kerrigan” because she was like a second mother to him and his many siblings, always looking out for the O’Casey children as if they were her own, seeing that they had anything they might need, including higher education, which their father never could have provided for them, and new wedding gowns for the girls, though girls in Bridgeton often wear the same wedding dress as their mother and grandmother. Their mother’s wedding dress was destroyed in the fire, and Kerrigan’s tiny gowns, designed for her hourglass shape and short stature, would never fit the fairly tall, slight O’Casey women. Though Ronan grew up to become a General, he still has a great reverence for Kerrigan, and, no matter how busy he is when he sees her, he makes a point of joking with her and accepting anything she might offer to him.

“Will he be here?” asks Ronan, seeking Jack.

“I cannot tell you that Ronan, for I do not know. He left during the night, and he left no indication as to his destination.”

Although the cabin door is open, a strange man knocks on the door frame. Kerrigan bids him enter, and General O’Casey’s hand moves to his weapon instinctually, lest the intruder wish to pose a hazard to Kerrigan. Liam, who recognizes the man as the horse breeder, informs Kerrigan of the man’s intentions. She offers him tea and biscuits and her chair while she goes out to the stable and harnesses Spectre for the breeder. She writes down his address for Jack and hands Spectre’s reins to the man, who then leaves.

“I heard ye gave your da’ a Bridgeton Salute, Captain.”

“How-how’d ye hear that, General?”

“Colonel Callahan told his da’, an’ General Callahan told me.”

“I woke up to Miss Kerrigan’s shoutin’ an’ I was out o’ me head wi’ the drink. I meant nothin’ by it.”

“Can’t hold your liquor, Captain?”

“Not her home-brew.”

“No man can, Liam. That is why I made it,” says Kerrigan with a slight note of satisfaction.

The postman arrives with two letters for Jack and a package for Kerrigan. She does not open her mail in front of her guests, for she knows what it will likely contain, as the sender is identified as her husband. She is neither surprised nor impressed. In fact, she wishes he sent nothing at all.

“Ma’ Kerrigan, could I try that home-brew o’ yours?”

“It is not for children, Ronan,” she replies playfully.

“’M not a child,” he pouts, continuing her joke.

“Perhaps when you are older, Ronan,” Kerrigan says sternly, but jokingly, wagging her finger as a mother might.

“A wee bit? Just a sip? Just to try?” he begs with a childish whine.

“Not today, pumpkin. Ma’ Kerrigan doesn’t want to get in trouble with your daddy.”

“Aww…but-but-but ye promised.”

“No.”

“But-but-”

“No buts, mister, or I will put you to bed immediately with no dinner.”

“’Tisn’t fair!”

Kerrigan and Ronan suddenly burst out laughing. While they are enjoying their private joke, Colonel Callahan arrives. When Kerrigan and Ronan are finished, he politely salutes each of them, and, after receiving two salutes in return, he turns to Liam.

“Captain, we should be ready for combat in a week. I expect that you will be there. Doctor Sparrow is staying in the spare bed in your tent until Boland returns.”

“Aye, sor.”

“Ma’am. Have you seen either me father or Senatorial General Shepherd?”

“I have not, Owen. Would you like tea and biscuits?”

“Aye, ma’am.”

Owen sits on the bed next to Liam, and Keegan, Owen’s father, is next to appear asking for Jack. Father and son greet each other warmly and begin to discuss family business.

“I’m just back from Bridgeton. I went to see the stray your mother took in.”

“The Werewolf?”

“Aye.”

“How is he?”

“Decent enough fellow. Bit of a lightweight when it comes to poitín. He’s a hard enough worker. He’s gone ‘afore dawn. Your ma’ meets him wi’ his breakfast an’ lunch before he leaves like she did for me ‘afore the war started. She goes back to bed after he leaves. He comes home after dinner, an’ she fixes him sommat. He plays wi’ your brothers an’ helps your ma’ put ‘em to bed. He chops the firewood. He offered to pay her rent as soon as he got a job. He’s a carpenter. Fixed near everythin’ in the house I couldn’t already. On’y the bedroom door he left. He said ‘twasn’t his place.”

“An’ when’ll I get me new Private?”

“Three days.”

“Did ma’ send poitín?”

“No. She said not ‘til Conan cam share it.”

“Fair enough, so.”

“By the way, son, when’ll your unit be ready for combat?”

“A week, I think. By then, the last o’ the transfers an’ new men should be here. I’ll be short a few men, but it should be fine. I’ve been tellin’ the ones what wandered a week, anyhow.”

“Right, so.”

“Keegan, do have some tea,” says Kerrigan gently.

“Thankee, ma’am.”

Kerrigan spots another of Jack’s generals at the door and offers him tea, which he politely accepts. The small cabin is crowded with Jack, Liam, and Kerrigan, but the large group looking for Jack makes it nearly impossible to move, though Kerrigan drifts seemingly effortlessly between the men. Eamon Malone finds himself sitting on Jack’s bed eating biscuits and jam rather than getting Jack’s signature on the weekly report of casualties and expenses. Not long after Eamon’s arrival, Jack’s General and old friend Mick McMahon arrives as well. He is tall, raven-haired, blue-eyed, and muscular. His turquoise eyes glow with impatience, and he takes a swig from a flask that he never leaves empty or at home, lest its contents be of use. When he learns of Jack’s absence, he swears loudly and throws his flask across the cabin, spilling gin down the wall and denting the wooden panel. Mick storms off after snatching his flask from Liam. Liam nurses his wrist, which Mick injured in grabbing the flask. Not long after, Aiden Flannigan, the last of Jack’s generals, arrives. Aiden is a very small man with ginger hair and green eyes. His father was an original member of the Thirteenth, and his mother was a Leprechaun, slave to a Banshee family, freed upon marriage. Aiden has a fiery temper, but he knows better than to disrespect Kerrigan, and he has an enormous amount of self-control. He tells Kerrigan where he is staying and asks her to send Jack or a messenger to him.

Kerrigan brings Liam outside and beckons him to bend down so that she may speak softly, which he does. She hands him a small, black, leather coin purse full of gold; saddles Pyro, lowering the stirrups to accommodate Liam’s long legs; and instructs him to ride around Crosspoint and ask for Jack in taverns, bordellos, and, if necessary, opium dens. She instructs him not to end up missing himself, and she tells him to keep the change once he has found Jack.

Liam mounts Kerrigan’s horse charged with the monument us task of finding Jack in a city of around a hundred thousand plus at least six times that in military personnel in the surrounding area with only two of the five armies stationed there. The Eastern and Northern Armies have moved farther north along the border, and the Central Army is guarding along the other borders and in the government buildings. Liam, being but a mere Captain, ought not to know about the other armies’ movements, but, being Jack’s son, he hears more than he ought. He begins his monumental quest in the nearby pubs but finds nothing. He heads to the poorest parts of town first. Prostitution and drugs are legal throughout Hell, with varying local laws regarding distribution permits and sale of drugs, minimum age and licensing of prostitutes, zoning, and taxation, so Liam tries the red light district hoping that someone there might have seen Jack, but, as he expected, he has little luck. Jack does not belong to any social clubs, and he has few local personal friends, certainly nobody of means who might provide him shelter for any extended period.

Liam checks with local hospitals and doctors and every police station in Crosspoint. It is getting dark, and Liam is lost and hungry. He stumbles into The Gray Bard and has a mincemeat pie and ale for dinner. After dinner he resumes his search without luck. Liam tries gambling houses and more taverns, still without luck. He is on the other side of Crosspoint, lost, tired, and soaking wet from rain showers, when he decides to turn back. In despair for disappointing Kerrigan, Liam stops in one last tavern close to the cottage. A patron, having just arrived from a brothel, tells him to ask for a girl called Molly at a brothel called The Full Moon. He tells Liam that Molly had been bragging about seeing such a famous man as Jack on the street the previous night. Liam buys him a round to thank him and makes his way to the brothel. The madam offers him another girl, but, giving her his true reason for being there, he insists upon seeing Molly, who is with a customer, so he waits for nearly an hour in the bar downstairs before the madam shows him to Molly’s room. Molly tells Liam that she saw Jack entering an opium den down the street. Liam thanks her by leaving a very generous tip and leaves.

The clock at a nearby church strikes midnight as Liam arrives at the opium den. He states his intention upon entering, and, though the owner is not happy about it, he shows Liam the birthing where Jack is situated. Liam uses no gentility in dragging his father off of the top bunk and marching him back to the cabin, insisting that Jack walk while he rides Pyro. When they arrive, the cabin is empty of its former guests, leaving only Kerrigan, who is reading a letter from one of her many sons, which was packaged with the gift her husband sent to her. She thanks Liam warmly and offers him and Jack dinner. Jack is not hungry, despite not having eaten all day, but Liam never refuses free food, so he accepts Kerrigan’s offer graciously.

“Liam, we shall make a gentleman out of you!” Kerrigan exclaims delightedly when, for the first time, Liam sits up straight and eats his hare slowly using a knife.

“I’m goin’ back tomorrow. I’m sorry, ma’am, but me unit needs me.”

“It is quite understandable, Liam.”

“I’ll be after missin’ your cookin’ ma’am.”

“You are free to come here for dinner any time you wish.”

“Thankee, ma’am.”

“Stop that, please. You are just like your father. Call me Kerrigan. Even my Generals do not call me, ‘ma’am.’”

“I’m truly sorry. ‘Tis a force of habit.”

“You will become accustomed with time, Liam.”

Jack says nothing. He is too drugged to stand unassisted or to notice the pain from having been dragged around Crosspoint by Liam, who took the longest route of which he could conceive without getting lost to return to the cabin. Jack is not sentient enough to remove his rain-soaked clothing himself. Kerrigan hands Liam Jack’s spare nightshirt and tells him to put his wet clothing by the fire. He is a somewhat shy about changing in front of Kerrigan, but he manages with no trouble with his back turned, noticing that her attention is focused on his father. She makes tea for the men and helps Jack by feeding his to him one spoonful at a time. Though she makes her bed in Jack’s trunk for a final night, she lays with him stroking his hair for a considerable amount of time while Liam tosses and turns. Kerrigan extinguishes the fire once Jack is asleep and climbs into the trunk.

Around four in the morning, Liam wakes and becomes restless. He again tosses and turns and eventually gets out of bed to pace and stand by the window and stare into the pale moonlight and the reflections off of the rain-soaked streets. Kerrigan, who is a very light sleeper, wakes to his pacing but does not stir until he turns away from the window and sees her eyes open. The moonlight gives an ethereal shimmer to Liam’s vibrant hair. Kerrigan climbs gracefully out of the box and drapes a dark shawl around her delicate shoulders. Liam shivers, so she wraps him in a quilt ad puts her arms around his waist.

“Ye seem so…so…so attached to me father, ma’am.”

“I am fond of him, for he is a dear friend of mine.”

“What’s he ever done for ye?”

“He has saved my life on more than one occasion. He is also a wonderful companion.”

“I jus’…he seems so helpless. I’ve always heard about the daring deeds of Jack Shepherd, an’ I thought he’d be more…well…more capable, stronger, more energetic…more somethin’, I don’ quite know what.”

“He is not himself, I am afraid. Since Maire left, he has not been well. I thought Lynn might save him, but then this awful war broke out. He needs a woman, and he needs her in ways that I, as a married woman, cannot provide for him. Much as he loves to fight, he needs someone to give him a reason to fight. He is an old soldier, and he is fighting the war of a younger generation. This is not the Revolution, and he is no longer a young idealist. The cause alone is not enough for him anymore.”

“National security ain’t enough?”

“You are a good soldier. You believe what your superiors tell you. There are other ways to ensure national security without going to war. Jack was hoping we would solve the border issues diplomatically. While combat pay is great for you, and, in fact, every soldier from Bridgeton, your father hates to see young boys die if he feels it could have been prevented. He is a father and a Senator, and, to him, every life lost is personal. It means he failed to do everything he could have in order to prevent bloodshed.”

“I found him out o’ his mind in an opium den wi’ no guard an’ no weapons. He was completely vulnerable. Is he tryin’ to get himself killed?”

“I doubt it, though the opium worries me greatly. I myself have taken it for pain, as have we all, but he is being obsessive. Your father is prone to addiction and excess. That is why I once asked you if you ever experienced Delirium Tremens. I needed to know how much like him you were before I let you drink my home-brew because I know how dangerous Delirium Tremens can become. I once lost a dear friend to Delirium Tremens. I never told your father this, as the man died before your father was born, but every time I see Jack go through his fits, I remember a man named Ashem.”

“Wasn’t Ashem an Angel?”

“He was. He was sent as an envoy to the Unseelie Court when he was very young.”

“The Unseelie Court?”

“The Unseelie Court is the royal household of a group of evil fairies. Anyhow, he was an envoy to the Unseelie Court, and, in the time he spent there, he was given alcohol. Angels have no natural tolerance for alcohol, as there is no such thing in Heaven, and, obviously, not having been brought up around people who drink, he did not know how to pace himself. Angels are allowed to drink, but not in Heaven. By the time he was recalled to the Silver City, he was an alcoholic. He was cast out of Heaven for his addiction, and he wandered for many years. He had no desire to settle among the Unseelie Court, so he found his way to Hell after a long and tiring journey. Most Fallen Angels become slaves to Vampires or Demons.”

“What do they look like?”

“You probably have never seen one, as they are relatively few in number, and there is not a single Fallen Angel living in District Thirteen. Many Vampires have no slaves, since they are not wealthy. Many wealthy Vampires own other Vampires as slaves, since they are much cheaper, but Fallen Angels are extremely beautiful, so they are highly prized as slaves. There are a lot in District Five in the Vampire District or in Court City in Capital County in the Demon Lands. Some even work as prostitutes there, both male and female. When he arrived here, he was one such Fallen Angel. This was around the time the Vikings settled Dublin, if you would believe it.”

“Jaysus…”

“Anyhow, I was walking around the merchant’s quarter in Court City with Morietur, and I saw Ashem there. I met him only once before on a visit to the Unseelie Court, so you can imagine my surprise at seeing him again. I remembered him as an honest man, after all, he was an Angel, so I begged Morietur to take him under his guidance for a time. He stayed with us for a few years’ time and eventually got a job as a fine artist. Many of his sculptures, reliefs, and fountains adorn the plazas and homes of Court City. We own two, one of myself and one of Morietur.”

“Even I have heard of him. Isn’t he the Fallen Angel carved on the right side of the arch above the Vampire Senate House’s main entrance?”

“He is, though even white marble does him little justice. The poor thing was tormented, though. He was beautiful and fragile, almost childlike. An artist often lives with the family who commissions his work while he completes it, sleeping amongst their household, wearing clothing given by them, and eating at their table. He always had enough saved between commissions that he would drink, but he was carving a huge bas-relief for their front hall, and he ran out of money one day. He was hospitalized suffering from Delirium Tremens, and I came to his side as soon as I heard. When I got there, it was too late. Only blood could have saved him, and finding a Fallen Angel to give it to him would have taken more time than he had. I watched him die. I personally saw to his funeral. He died a hundred years before your father was born, but seeing your father so out of control makes me think of Ashem, lying dead on a slab of stone which he could have made into a great work of art. He rests in the public cemetery in Court City, his gravestone donated by one of his former students.”

“D’ye think tellin’ me father that’d change him any? He respects ye more’n anyone.”

“It would not. Your father is merely playing his part, but I have reason to question his judgment. Fortunately, he has competent Generals who will not let him order something irrational.”

“D’ye think I’ll-”

“You want to know if I think you will turn into your father. I do not. You have your own ghosts, I am sure, but the ghosts of your past are not the ghosts of his past, though some of them are, undoubtedly similar. Perhaps one day you may bear the burden of responsibility to a great scale, but you are not your father. You have not ruined yourself yet, so I doubt you ever will. You are more successful than he is, though he has made money and you have not, because you are still the same Liam you have always been. Your father has given up much of what he once was in order to gain monetary success. He has never had much self-control, and money only makes it easier for him to destroy himself. I can send you into the city with a bag of gold and tell you to find someone, and you will come back, likely having found that person. I have never been able to do that with your father.”

“Thankee.”

“You are most welcome, Liam. Please get some rest.”

“An’ what about yourself?”

“Pardon?”

“Ye’re chill to the bone. Come here.”

“Liam, that would not be proper.”

“I’ve never cared much for propriety, ma’am, jus’ practicality. Ye’re freezin’, an’ ye’re a lady. I’m a man, an’ I ought to do right by ye.”

“Are you suggesting what I think you are suggesting?”

“Faith, no! Ye’re a lovely woman, ma’am, but ye’re married. For me, that makes ye officially off-limits. Ye’re also rich an’ titled, an’ I’m but a penniless army Captain. I’m not good enough for the likes o’ ye. I jus’ hate seein’ a lady sleep in a box on the floor on me own account.”

“You are quite respectful. You have a certain charm and persuasiveness about you. You doubtlessly get that from your father, but either your mother or experience gave you the gentility and control he lacks. Perhaps my sister was correct in saying that I am as cold and distant as ice with a temper as hot as fire, but she has the passion of a thousand suns with a demeanor as cool as the winter wind. Her and I are opposites, bitter rivals to the end, but family is family, Liam. Now that you have one, do not ever forget that blood is thicker than water.”

“I shan’t. Come here, ma’am. Ye’ll feel better.”

“Alright, Liam, I shall sleep beside you tonight, but promise me that you shall not lay a hand upon me inappropriately or ask favors of me which you know that I am not at liberty to give.”

“I promise, ma’am.”

Liam draws Kerrigan into his arms, and she whispers, “Thank you, Liam. For the first time tonight, I shall be foremost practical and lay propriety to the side somewhat.”

“Ye’re welcome, ma’am. Ye take such good care o’ me father, an’ ye’ve been very kind to me since I’ve met ye. ‘Tis time I did somethin’ in return, an’, though ‘tis but a small gesture, ‘tis what I have to give ye.”

“It is perfect.”

Kerrigan first hangs her shawl on a peg by the bed, then wraps herself in a blanket for propriety’s sake, unable to forget propriety completely, even for one night, before climbing into bed next to Liam. He draws her close to him in an effort to keep her warm, and the both fall asleep shortly, Liam from exhaustion and Kerrigan thinking of her husband in Court City.

In the morning, Jack, who has eaten nothing since dinner the night he disappeared, is the first to wake for once. He looks over at Liam and, to his surprise, finds Kerrigan in Liam’s arms. He does not disturb them, but he ventures out just after dawn to buy liquor. His return wakes Liam, who gently removes his arms from around Kerrigan, for she rarely sleeps late without reason. Jack sits on the end of his bed drinking whiskey and shaking, his winter uniform coat around his shoulders. Unlike Kerrigan, who is always cold to the touch, Jack is shaking and shivering because the opium is leaving his system. Jack offers Liam the bottle, but Liam declines. He is afraid that, if he is not careful, he will find himself being dragged out of an opium den one day. He has invited many comparisons to Jack from his superiors, to some extent because of the physical similarities between them. None of them meant ill by their comparisons, but Liam is predisposed to worry, a trait he feels he must have inherited from his mother. He, unlike Jack, does not live in the moment. He lives to hope for something better, and his hope has kept him alive sleeping on the streets in the winter with no blanket, coat, or boots and no food.

“Ye’re better’n me, boy,” Jack says.

“What d’ye mean?”

“I’ve never talked her into bed. I’ve crawled in wi’ her when she was cold an’ hurt, but I was fully dressed. Ye got her into bed in nothin’ but me nightshirt. So tell me, did ye get any?”

“Faith, no!”

“She’s too proper for that sort o’ thing, I suppose. So how’d ye get her there without a fight? Don’ lie an’ say ye put her there. I’d’ve woken to your screams if ye tried that.”

Jack shows Liam the scars on his stomach from when he tried to force himself on Kerrigan, causing Liam to cringe and ask, “She did that?”

“Aye, she did. Right after I asked her to go to bed wi’ me an’ swept her up like I did every other girl. Thing is, they all liked that. Not her. So, how’d ye do it?”

“I told her honestly that I had no intention of betraying her honor.”

“Ye did, though, didn’t ye?”

“No.”

“Ye didn’t even think’ve it?”

“No.”

“She’s a beautiful woman, an’ ye’ve not had it in months, though.”

“I’ve more self-control than that, an’, for the record, I’ve not had any in over a year since I was McAlpine’s best apprentice…how’d ye know that?”

“’Tis a mite obvious. Also, ye know ‘tisn’t allowed to bring a girl to camp, which wasn’t me idea, by the way. We did it all the time in the Revolution. ’Tis the fault of Senatorial General Invernus, a real prick he is, too. An’ ye’ve not said a word about a girl in town here, nor been missin’ from your unit to see one. Ye need a girl, Liam.”

“I gave up tryin’.”

“But ye’re an officer. That has to count for somethin’. I’ve read the disciplinary reports o’ your tent mates. ‘Cept for O’Dowd, who’s married, the others, includin’ Reilly, rest his soul, all got theirs.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“D’ye like men or somethin’?”

“Jaysus, no! ‘Tisn’t anythin’ like that. I’ve not the money for a girl.”

“Ye’re an officer. Ladies love that.”

“I’ve not a single medal for valor. They see that, an’ they think I run an’ hide an’ keep meself alive, an’ they expect an officer to have money for presents for them. I don’t.”

“What about a whore?”

“I’ve not even enough for that.”

“Have ye got two gold.”

“Aye…”

“Ye have enough for Mike’s wife.”

“Doctor Sparrow’s sister? Are ye crazy?”

“Don’t like blondes?”

“’Tisn’t that…I jus’…I don’t like the woman.”

“Since when does ‘like’ have anythin’ to do wi’ sleepin’ wi’ a whore?”

“Since I’m sharin’ a tent wi’ her brother, an’ since I used to drink at Mike’s a lot when I was in Bridgeton, an’ since I know how many men she has a night.”

“I’ll find ye a pretty little whore. I’ll pay for ye.”

“No.”

“Ah, come on. No man should go this long without any.”

“I said no. I mean no. I’m not like ye. I’d rather wait ‘til I do have the money an’ find a girl for meself. Not a whore, either. A girl I’d care about.”

“But ye’ll not even be paid ‘til-”

“I ken. I can wait.”

“Ye’re either the most patient man I’ve ever met or the biggest liar.”

“I’ve been there. I’ve done that. I’ve had enough o’ whores an’ their pretty little lies.”

“It’ll be hard, but I’ll find ye a new one. A young one. A virgin. Ye’ll be her first.”

“No!” Liam shouts, not realizing how loud the argument has become.

Kerrigan jolts awake and asks, “What are the two of you arguing about?”

“Whores,” admits Liam. “He seems to think I need one.”

“Jack, leave Liam alone.”

“Aye, ma’am,” replies Jack sullenly.

“What time is it?”

“Almost nine,” answers Liam.

“I am terribly sorry. The two of you must be starving. I shall remedy this at once.”

Kerrigan rises, opens her trunk, selects a dress, goes out to the alley, washes, and dresses very quickly, returns, dons an apron, and immediately begins to cook applesauce. Once she has finished that, she begins to cook pancakes. She has only one pancake herself, but when Jack and Liam have eaten their fill she has a lot of batter left. Liam dresses while she cooks, thanks her and Jack for their kindness and hospitality, and announces that he is returning to his unit. Kerrigan insists he take the leftover pancakes and applesauce with him for his tent mates. Liam walks back to find everyone still asleep upon his arrival. He puts the basked Kerrigan gave him, with the tin of applesauce and the pancakes wrapped into neat paper packets, on his bed and walks over to Fitzmaurice’s bunk. He gently taps Billy’s shoulder, but Billy doesn’t wake.

Liam whispers, “Billy, wake yourself. I’ve breakfast sent from Senatorial General Sheehan herself.”

Billy wakes laughing, and a second Billy crawls out from under the bunk. When Liam asks what is so funny, the second Billy says, “He’s Brendan. I’m Billy.”

“When did ye cut off all your hair?”

“Last night, an’ ‘tisn’t all of it.”

“I have breakfast, anyhow. Help me wake Jimmy an’ Michael.”

“They’re awake. We knew ye was comin’, an’ we couldn’t resist, Liam. Terrible sorry. What’d ye bring?”

“Pancakes.”