" Get on with it, you peacock," growled Angus, "Who do we fight?"The crier looked from his parchment and licked his lips nervously. It was obvious tha... the weapons master was not happy. He rubbed his sweating palms against his good linen pants and called out in a plain voice."Tomorrow we march to war against Fitzgerald over a matter of honour." Right then, go back to our good lord and tell him that his message had been delivered." Yes Sir," The crier said and moved off a little to fast to be. He could faintly here his mother humming while she sewed in her bedroom, and he could read the tiny address on a piece of mail from across the room. He could smell his sister's hairspray hanging in the air. Why she was putting on hairspray on a Sunday evening was beyond him.He had grown taller and put on some muscle. He wondered if he was stronger. He went to the garage where his weight set was. His max bench press had been two hundred pounds. Cameron threw on one sixty five to warm up. He. More

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