“6 Robert the Bruce – Douglas Castle, 1297 The road to Douglas stretched lazily before us. Dust billowed from beneath the hooves of our laggard horses. Late afternoon June sun seared into their dark hides. I looked at my squire, his round face puckered in thought. “Aye, Gerald?” “M’lord?” His bushy, dark red eyebrows danced above his round eyes in feigned innocence. “You think I was wrong, don’t you? Confess.” Blushing crimson, Gerald’s head sank with a shrug. He glanced over... his shoulder at the men trailing behind us. “Ahhh... not wrong, no.” The rest of my company, markedly diminished since we left Carlisle, swayed from boredom in their saddles. A scouring with hot water and soap would make their company more bearable. I had smelled sweeter swine than the lot of them. “Premature?” I prodded. “Foolish, then?”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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