MacKim heard the quick patter of feet on deck, listened to the steady creak of Martha, and left the tween decks to check his men. They lay in various corners of the vessel, some silent, others grunting or snoring in their sleep. MacRae was talking in his native Gaelic, Parnell snoring like a bull, Oxford curled in a foetal ball, Danskin holding a letter to his sweetheart, but all present and correct.
MarthaMacKim nodded, satisfied that his men were safe. Only a few weeks ago, they had all been quartered in Quebec, secure in the knowledge that they had conquered Canada and hoping their war was over. After years of hard campaigning, MacKim’s parent regiment, the 78th Highlanders, had settled into the Canadian city, while Kennedy’s Rangers had engaged in routine patrolling and picket work.
