FORT ERIE, CANADA, JUNE 1866
Jack surveyed the dozen men that Fraser had gathered for him. Weather-beaten and hard of face, they gazed back at him, unflinching. “My name is Windrush, Captain Jack Windrush, late of the 113th Foot and the Corps of Guides.”
“I read about you.” The speaker had an Irish accent and a deep white scar across his face. “You were cashiered for supporting the Fenians.”
Captain Ferguson pushed himself away from the wall against which he had been leaning. “Captain Windrush is working with me.”
The scarred man looked Jack up and down. “Are you the same Windrush who fought at Inkerman?”
“I am,” Jack said.
“Aye,” the scarred man nodded. “You and the 113th held the ridge until support came up.”
“That was us,” Jack agreed.
“I was in the 8th Hussars,” the man touched
