One week later
One week later“Coke? Captain Coke? Are you awake?”
The whisper entered his dream. It was not welcome.
He was in a bath, the one his sisters had drawn for him when he’d visited home after three months in the field. They’d teased him for the colour he’d turned the water. Murkier than a pond, they said. A habitation for frogs, they said. He told them he’d eaten frogs when he’d followed the prince to France, though he thought that strange, since he’d only gone to France after his sisters were dead. Still, he began casting around in the warm murk for anything living. Right now, a frog fried in a parsleyed butter would be the best thing he’d ever tasted. A raw one would do near as well.
“Wake, Captain. ’Tis time.”
Captain? Hadn’t he asked her to call him Will?
“Sarah,” he sa
