Jack wasn"t aware of much over the next days. There were periods of light and periods of darkness. There was a soft voice in the corner and strong arms around him. There was heat, and there was more heat and then a welcome coolness that he didn"t wish. He struggled against it, and a familiar voice was speaking. "Don"t be such a baby, Jack Baird Windrush," and the words were known to him from a very long time ago, and he relaxed and let people do things to him.
There was thunder outside, yet he knew it wasn"t thunder, and lightning he knew was not lightning, and then the acrid smell of powder smoke was in his nostrils together with the sickly-sweet reek of blood.
"Jack Baird Windrush." The words whispered through the night. "Do your duty, Jack Baird Windrush." When the words faded, a bear
