8
“Bring him in here,” General Murray said, as Kennedy, Parnell, and MacKim dragged in the prisoner. Captain Lindsay already stood beside Murray, gently sipping at a glass of claret.
Even after the surgeons had patched him up, the Abenaki was a sorry sight. Weak from loss of blood, and with a bandage over his chest and left arm, he drew himself to an impressive height and glared at the British.
“Well, my fine fellow,” Murray said. “It seems that the fortunes of war have not favoured you.” He waited for Kennedy to translate as MacKim and Parnell stood at attention, bayonetted muskets ready if the prisoner tried to escape or attack the general.
The warrior said nothing, staring at Murray in an open challenge.
“With your permission, sir, may I speak to him?”
“Please do, Lieutenant.” Mur
