“We can tear these linens into strips for bandages.” Lord knew, not a day passed in the sennight Aonghas’s sons had joined them that did not require the wrapping of one Scot or another. Having the lot of them bathed had almost ended in a nasty brawl. William drove them hard, and they fought back as hard, but her William had the better of them. Nice boys, whose ages ranged from fourteen to twenty. Old for training as squires but they threw themselves into the task. They slept in the barracks with the men, and worked as hard as any man-at-arms. Alice had a soft spot for Seamus. Turned fourteen summer past, at least as tall as his oldest brother, he brought her little tributes at the end of the day. A late sprig of heather he discovered while out riding, a pretty stone from the stream where he bathed. He missed his mother, he had whispered to her in confidence. He liked nothing more than sitting beside her and listening to the stories told in the hall after dinner.
