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”He turned to the King, hoping for some support. “Your Majesty, surely you don’t think—”Cailan laughed. “Don’t look at me for help. I spent most of a year bored to tears in Redcliffe while people fought and died for me, all for the greater good, or so they tell me. You’ll get absolutely no sympathy from me!”Leliana giggled. “Poor man.” She sobered a little and turned to Nate earnestly. “Zevran is already in place anyway. We can’t stop now without the conspirators realising that we’re onto them. It’s too late, my Lord.”“Look,” Aedan said, “we’ve got this. But it won’t work without you. Zev knows what he’s doing, and I’ll be watching too. But we need you on board. Are you with me?”Nathaniel sighed reluctantly. “Not that I apparently have any choice in the matter ... but fine. Let’s go.”The plan, such as it was, was simple. The problem was that it put Zevran in danger, and the worry made Nate’s stomach ache. Not that the assassin was weak or incompetent – he was a professional; Nathaniel. Insects buzzed amongst the grime that made the golden air as thick as London smog. House-martins flew above our heads taking flies on the wing, and Kestrels hovered in the hot air searching for a homeless treat.It was nearly eight o’clock when our gang trudged wearily home, on the last exhausting day of the harvest. As we turned into the village Tommy said I could walk at the front, “Your Dad would be so proud son.”Women came out from their cottages offering glasses of ginger beer and cigarettes. There was talk of a bumper crop, the best since the old war.When Tommy and I got home, Mum waved a tiny Union-Jack; last seen on VE day. “The harvest is home,” she cried.The radio blasted out Glen Miller adding to the party mood. Tommy playfully smacked mum’s bum and she giggled. As always, my sisters ignored me; busy chatting with a young woman that I’d never met before; cascades of champagne hair curled against her lily-white shoulders. She caught me staring and winked.“Hello Dad!” she.
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