"Go to hell," I hissed. "This is my country, not yours." You can have it," he replied calmly, "starting tomorrow. We'll be gone then, and those two in...there with us." I think not," I told him, drawing my big blade.He glanced and it and yelled, "Corporal of the guard!"I grabbed his sword belt and pulled him to me, the point of my bayonet at his belly. "You can die right here," I told him as a Redcoat ran up, closely followed by two more. I was tempted to open him up, but instead stepped back and. He felt sick.“You OK?” she asked.“A bit too much wine in that last toast,” he scrambled to regain his composure like a boxer trying to make it to the bell after suffering a first round knockout blow. Feigning a cough he grabbed a glass of water sitting untouched next to his wine and gulped half of it down. “I’ll be OK.” He didn’t want to know the answer to the question he was about to pose. “Who is this lucky man?” Each word deadened his soul. He felt himself drift away.His reaction didn’t. More

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