When we got to the seventeenth, a short par three, I hit a lousy shot that was made worse by the winds off the river. I was miles to the left of the g...een with a long pitch and run shot. I stubbed it, barely reaching the fringe.As I watched the others, I was seething. Of all the times to screw up. Milo was in no shape to help, as he faced a long, almost impossible putt that ended up six feet from the hole. No easy par for him. Dad and Henrik both made the green and both parred the hole. I. He called back to the figure descending the stairs behind him, ‘Was that a terrible ghost ye said?’ Laughter followed him down. Donal’ had laid his bedroll out beside the hearth. He sat cross-legged upon it as he supped his weak broth from a wooden bowl. The fire had settled down and gave a reddish tint to the walls. His companion sat similarly across from him, content to watch the flames. He studied her as he sipped. The red light from the fire didn’t seem to affect her appearance:. More

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