Topher Lydon

It was recognized, in the oh look there's a boy in rags hiding behind a wall... who is that. Ahh I recognize him that is Tom.

A large number of Scottish fought in Flanders for both the English and French depending on clan alliances as well as conscription or volunteering.

You would think so, but again, too much power slanted towards Scotland in this particular debate. Will probably change once the traditionalist conservative voters are shed... they are thinning rather alarmingly fast due to conservative policy of the past 14 out of 16 years. *ahem* Makes no comment about sheep voting for the wolf that eats them.

It's done here mostly for the highlands of Scotland that have pretty extreme winter and summer daylight exposure. Unfortunately that tiny minority it benefits holds the nation hostage. Our current government won't risk losing the Scottish vote.

Normally there is some kind of warning, nothing this year.

When I wrote this, there were 16 chapters in total, and the book was largely unfinished, as I said. It became the Falcon Banner... we are closing in on a point where thirty year older me starts writing this again to finish it, and I will do what I can to tie loose ends together and bring this story into something more finished. I released this as a curiosity, the shorter chapters are illustrative of my writing back then. For me it is very nostalgic to see how I used to write, and what has changed. This one, for example, is slow to get going, and very atmospheric... I was just out of my home, I was cold and alone, and that spilled into the writing. I was experiencing dis-associative episodes, thus Shem's interiosity. This was originally hand written on paper, with a mechanical pencil, pot of tea on the kitchen table, as it snowed in Halifax... Heron Cove Road, on top of a Pizza Hut... everything stank of Pizza which for someone who was hungry was not as fun as it sounds. But let me tell you, I spent NOTHING on heating I also had this wonderful thermos tea pot, and that was my winter... so yeah. I know I write a lot about snow in my stories, but I was shaped by it, my most powerful memories were of driving snow storms, and ice.

I will get into it. The Ikon is the cult of personality of the man that Rules Karn. Stalin-esque. Quasi religious figurehead. The Wolf of Karn is Volkov, with eyes on the premiership. The Commissariat are very dangerous, the Council of Commissars control the Duma, king makers. The Volksgaard are behind Volkov. It's murky here for a reason, because Shem, Radé and Brandon have no idea how all this works. Then there is the Red Banner, and the WITCH-HUNTER General who Shem is going to run head first into. Karn is not the singular monolith it appears, it is bound by one maxim, expand or die. And if it's army stops, the whole castle of sand could come crashing down. Karn does have a singular problem, they failed to cut the head off of Taïr, and the people of Taïr are beinning to realize their prince is free, defying the Ikon, and walking unseen in their midst. That's a powerful image to a beaten people. Radé is far too dangerous to the narrative Karn carefully constructs about it's unbeatable machine.

The question starts to become, will Anya betray them? She's starting to see that the IKON's army is nothing but a fairytale, and her father is not the man she thought he was.

This is a fact that Shem is coming to realize slowly. The last hold out for Taïr is no sanctuary.

Tom will figure it out

The liens on the house make that impossible.

Karn marches ever onwards, eyes to the South Radé is coming to realize that his entire world has shrunk to one boy with glasses holding him upright.

Eleven The Southern Advance The rail spur was no longer a desolate line through frozen fields; it had become the arterial vein of an invading army. As the four youths moved south, leaving the relative safety of the Misk River gorge behind them, the atmosphere changed from tense evasion to outright saturation. They had walked directly into the back of General Volkov’s main thrust—the support and supply chain for the most ruthless fighting force on the continent. The air was thic

Oh and now you know where ALL of Edward's Half-Pay was going. Through it all, he ensured his mother's needs ahead of his own.

the clocks went back, I didn't notice... here we are three days later all my clocks are showing different times and I don't know up from down. :: Grumbles:: I will adjust, apologies for the late chapter Good Morning.

The early morning in Covent Garden was a rare, fragile hour of truce. The chaotic, drunken debauchery of the night had finally bled away into the gutters, and the frantic, shouting commerce of the vegetable markets had not yet reached its deafening zenith. Inside the heavily fortified, crimson-draped townhouse, the syndicate was moving through the slow, exhausted rituals of recovery. In the grand parlor, Edward Ashworth sat behind a heavy mahogany desk, nursing a cup of black coffee laced

Brendan will find a way to distract her.

Edward is a Lord unto his own right as a courtesy title. Much like the heir of the Duke of Norfolk is referred to as Lord Arundel. It is not directly from his father, his father was not a Lord. Said title is from Edward's mother's side, you will understand more as the story flows out. Some families are complex, and titles have strange dispensations depending on where they originate. Lord Edward Ashworth, bt. is a baronet unto his own right from his father, styled Lord as a courtesy due to a Great-Grandfather of note with no other issue remaining, and due to royal decree. (Not that said Great-Grandfather has any idea who Edward is, beyond a name on a piece of paper... but then said grandfather doesn't even know where he is most days... or even what day it is.)

There is no way little Tom is going to permit that, he bites and Percy belongs to him.

Not really, reading was not a requirement to becoming a Midshipman. It certainly helped, and Percy's going to be on a mission by the next book. Lieutenants yes, they had an examination and were expected to compose reports, but it is years until Tom is 18 and able to sit those exams. Something I liked about the film Master and Commander, it showed how Captains would teach Midshipmen as part of their duties in Mathematics and Reading/Writing usually in an afternoon aboard ship

Hums Under A Bridge.

Ten The Architect of Logic They left the shelter of the farmhouse before dawn, the blizzard having retreated into a cold, dense fog that clung to the frozen fields. The air was still lethally frigid, but the cessation of the wind made the silence absolute, broken only by the muffled crunch of their boots on the packed snow. Shem and Radé walked close together, the Prince’s arm occasionally brushing Shem’s, a gesture that was now simply assumed for shared warmth. Shem, despite t

Blackwood knows Edward belongs out there. And leveraging Tom (the hidden son) is a wonderful way for him to force Edward off of the half-pay list. The connection between Blackwood and Edward's mother is not explained here, but SOMETHING can be implied through his "Understanding" of Edward's situation with a 'hidden' son.

Tom being Tom.

The front door of the Covent Garden house groaned open, the heavy oak protesting on its newly oiled hinges, letting in the sharp, wet roar of the London street before snapping shut with a definitive, echoing click that sealed the chaos outside. Jonas Moore stepped into the dim, candle-lit foyer, bringing the biting chill of the April drizzle with him. He shook the rain from his broad shoulders like a massive hound, shrugging off his heavy, waterlogged wool coat and draping it over a high-b