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While he ate the chicken andchips with lashings of tomato sauce and several bottles of beer, he made me eata bowl of cat food. That was my normal food as his slave girl. I had got usedto eating always on my knees with my hands held behind my back so I managed toeat without toppling over. Because it was Christmas he gave me some of hisbones and made me lick the plate clean when he had finished. I was very thirstyand watching him drink all the beer was pure torture for me. Eventually,because it was a special day, he spat a mouthful of wine in my mouth. ?That?sfor being a good little slave slut,? he said as he continued to drink the wineall to himself. ?I?ve got some surprises for you soon, Debbee,and I don?t think you?re going to like them all.? Atthe end of the meal and several bottles of beer, he unzipped his pants andpissed straight into a bowl, putting it on the floor in front of me. I didn?thave to wait to be told. I knew what to do from my daily slave duties and bentmy head. She started off, intent on finding Friar Geoffrey, who she supposed would be finishing the crossbow demonstration.Except she could see him, a hundred yards away, talking to Duke Roger, the two of them slowly walking towards her. Well, at least neither of them had shown up to check up on her, actually on the job!Someone touched her arm and she turned to look.It was a short, dumpy man, wearing a blue business suit; just a little out of place. "Excuse me, Miss. Is your name Kennedy?" he asked."Who wants to know?" Kennedy replied, her hand dropping to the hilt of Lady Kennedy, the sword.The man produced a leather wallet and flashed a badge for an instant at her. "I'm Special Agent Tom Larkin, FBI, Miss. You are Miss Kennedy, are you not?" The badge had been visible only partially, for a fraction of a second."Lady Kennedy," she corrected him. "Now, let's see the badge again, only slower. Do you have any ID?"He took the leather wallet out and showed her the badge, and then his ID card..
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It was not until two full days later that a messenger rode into camp like the hounds of hell were in pursuit and plunked down the official notice that General Lee had surrendered almost thirty thousand Confederate troops up in Virginia.It was a godsend, because our two armies facing each other in the Raleigh Durham area numbered close to a quarter of a million anxious souls hoping against hope that the war was coming to a close. The chance of surviving was a distinct possibility now and only the die-hard cavalry units continued to skirmish with deadly intent. For some reason, the cavalrymen acted like they were in some magnificent chess game with human life as some pawn to be taken with total disregard to common humanity. They reminded me of the armored units clanking hither and yon making lots of noise and refusing to be dragged down into the mud of common Infantry survival. These southern states would make compatible terrain for tank warfare, but they were fortunately preserved for.

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