Scene 34


Great Hall of X Marks the Scot


We had sat through the ceremony where a few honors were awarded. Livingston and myself were both awarded the Golden Thistle for the wounds we had received on the mission.

All the members of my team, the security men, Livingston, Erisianmonkey, and even Wompet were awarded the League Commendation Medal for our participation in the mission.

One award was given out that had nothing to do with the mission. McClef was awarded the Order of the Grand Defender of the Kilt for his long and outstanding service to the members of the forum.

As the ceremony was winding down, everyone was enjoying the refreshments provided. People were gathered in small groups making idle conversation. I noticed that Ms. Hawk and Mr. Mender were spending a fair amount of time together. I really wondered what was going on, as the two of them were revealing parts of their body to one another. I quit worrying though, when I realized that they were sharing battle stories and showing off their scars. They really were kindred spirits.

The chaplain, Prestor John, came up to me and whispered in my ear. When I heard what he had to say, I realized that Ms. Wren needed to hear it too.

We walked over to her together. “Ms. Wren,” I said, “the chaplain needs you to come to the infirmary immediately.”

“Why,” she said, “What’s wrong?”

“Just please, come with us.”

We made our way down to the infirmary. Ms. Wren seemed to grip the chaplain’s arm tighter with every step. We approached the door to where her husband was being kept.

“I think you should go in alone,” Prestor John told her. His voice was deadly serious.

Ms. Wren slowly walked to the door. She hesitated when she grasped the knob. She glanced over at us with worry.

“Go ahead,” said the Chaplain. “You need to see this.”

When Ms. Wren turned back to the door and turned the knob, the chaplain looked at me. His face lit up in a smile and I couldn’t stop my own smile.

Ms. Wren hadn’t seen our smiles when she opened the door. As the door opened into the room though, she let out a squeal of joy.

There on the bed was Celtic Menace. He was sitting up in the bed, reading a magazine.

Ms. Wren ran to him and took him in her arms. We could tell that her crying was from pure joy.