Conor Dillon – Beginnings Excerpt 14
As we three galloped away, I turned and looked over my shoulder, My Mother still stood outside the house following our progress. I wondered if I would ever see her again or was this truly goodbye, I felt a lump in my throat at the thought.
After all, I was travelling to a Foreign land to meet a Father who may disown me, to become a soldier. I knew that I was competent, even skilled with my weapons, but could I kill another man? I had vowed to kill Michael, but now he was my friend, why did life have to be so confusing?
We followed the route of the earlier immigrants, we took passage on a ship from the mouth of the River Shannon to the French port of Brest. It was quite an uneventful journey, although I wasn’t too keen on being aboard ship, I preferred land under my feet not the rolling sea.
Once we had disembarked from the ship. We stopped at an Inn on the outskirts of Brest for some food and were looked at most curiously by the native French. But then, we were a giant of a man 6.4, a tall ginger haired youth and a wiry little man. They must have thought we had escaped from a freak show.
Fortunately, no one made and comments, so there were no problems with the locals. Shamus made enquiries, to my surprise in fluent French. A language that I found both he and Michael spoke and understood. Once again I realised how little I knew about my companions.
(C) Damian Grange 2018