Excerpt from Book 3 in the “Sun sets on the West” series.
….. Edinburgh
Duncan drank in the cool Edinburgh morning air as he stood on the devastated Princes Street and looked over the gardens. In the East, a golden sun raised its sleepy head. In the South, imposed high on a clear blue sky, the fire-blackened castle was bathed in the new day’s early light.
Only recently, this street witnessed civil strife. Cars and trams still littered the scene. Burnt out monuments to the defiance of this old town’s citizenry. The burghers of Scotland’s capital, generally a peaceful, accommodating lot, were pushed beyond breaking. And broken they had. Almost spontaneously, they’d risen against the oppressor. Much like the words from the song, Edinburgh rose to send them homeward. Yet before the proud invader could think again, the election took place, and Scotland, in age-old tradition, voted Edward’s seed back into power.
Agnostic on the governance of his nation only a year ago. For reasons of a rather personal nature, Duncan felt a little sick as the Butcher’s Apron climbed the flagpole that sat atop the castle. Once again, it signified hegemony over all below.
Yet, Boris was Gone again. Elizabeth inhabited a cell somewhere at His Majesty’s pleasure. Barry, their tool, was nowhere to be found. Back in the office, many people searched for the illusive man.
Barry aside, Duncan should feel satisfied, he was sure. Although the recent dream of his nation’s rebirth was quickly taken away, the UK was ostensively now under the control of Labour’s cuddly new administration. Sir Kerr Palmer appeared on TV screens around the nation to acknowledge reaping the whirlwind that ripped his Tory opposition apart. Things could only get better. Surely?
The above novel is work in progress and will yet change
