The Boy Soldier stands warily exposed and suffocated in English colours. Behind him rise steps that could be hills, gulleys, or perhaps waterfalls growing towards a Celtic cross. This omnipresent judge stares down as the soldier’s voice rings: “Knowing and not knowing what lay ahead of us. Scotland…War.”
Eleventh century Scotland. The boy’s army has successfully slaughtered the violent Macbeth and the English creep towards an unknown land, brimming with hope and vision. Yet this is Scotland. As the seasons tick by, commanding officer Siward and his men begin to realise that peace is a fickle notion in a country where “nothing is solid.”
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