Je Suis Prest || Outlander

Chapter 4

We left for Balriggan at the break of dawn one day the following week. I felt sad to leave Lallybroch. Janet, or Auntie Jenny as she kept asking me to call her now, packed us baskets with lunch, spare clothes her children had outgrown, and some of Jamie's belongings she wanted him to take. They were mostly books, and tucked into the pages of one was a small scrap of tartan in Fraser red. I wondered if this was a part of the kilt Jamie wore on the Culloden battlefield.

The cart rattled along the road away from Lallybroch. Joan and I turned around in our seats and waved goodbye until we could not see the Murray family anymore.

"Does this mean yer our brother now?" Joan asked after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

"No. I am not Jamie's son. I used to work for Milord when I was about your age."

"Oh. Where are your parents then?" I kicked Joan in the shin. I had learned at an early age that that was never a polite question to ask, but she was a bit further removed from the horrors of Culloden.

"It is okay. I never knew them. I was born in Paris, and I grew up in a... in a... well, it does not matter. I met Milord and he took me in. But not before I tried to pick his pocket." He winked at Joanie, who giggled although I questioned if she knew what a pick pocket was. The next several minutes consisted of a tedious question-and-answer led by Joanie. His animated tales of him and Jamie working together in Paris, and going to battle in the '45 were cheerful. It seemed the horrors did not stick to him the same as it had for other men I had met in the aftermath of the '45.

"You know, I killed a Redcoat once."

"Really," Joan gasped.

"Aye. I was terrified of going to Hell for it, but Jamie's... Claire, she helped me."

Claire. An English name. The English witch?

"What happened to your hand? Did you lose it in a battle?"

For the first time, I saw Fergus' cheerful countenance darken. "No. I was stupid. I was teasing some Redcoats one day, a few months after Culloden. I thumbed my nose at them and they did not take too kindly to it." He made a silly face, imitating the gesture that must have led to the loss of his hand, but when he looked down at the hook now protruding from his wrist, his smile faded. "Anyways, it does not bother me so much anymore. It hurt, of course, but Milord always said that if I ever lost a hand, or an ear, working for him, that he would support me and I would never have to work another day in my life." He smirked in a way that seemed more of a wince. It was again the mirror of Jamie's expression after I mentioned the magic rocks to him what seemed like ages ago. Fergus leaned down towards Joan and said, "I think I would have preferred to lose my ear."

"You will work though?" I asked before I could stop myself.

He raised an eyebrow at me in surprise, but answered my ridiculous question. "Oui. I will do whatever Milord would like me to do. He can't get rid of me that easily." I wanted to kick myself for sounding like a nag. What business was it of mine if Fergus worked?

We stopped once to eat a quick lunch before continuing on to Balriggan. When we arrived, my mother was crouched down in her vegetable garden tearing at the weeds with a passion I had never seen in her. Fergus lifted Joan out of the cart and eyed the scene for a moment before deciding it would be best for him to seek out Jamie before engaging with the women flinging dirt around in a frenzy.

"Ma!" Joan, oblivious to the anger driving our mother's aggressive gardening, threw herself over her back. She squealed as our mother stood and took her into a tight hug. She kissed both of us on the top of the head twice and pulled me into the hug as well. "We missed you! Where's Daddy?"