A Voice from the Past

Chapter 9: Acting the Part

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Corporal Hawkins leaned toward him in a conspiratorial way. "Well ... it seems the captain had the idea that this woman was a spy for the Scots. He interrogated her to see if he could catch her in a lie, and he was not very gentlemanly in his attempt, if truth be told. I witnessed his brutality. Why, Randall had pummeled her to the floor ..." Here he jerked his head to the side, indicating the direction of a room down the hall. "... over there, where the officers assemble. While I was present, he began kicking her viciously, and ordered me to do the same. Mind you, I was reluctant to indulge in such unseemly behavior, but it was either that or face a lashing at his hand myself. The captain is notorious for his talent with a cat o' nine.

"The next thing I knew, the war chief of the MacKenzie clan came to fetch her, and Randall gave the man an ultimatum. Dougal was to bring the woman to Fort William in three days' time for further questioning.

"Mistress Fraser never returned, for she had married Red Jamie, and was by law, a Scottish subject by virtue of marriage. I'm sure the poor lady had no say in the affair. But at least Randall could no longer compel her to come."

Frank nodded. "That is quite a tale. It would be unbelievable, but for the fact that I myself have firsthand knowledge of the man's taste for sadistic acts."

Hawkins suddenly turned around, walking rapidly in the opposite direction. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

Randall strode forward. "Beechum, what the deuce are you doing, larking about in the hallway? Find something useful to do, man. I have a brace of pistols that are in need of attention. Get to it."

# # # # #

We were back at Leoch, and Jamie was adamant about my not venturing beyond the castle. "Sassenach, ye ken as I love ye, but I'll no allow ye to roam these hills by yerself. It's no safe. I need ye to obey me in this. I need ye to stay put."

Stay put ... Easy for him to say. He was out and about, flitting here and there on errands doing god knows what, whereas, I was a virtual prisoner.

It was stifling in my surgery, with the pungent aromas from my potions, combined with stale air, and there were no patients recently to keep me occupied. I sorely needed a respite from all this bloody boredom, and a breath of fresh air.

He'd come to fetch me for some lunch when an argument ensued with the stubborn Scotsman. "Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! Must I forever be confined to these suffocating castle walls? I'm going out of my mind with cabin fever."

Jamie's head jerked, and that muddled look crossed his features. He placed his palm on my forehead. "Are ye ill, then? I dinna feel any fever. Are ye sure, Lass?"

I glared at him. "Oh, good lord, I didn't mean that literally. I meant that I'm bored to tears, staring at these stone bulwarks. Furthermore, there's no circulation of air in here; I could most probably succumb to sleep from lack of oxygen at any given moment. It's not healthy, body or mental wise."

Shaking his head, he pointed at me, and offered, "I didna say as ye couldna take a stroll outside. I just said, as I didna want ye to be alone. Ye can gad 'bout all ye want as long as one of us is wi' ye."

"A bodyguard?"

"If ye will ... wi' sword in hand if need be."

"You're being ridiculous."

"Nay. I told ye once as I would protect ye wi' my body, and I aim to do just that. Forbye, ye said yerself as Black Jack was at that skirmish wi' the deserters. And what's to prevent him from seekin' ye out, and kidnappin' ye, I ask?