A Voice from the Past

Chapter 12: Hippocratic Oath

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. . . . .

My head was reelin' wi' the realization as I was a free man. I walked into the hallway, blind wi' joy, so's as I verra nearly knocked o'er my Sassenach when I entered the surgery.

She turned away from the work table, puttin' down the mortar and pestle as she was mixin' herbs in. "Jamie, what is it? You're flushed, but don't seem to be a bit upset."

"Nay, just the opposite. I'm free, Claire. Black Jack has granted me a pardon."

"What? A pardon? Excuse me for saying so, but that doesn't sound like Randall whatsoever."

"It's the god's own truth, Sassenach. The meetin' was verra odd tho'. The blatherskite asked me questions 'bout why I got marrit to ye and such."

"That is odd—very odd indeed. Why do you suppose he would venture in that vein of inquiry?"

Shruggin', I felt just as mystified as mo nighean donn. "I canna e'en guess 'bout the workin's of that cur's mind. He's touched in the head for certain, but I'll no say anythin' 'bout that."

Claire flung herself into my arms. "Oh, Jamie, I'm so happy for you."

"Aye. I wanta burst out singin'."

She looked op at me, eagerness in her eyes. "How did Colum react to this sudden turn of events?"

"Christ—Colum—I forgot 'bout my uncle. I imagine he'll be wantin' to ken the outcome as weel."

# # # # #

Jamie lifted me in the air, braying, "I'm free, truly free. Stars and stones, I canna believe it."

Putting me back on my feet, but still gripping me about the waist, he proceeded to endow me with a lingering kiss. As we were thus engaged, in walked Murtagh, looking as if he'd been sucking on the end of kosher dill.

After clearing his throat, he remarked, "I expect the meetin' wi' the British scunner went weel."

"Aye. The price on my head isna more."

With the scowl never leaving his face, he dryly offered, "Is that a fact, ye wee gomerel?"

"I kent yer meanin', forbye, I can barely believe it myself."

Murtagh's face folded in on itself, a frown of skepticism alighting upon it. "The man must be ill; else, barmy. It's the only explanation."

"Barmy or no, the man said the soldier as killt the sergeant was hanged, so I'll no be keekin' o'er my shoulder ever' minute o' ever' day."

"And what, might I ask, did Himself havta say say 'bout itall?"

"I've no been to see him as yet."

"Weel, ye best detach yerself from the lass, then, and inform the man."

"Aye." He promptly let loose of me, and nodding to us, blared, "Claire, Murtagh ... I'm off."

I waved at him, cheerfully, as he strode toward the exit, delighted at this new development. His cousin, however did not share in my joy.

"You don't look at all happy for him, Murtagh."

"Nay ... ye're correct in that assumption. I ken Randall, and what's to stop him from changin' his mind, aye?"

"But he gave Jamie his word. Surely, he would never give it unless he planned to honor it."

"Phffft! Randall's word isna worth a bawbee. I dinna trust that smarmy stoat."