Highland Soldiers: The Enemy

by J. L. Jarvis

Mari forced a smile, but even in the moonlight he looked pale. “You fell on the dirk. It’s not very deep.”

  A quiet moan drew Mari’s attention to Hughie. Wiping the blood from her hands, she felt his head to determine how badly he was hurt. With a loud groan, he swatted her hand from the large lump on the back of his head.

  “I’m sorry,” she hastened to tell him.

  As she leaned over Hughie, she was pushed to the side with a force that took her breath away. She looked up to see Jamie step on Hughie’s slumped body and struggle to boost himself over the wall. With a grunt, he landed on the other side, on the ground. Gasping for air, he pulled himself to his feet and staggered away until his uneven footsteps grew faint in the distance.

  Hughie fell unconscious as Mari cried out for help.

  *

  The next day, Hughie sat, with a headache to match the large lump on his head, beside Callum, Charlie, Alex, and three other guards who had been on duty the previous night. Before them was Captain of the Guards. Having heard their account of the prisoner’s escape, Captain Lumsden completed his examination of the other three guards. There seemed to be little doubt that the prison brawl had been staged to provide a distraction so Jamie could escape. He looked first at Callum, and then studied Hughie. “The events seem to hinge upon you two men. I now read from the Order of the Privy Council, under which we serve here:

  … And that for that end they shall put them into the inner Greyfriars churchyard, with convenient guards to wait upon them, who are to have at least twenty-four sentries in the night time, and eight in the day time; of which sentries the officers shall keep a particular list, that if any of the prisoners escape, the sentries may assure themselves to cast the dice, and answer body for body for the fugitives, without any exception; and the officers are to answer for the sentries, and the town of Edinburgh for the officers. And if any of the prisoners escape, the Council will require a particular account, and make them answerable for them.

  “Private,” Captain Lumsden said to Hughie.

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Tell me again how the prisoner came to be so close to the wall that he was able to climb over.”

  “He climbed over my unconscious body, sir.”

  “And how did you come to be unconscious?”

  “There was a fight. McEwan got away and I chased him.” He glanced at Callum, and continued. “We fought and he struck me. I’m told that my head hit a rock. That’s all I can remember.” Hughie’s face reddened. He could feel Callum’s eyes on him.

  Captain Lumsden raised an eyebrow. “And how do you know that he climbed onto you?”

  “I could feel it.”

  “While you were unconscious?”

  “No, after.”

  “And the blood that we found on the ground?”

  “Oh, that. Well, I… I must have stabbed him. I—forgot to mention that.”

  “You forgot to mention a trifling detail like stabbing the prisoner?” He peered skeptically at Hughie.

  Hughie’s brow furrowed. “Aye.”

  Captain Lumsden studied him for a moment, and then continued. “And what of this piece of torn cloth. Where did this come from?”

  Hughie looked at the cloth. “I dinnae ken.”

  The captain leaned over the table between them. “This is the kind of cloth one might find under a woman’s skirt, is it not?”

  “It might be.” Hughie was too honest a man to lie well. He shifted in his chair and looked up at the captain.

  “The nights can get quiet and long in that dismal kirkyard, I imagine.”

  “Aye, they can.”

  “So you brought in a little visitor.”

  Hughie’s eyes widened. “No!” Callum inwardly groaned. Hughie did not see that a plausible explanation was being unwittingly served up on a platter.

  “Thought you’d have a little slap and tickle to pass the time, eh?” Captain Lumsden smiled. “Things got a bit rough, did they?”

  Hughie leapt to his feet. “No! She’s not like that!”

  Callum slowly blinked, and then focused his gaze to the floor.

  “And does she have a name?”

  Hughie frowned and shook his head. After a quick glance toward Callum, he sat down and was mute.

  “Ensign MacDonell?”

  Callum clenched his jaw, and met the captain’s pointed look.

  “Your lad Hughie here seems to have slept through a good portion of the incident. Shame that he missed the part where the woman’s undergarments were torn off.”

  Hughie straightened and leaned forward in protest, but one look from Callum settled him back into place.

  The officer continued. “So we’re left with a situation in which we have no witness.”

  Callum gave a cautious nod.

  Captain Lumsden said, “I met your wife once.”

  Callum’s eyes widened, but he quickly recovered and made it look more like interest than surprise. Captain Lumsden looked down with a hint of a smile from the memory. “We shared a pint on the day of Bothwell Brigg.”

  Callum studied Captain Lumsden, not quite able to read him. Mari had never mentioned meeting the captain. As he studied Lumsden’s expression, he could not gauge in which direction this story might lead, but he was fairly certain he was not going to like it.

  “Your wife has a relative here, has she not? Or rather, had a relative here. That is, until he escaped.”

  Callum said nothing.

  “If we were to send men to your house, would they find a torn shift to match this cloth I am holding?”

  He met the captain’s gaze plainly, and said, “What they’d find, if they tried to look under my wife’s skirts, is my fist in their faces.”

  The captain’s mouth curved up a bit at the corner. “If we found such a torn shift, we would have to arrest your wife as an accessory to treason.”

  Callum steeled himself. “Aye, sir. You do have that power.”

  With a steady look, the captain said bluntly, “Did your wife conspire to help the prisoner, her brother, escape?”

  “No,” Callum said with no hesitation.

  “He is her brother, after all.”

  “Aye, he is that. But she would not have done it.” He leveled a cool look at the captain. “If she had been there.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because she would never hurt me.”

  Captain Lumsden looked Callum straight in the eye. “And you honestly think she would choose you over her own flesh and blood?”

  Without hesitation, Callum said, “ I am certain she would never hurt me.”

  Lumsden held Callum’s gaze for long moment. “So am I.”

  He sat down in the chair across from Callum and leaned back. “I found her after the Battle of Bothwell Brigg combing the camp looking for you. I was of the impression that she was prepared to take on the whole English Army if it stood in the way of her finding you.”

  Callum smiled to himself at the thought and, in doing so, failed to notice Captain Lumsden doing the same. His mood shifted, as if he were turning something over in his mind. “What cause had she to think you would be put in danger if her brother escaped? What had you to do with it, after all?”

  Callum cursed at himself as his thoughts raced through each word he had said. “I had nothing to do with it. Nor did my wife. But she would ken well enough, as do you, that what happens on my watch is my responsibility, regardless of who is to blame. I dinnae take it lightly.” Captain Lumsden scrutinized Callum. Moments later, he stood and walked to the door and beckoned for someone. In came his assistant to record his report.

  “There were no witnesses, but the evidence shows that the prisoner overpowered the guard, knocking him unconscious. He then used the guard’s body as a sort of human stile to climb over the wall.”

  Hughie’s expression and breathing relaxed at the news that Mari would not be charged with a crime. Callum did the same inwardly, but refused to reveal it. He felt quite certain that Lumsden suspected Ma
ri of helping her brother. And yet, he had chosen not to involve her. Although Mari was smart, Captain Lumsden was clever and skilled. He would have drawn the truth from her. He said he had met her. Whatever had transpired in that meeting, Callum felt sure it now prompted the captain to protect her.

  Captain Lumsden said, “The unfortunate matter remains. The Privy Council orders, under which we serve here, call for the guards to answer body for body for every escaped prisoner. So to pay for the loss of the prisoner, someone must take his place.”

  So that was it, thought Callum. Lumsden did not want to put Mari in prison. He seemed to think she was guilty, and yet he was choosing to spare her. Callum said, “Sir, may I speak?”

  “Ensign,” he said with a nod.

  “The other guards were nowhere near the incident.”

  “Except for Hugh MacDonell.”

  “But I am the officer. Therefore I am the one you should hold to account. I accept my responsibility for the incident, as well as the consequences.”

  Charlie and Alex protested. Alex said, “The order says to cast dice. We will not be denied.”

  “Aye,” Charlie said in firm agreement.

  Lumsden’s mouth quirked at the corner. “Your men think very highly of you.”

  Charlie said, “Aye, and we’ll prove it. Just hand us the dice.”

  Lumsden assessed Callum’s resolve, and then stood and went to the window to consider for several moments in silence.

  Callum watched and wondered at what drove the captain’s decision. If he had had any suspicions of Mari, he had either ruled them out or chosen to protect her. So he now had a choice, and Callum intended to make it an easy one.

  “I need only one man to take the prisoner’s place. If I have a volunteer, there’s no need to cast dice. Have I a volunteer?” He looked at Callum for confirmation, before making his decision final.

  Callum met his eyes squarely. “You do.”

  It was an honorable move on Callum’s part, and it was met with respect. Captain Lumsden gave Callum a nod, and then walked to the door and called for the guards.

  “No, Callum!” cried Hughie. He sprang to his feet, refusing to let Callum take his place.

  Callum leaned over to Charlie and Alex. “First see to the lad, and then look after Mari.” He gave them a grave stare, which they returned with solemn nods.

  Hughie said, “Callum, I will not let you do this!”

  To Hughie he said, “I made a promise to Nellie to keep you safe, lad.”

  The guards each took an arm and led him away, leaving Hughie crying out in futile protest. Charlie and Alex went to Hughie, and each gripped an arm and held him back until Callum was gone.

  *

  “No!” cried Mari. “You did not let him do it!”

  “It was Callum’s decision,” said Charlie, in his warm soothing way that charmed all women but Mari, at this moment. No one defied Callum; they respected him too much for that.

  “I dinnae care a whit about Callum’s decision. He should not have done it.”

  Charlie looked somberly at her. “Would you rather have Hughie in prison?”

  His words struck their blow. Mari shook her head and tamped down her frustration.

  “We’ll look out for him, lass,” added Alex.

  “I’m sorry, Mari. I didnae want to. These two held me back,” Hughie said, as he sat down in Duncan’s old chair by the window and sulked.

  “It’s not your fault, Hughie,” she said, watching him. She sighed and looked at Charlie and Alex, who both returned the same helpless stare. She shook her head in resignation. Softly, she said, “It was the right thing to do, but I hate that it had to be done. I should never have gone there to visit my brother. It’s my fault.”

  Charlie took Mari’s elbow. “Sit down, lassie.” She gave a nod, and he took her hand and led her to a chair in the sitting room. But first, with her hands on her hips, she said, “Hughie, come here.”

  Hughie lifted his heartsick eyes to meet hers. She took his hand and pulled him into a hug. “There’s no point in trying to argue with Callum when he wants his way.” She touched his cheek and combed back his hair as though he were a child—a very tall one—and then sat down.

  Alex brought her a glass. “Here, Mari; doctor’s orders.”

  “With you as my doctor, I’m in even more trouble than I thought.” She laughed, but tears soon filled her eyes.

  “Och, lass,” said Alex as he put his arm about her and let her cry on his shoulder. When she ran out of tears, Alex said, “There, now, lass.” He lifted her chin. “Dinnae tell anyone about this. We dinnae want word to get around that I’ve got feelings.”

  Mari tried to smile, but she could not be distracted. “Why could Jamie not have just signed that oath?”

  “I suppose you’ve got to admire his perverse sense of honor,” said Charlie.

  Mari shook her head. “There was no honor in this. It was pride. He could have swallowed his pride, signed a pledge, and been free. But instead he escaped, knowing that someone would be forced to take his place. And he knew there was a good chance that someone would be Callum. He has never approved of my marriage to a papist Highlander, so he took pleasure in tearing us apart. And for that, I will never forgive him.”

  Alex said, “I’ve seen your brother in there day after day. He’s a bitter man, lass. And he lost his true love. How can we ken what that does to a man unless we’ve been through it?”

  “I pray that I’ll never learn what it does to a woman,” said Mari. “One thing I do ken is that if anything happens to Callum, I will hold Jamie to blame for the rest of my life.”

  In the early hours of the morning, Mari fell asleep, exhausted, in a sitting room chair. Alex carried her to bed while Hughie laid a quilt over her. After they had all crept out, Charlie gently closed the door to the bedroom. As no one was willing to leave her alone, the three slept on the sitting room floor.

  *

  Callum was put in a cell with the men he had once guarded. He had been fair with the prisoners, but guards did not win friends, so he counted himself lucky to be left alone. Each guard there knew that he might have been in Callum’s place, so they kept an eye out for him. But the prison was an open-air structure—little more than stone pens for men, as if they were animals. The effect was the same, except animals were far better sheltered in byres than he was in this kirkyard. The winter wind blew over the hill. Callum wrapped his plaid about himself and settled back against the stone wall. If he could not sleep outside in the cold, he was not much of a Highlander. But he thought about Mari at home in their bed, soft and warm, and he missed her. The lads would take care of her, of that he was certain. But when he would see her, he did not know. Visits had never been allowed, and the one he had arranged had gotten him in here. His clansmen had taken care not to report Mari’s presence at the time of the escape, but a few of the other guards knew she had been there. While Callum had their respect and their silence, it served as a warning. While they did not suspect Mari of wrongdoing, they would not allow Mari—or anyone else—to make an unauthorized visit again. Callum now paid for the first mistake. They would not join him with a second.

  Chapter 13

  Captain Teddico sat in his crumpled coat and waistcoat across the desk of a young and prosperous merchant. If William Paterson had vision and purse for grand schemes, it was Teddico who had the sea legs to get the job done without being hindered by questions, excuses or scruples. He knew this well as he faced the fine merchant in his fine velvet clothes, sitting in his fine carpeted office. His hands never got dirty. But Teddico did not mind. Men like Paterson needed the likes of him, and they paid a fine price.

  “These prisoners in Greyfriars will require transportation,” said Paterson.

  “Aye,” said the captain with a confident nod. He had carried human cargo many times before. African, Scottish, Irish or English, it made little difference to him.

  Paterson told him, “I’ve chartered a ship, The Crown of Lon
don.”

  “The Crown.” Teddico nodded. “For how many?”

  “Two hundred and fifty-seven.”

  “And when would we sail?”

  “By December.”

  Teddico’s bushy brows met in the middle as he considered it. “December? You ken that there’s rough seas in December.”

  Paterson acknowledged the fact with barely a nod, barely bothering to make eye contact.

  “It takes longer that time of year, with the weather and such.”

  “But you can do it,” said Paterson, cutting to the point.

  “Aye,” said Teddico, drawing out the word as he feigned deeper thought. “But there’s added danger, and a much longer journey. That will mean more supplies, and more pay for the men.”

  Paterson held his gaze. “The usual price. That is what I am offering.”

  Teddico lowered his head, disappointed, but lifted his eyes to offer his continued, begrudging attention.

  Paterson seemed not to notice, and continued. “Each prisoner will pay a charge of five pounds sterling transportation for each adult; for children under twelve years of age fifty shillings; and forty shillings per one ton of goods. Those unable to pay for their passage will be promised twenty-five acres of land and a new suit of clothes upon the completion of four years of service. Of that, Captain, you will receive two pounds per prisoner carried and delivered at your own proper cost and charge, reimbursement for costs incurred for those who die, and no payment for those who escape.”

  Teddico’s eyes narrowed. As though factoring the costs in his head, he said, “At this time of the year, we’ll have six hours of light, storms and delays due to weather, which means more supplies, more expenses.” He paused. “I think a fair share would be two pounds fifty per man.” He had no work lined up for the next few months, but he was not about to reveal that, nor how much he wanted the work.

  “The offer is two pounds per man, as I’ve stated.”

  Teddico sat silently staring down at his hands as he nervously rubbed his fingers.

  Paterson eyed him, and allowed him several long moments to squirm. When Teddico started to shift his position, Paterson placed his palms on his desk and pushed his chair back. “If it’s a problem… ”