There it is, he thought, at once surprised and not surprised at all. Hed seen itor rather, felt itbefore, but it had taken several repetitions before hed realized fully what it was. The summoning of the dead, when those who loved them spoke of them. He could feel Brian Dhu, here beside this mountain creek, as surely as he had felt him that dreich day in the Highlands.
Roger gave a brief nod to the ghost who stood with them, thought, Forgive me, and went on.
He told of William Buccleigh MacKenzie, whod once nearly killed Roger but now was in the way of making amends by helping to find Jem. How together they had met Dougal MacKenzie, out collecting rents with his men
Jesus, Jamie said, though Roger noticed he didnt cross himself at mention of Dougal. His mouth curved up at the corner. Did Dougal ken thethat this man Buck was his son?
No, Roger said dryly. As Buck hadnt been born yet. Buck kent Dougal was his father, though; that was a bit of a shock for him. Not only for him.
I imagine it would be, Jamie murmured. A tinge of amusement lingered on his face, and Roger wonderednot for the first timeat the ability of Highlanders to step back and forth between this world and the next. Jamie had killed his uncle when he had to, but had made his peace postmortem; hed heard Jamie call on Dougal for help in battleand seen him get it, too.
Roger and Buck had got it, as well: Dougal had lent them horses for their journey.
But as Roger had said, this wasnt about his own search for son and father. This was about what he owed to another father and another son. To the shade of Brian Dhuand to Jamie.
Ill tell ye the rest sometime. But for nowwe went back to Lallybroch, for Brian had sent word that hed found a thing that was maybe to do with my business.
The thing was a sort of pendant sent to him from the garrison commander at Fort William. It seemed odd and it had the name MacKenzie on it, so both the commander and Brian thought I should see it. There was a remembered tightness in his chest as he saw the disks in his mind: pressed cardboard, one red, one green, both imprinted with the name J. W. MacKenzie and a string of cryptic numbersthe ID dog tags of an RAF flyer, and proof positive that they were looking for a different Jeremiah.
We needed to find where those tags had come from, aye? So we went back to Fort William. And He had to stop and breathe deep, to get it out. Captain Buncombe had left; the new garrison commander was a Captain Randall.
All amusement had vanished from Jamies face, which was now blank as a slate.
Aye, Roger said, and coughed a bit. Him. The new commander had been cordial, personable. Helpful, Roger said. It was He searched for a word, then spread his hands, helpless to find it. It was weird. I mean I knew what hed
Done to me? Jamies eyes were fixed on his, unreadable.
What hed do to you. Claire told meus. When she He caught sight of Jamies face and hurried on. I mean, she kent ye were dead, or Im sure she wouldnt have
She told ye everything, then. Jamies expression hadnt changed much, but his face had gone pale.
Oh, shit.
Well, just the er the general outli He stopped. Yell never make a decent minister if ye cant be honest. Buck had said that to him, and he was right. Roger took a breath.
Yes, he said simply, and felt his innards hollow out.
Without a word, Jamie got to his feet and, turning away, took several steps into the bushes, stopped, and threw up.
Without a word, Jamie got to his feet and, turning away, took several steps into the bushes, stopped, and threw up.
Oh, Jesus. Oh, God. What was I thinking!
Roger felt as though hed been holding his breath for an hour, and took a sip of air, and then another. Hed been thinking far aheadto what he needed to say to Jamie, to explain and apologize, to ask forgiveness. He needed to do that, if he and Bree were to live here again. But he hadnt thought at all that Jamie might not realize that Rogerand Bree, for Gods sake!knew the intimate details of his personal Gethsemane; had known them for years.
Bloody, bloody, bloody oh, hell
Roger sat with his fists clenched, listening to Jamie gulp air, spit, and pant. He kept his eyes fixed on a scarlet ladybug with black spots that had lighted on his knee; it trundled to and fro over the gray homespun, curious antennae prodding the cloth. At last there was a rustling of bushes, and Jamie came back and sat down, back pressed against the sapling. Roger opened his mouth, and Jamie made a short chopping gesture with one hand.
Dont, he said. His shirt was damp with sweat, wilted over his collarbones. All the evening insects had come out now; clouds of gnats floated over their heads, and the crickets had begun to chirp. A mosquito whined past Rogers ear, but he didnt lift a hand to swat it.
Jamie sighed and gave Roger a very direct look.
Go on, then, he said. Tell me the rest.
Roger nodded and met Jamies eyes.
I knew about Randall, and what he was, he said bluntly. And what would happen. Not just to youto your sister. And your father.
This time Jamie did cross himself, slowly, and whispered something in Gaelic that Roger didnt catch, but didnt ask to have repeated.
I told Buck, thenjust, about thethe flogging, not about The fingers of Jamies maimed hand flickered, as though about to make the chopping motion again. About your father, and what happened to him then.
He felt again the cold horror of that conversation. If he did nothing to stop Jack Randall, Brian Dhu Fraser would be dead within a year, dead of an apoplexy suffered while watching his son being flogged to death (as he thought) by Captain Randall. Jamie would be outlawed, wounded in body and soul, bearing the guilt of knowing that his fathers death lay upon him, knowing that he had abandoned his home and tenants to his bereaved and shattered sister. And Jenny, that lovely young girl, left completely alone, without even a brothers protection.
Jamie didnt flinch at the telling, but Roger could feel the words go into his own flesh like darts. Jenny. Christ, how will I face her?
He drew a deep breath. They were nearly there.
Buck wanted to kill himRandall. Right away, without hesitation.
There was the barest breath of a laugh in Jamies voice, though it wavered a bit.
He was Dougals son, then.
Absolutely no doubt about it, Roger assured him. You should have seen the two of them together.
I wish I had.
Roger rubbed a hand over his face, shaking his head.
The thing iswe could have stopped him. Killed him, I mean. We were armed. Id been to see him before, with your da. Hed have no fear of me; I could have gone into his office with Buck and done it. Or we might have followed him to his lodgings, done it there; wed have had a good chance of getting away.
Jamie had flinched, just once, at the word da. He sat quiet now, though, his eyes the only thing alive in his face.
I wouldnt let Buck do it, Roger blurted, speaking to those eyes. I knew what would happenall of itand I let it happen. To your family. To you.
Jamie looked down but didnt speak. Roger felt fresh air from the creek come up from below, and felt the cold shadow of the trees touch his burning face.
At last Jamie stirred, nodding his head once, then twice, deciding.
And if yed killed him? he said quietly. If I hadna been an outlaw, Id not have been near Craigh na Dun, and in bad need of a healer, on that day when One eyebrow lifted.
Roger nodded, wordless.
Brianna? Jamie said softly, her name the sound of cool breeze in the Gàidhlig. Would she have happened? And the bairns? You, for that matter?
Itwemight still have happened, Roger said, and swallowed. Another way. But aye. I was scared it might not. But Im not He bit that off. Jamie knew he wasnt making excuses.
Aye, well. Jamie got to his feet, scattering a cloud of gnats like a shower of gold dust in the evening light. Dinna fash, then. I willna let Jenny kill ye. Come on, or the supper will be burnt.
Roger felt rather as though a rug had been pulled out from under him. He didnt know what hed been expecting, but apparent calm acceptance wasnt it.
You dont he began hesitantly.
I dont. Jamie reached down a hand, and when Roger took it, hauled him to his feet so they stood face-to-face, the trees beginning to rustle around them in the evening breeze.
I spent a great deal of time thinking, ken, Jamie said conversationally, tilting his head toward the creek, when I lived as an outlaw after Culloden. Out under the sky, listening to the voices ye hear in the wind. And I would look back, wondering at the things Id doneand not doneand thinking what if Id done it differently? If wed not chosen to try to stop Charles Stuart it would have been different for us, at least, if not for the Highlands. Id maybe have kept Claire by me. If Id not gone to fight Jack Randall in the Bois de Boulogne, would I have two daughters now? He shook his head, the lines in his face deep and his eyes dark with shadows.
No man owns his own life, he said. Part of you is always in someone elses hands. All ye can do is hope its mostly Gods hands youre in. He touched Rogers shoulder, nodding toward the trail. We should go.
Roger followed, eased in mind, but unable to see the grubby, coarse shirt that covered Jamies back without still seeing the scars beneath.
Mind, Jamie said, turning to Roger at the head of the trail, I think ye maybe shouldna tell Jenny what ye just told me. Not first thing, I mean. Let her get used to ye.
JAMIE TOOK THE kindling sticks from Fanny and Mandy and bade them watch to see how you put them in to build up a fire. The fire had been burning all day, but low, as it wasnt needed to do anything more than boil water and cook the stew Claire had made: bits of roasted possum flavoring a mass of young potatoes with carrots, peas, wild mushrooms, and onions. He glanced over his shoulder to be sure she was occupied elsewhere, then beckoned the girls in, conspiratorially.
Lets have a wee whiff, he whispered, and they giggled, pressing in against his shoulders as he reached out with the pot lifter and slowly raised the lid, letting out a puff of damp steam, scented with meat and wine and onions. The girls sniffed as hard as ever they could, and he let it come in through his nose, all the way to the back of his throat. His wame rumbled at the luscious smell, and the girls burst into giggles again at the sound, glancing guiltily round.