Highland Soldiers: The Enemy

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Highland Soldiers: The Enemy Page 13

by J. L. Jarvis


  “Now, I didnae say that.” The captain reached a weathered hand out to stop him. He winced, as though Paterson’s terms were a hardship. “I suppose I could do it.”

  With an unimpressed but satisfied nod, Paterson said, “Good. I’ll have the papers drawn up.”

  With minimal pleasantries, Paterson shook Captain Teddico’s hand and showed him to the door. Teddico walked down the stairs to the street, slyly smiling as he summed up in his head how he would increase his profit by purchasing supplies from certain merchants who, for a share of the difference, would bill him on paper for more than he paid, thus increasing the costs he could charge for the prisoners’ transport. After all, he was a businessman too. He would transport the prisoners. They might not arrive quite as healthy, but cargo was cargo. Sick and hungry still put two pounds per head in his pocket. He would lose a few prisoners on the way, to be sure, but he would make up the loss in the costs saved on food and medical supplies. Captain Teddico grinned to himself. And, unlike common criminals, these Covenanters most likely came from good homes—and good homes had money. With that money, before they pulled into port, they could pay for the added expenses incurred on the trip—that is, if they still had money by then. In two months at sea, things could happen. Sometimes money was lost on the way—gambled, washed overboard, or pinched by some common thief in the hold. You just couldnae trust your fellow prisoners these days. Crying shame, but that was their problem, not his. He had a business to run. Just for good measure, he took out insurance. If he could not make profit enough from the men, the insurance would cover far more than the value of both ship and cargo. He heaved a satisfied sigh. This might turn out to be a most lucrative journey. Teddico smiled and pulled a cigar from his coat as we walked into a tavern for a pint and a meal.

  *

  A fortnight later the prisoners’ fate was announced to the guards of Greyfriars. Alex, Hughie and Charlie brought the news to Callum shortly after.

  “We’re still looking for Jamie, the wee bastard,” Alex assured him.

  Charlie chimed in, “Aye, and when we find him, he’ll wish somebody else had.”

  Alex said, “We’ll keep him alive, but only so he can take your place.”

  “We’ll not let them take you onto that ship,” added Hughie.

  Callum forced a weak smile. “We’re a wee bit short on time.” Although no one would say it, there was no escaping the truth. If they could not find Jamie, Callum would be put on the Crown and transported across the sea. Even if he survived the journey, they might never find him.

  Alex turned to practical matters. “We’ll get the money to pay for your passage. You’ll not be sold as an indentured servant.”

  “Pay the captain yourself,” said Callum, “and make sure he signs for it—twice. Keep a copy and give one to me.”

  “Aye.” They both knew Alex was too smart to trust the captain, but it bore repeating. “He may give me his word, but I’ll trust in the paper.”

  “We’ll get money for you to book passage from wherever you land back to Ireland. Hide it well. That captain and crew will do all they can to relieve you of it before you reach shore.”

  Charlie said, “We’ll find a place in Ulster and wait there with Mari.”

  Callum nodded and clenched his jaw as he tamped down his emotions. “You’re good lads.” He forced a stoic smile. “It’s Mari I worry about.”

  “We will look after Mari,” said Alex.

  Charlie said, “We’ll not leave her alone.”

  Callum lifted a brow. “Aye, that’s one of my worries.”

  Charlie balked. “Callum, she’s like a sister… a very pretty sister, but still… ”

  Callum gave Hughie an arch look. “Keep an eye on those two.”

  Hughie grinned.

  Charlie laughed. “Och. With us for company, she might not notice you’re gone until spring.”

  “I dinnae ken about that’,” said Alex. “One day with Charlie and the poor lass will dive off the docks and start swimming for the colonies.”

  Callum smiled at the thought of her meeting him there, but the humor faded. “I dinnae want her to wait for me too long. If anything happens, I want her to move on and find someone else.”

  “Good God, Callum!” said Charlie. “You’ll be back together in six months—maybe less.”

  “Aye, well it had to be said. Just take care of my Mari.” Although the others did not want to admit it to him, Callum knew—they all did—there were dangers in any sea voyage. No matter how strong the man, the sea was stronger and more brutal than any warrior in battle. For those being transported as prisoners, the dangers were worse: lack of food and water, disease, and cramped quarters.

  Callum could not speak of it in front of Hughie, but he worried that the burden of this would be too much for Mari to bear. It weighed heavily on him. He had done the right thing in taking Hughie’s place in prison. How could he have gone home to face Nellie if he’d let Hughie suffer this fate? But now the fate was his, and it would keep him from Mari. Mere weeks before, he had vowed to protect her, and now he could not. This would change her, and it would change them as a couple, assuming they ever got back together again.

  Alex gripped Callum’s shoulder and looked in his eyes. “She’s one of us now. We look after our own.”

  Callum met his direct gaze with a troubled but grateful nod.

  *

  “A fortnight?” Mari looked into Charlie’s eyes as though he could make the truth change. “And I’ll not see him before he sails?”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry, lass.” As she dissolved into tears, Charlie gripped Mari’s shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Mari. You must listen to me. We’re here. And we’re not going anywhere without you.”

  Stepping closer beside her, Hughie took her hand in his. Mari met his adoring eyes with a weak smile.

  Alex leaned back, arms folded, against the wall nearby. “And Mari, I promise—if these glaikit eejits ever let go of you, I’ll be there too. You’ll not be alone—even though, after this, you’ll be wishing you were.” He brandished his most charming grin and was rewarded with a smile.

  Mari said, “What on earth did Callum threaten you with to make you behave like this?”

  “Like what?” said Charlie, looking defensive.

  Hughie said, quite sincerely, “We’re here because we want to be.”

  Charlie held Mari’s chin gently and gave her the deep blue-eyed gaze that made ladies’ hearts flutter. “What gave us away, lass?”

  He was rewarded with a genuine laugh through her tears.

  “Och, you’ve wrung the truth out of us. The original plan was to leave you to the workhouse, but Callum twisted our arms till we promised care for you.” Charlie winked and planted a kiss on her forehead.

  Mari put her hand on his chest and playfully pushed him away. “Och, Charlie! How could you play with my emotions like that?”

  “All the lassies say that,” Alex said dryly.

  “And you!” Mari turned to Alex, her hands on her hips.

  He stopped leaning on the wall and stood straight. “Me? What have I done?”

  “You’re no better than your friends here.” Mari took his hand in both of hers, and then turned toward the others. “I love Callum for putting you up to this.”

  “Callum?” Charlie rolled his eyes. “How is it that Callum never fails to get all of the credit? And here we are, doing all of the work.”

  With an endearing grin, Mari said, “And I ken that you’d be here whether or not he asked you. And I love you all for it.” Tears unexpectedly pooled in her eyes and rendered them helpless. “Would you please excuse me?” Without waiting for an answer, she escaped to her bedroom and closed the door.

  The three men stared after her, and then at each other. Alex said, “Well, that’s grand. You try to be nice, and what do you get?”

  “Tears,” said Charlie.

  “How much can a man endure?” said Alex, moving not one muscle to escap
e.

  “For Mari?” said Hughie with a wistful look. “A good deal.”

  Several minutes later they exchanged helpless glances, paced, stood at the window, and sat restlessly. “Well, you lads can sit there. I cannot take any more of this,” said Charlie. He went to the bedroom door and knocked.

  Mari opened the door, her eyes red from weeping. Upon seeing Charlie’s concern, she said, “I was just trying to spare you all this,” waving her hands toward her tear-streaked face.

  With a wave, he dismissed it. “Och, that. I’ve seen women cry before.”

  Alex appeared. “Aye! With Charlie, they all cry sooner or later. Most often sooner.”

  Mari laughed through her tears.

  Alex went on, “‘Tis so! I’ve the shoulder to prove it. They all wind up here. Och, the wailin’ and cryin’! My poor shoulder would surely have melted by now, were it not for the powerful muscles.”

  Hughie smirked. “I’m feeling sick all of a sudden.”

  Alex shrugged. “It is merely the truth. I’ve the perfect shoulder for crying here, hen. I am at your disposal.”

  Mari looked from Alex, to Charlie, to Hughie, and shook her head, smiling. “You’re all daft.”

  They grinned as though this were not news to them.

  “But I’m lucky to have you!”

  Hughie took Mari’s hand and led her to the sitting room. They all sat in their usual seats, leaving Callum’s and Duncan’s chairs empty. The settled into quiet talk about what they could do to help Callum. There was little. Jamie’s name came up, but, concealing their disdain, the men took care to change the subject. They turned their attention to deciding which provisions Callum could take on the voyage, even though they all knew the chances of him keeping such things to himself would be slim. As they talked, a knock sounded. Alarmed, Mari rose, but before she could go to the door, Alex protectively pulled her behind him and opened the door himself.

  Charlie led Mari away from the door and was now in the process of defending himself against Mari, who insisted that he was being far too protective. He soon stepped aside.

  “Duncan, you’re home!” Relief flooded her heart as she held out her arms and took hold of his hands. She took in the sight of him. He returned her gaze, but his was dark and distant. Her pleasure at seeing him faded as Callum’s plight came to the fore. “Duncan, so much has happened.”

  “Aye, I’ve been to see Callum.”

  Mari felt a pang of jealousy. She wished it had been she who had seen him. She missed Callum so. But Duncan was his close friend. “He must have been so glad to see you.”

  “Aye, he was that—as was I to see him.” Duncan’s face revealed his concern and other emotions, which he soon checked as he looked back at Mari. “I wish there were more I could do, darlin’.”

  His concern touched her deeply. After being away for so long, it was good to see him. His concern comforted her. Without warning, the tears came and she crumbled into his arms. Duncan held to his chest as she wept and the others looked on. An uncharacteristically subdued mood settled over Alex as he studied them both, but with particular attention to Duncan. With a sudden sweep of his arm, he circled Mari’s waist and spun her about. “I ken just what you need, hen. Wait here.” He led her to a chair and gave her shoulders a steadying squeeze. Then he left and returned moments later with a bottle and some glasses. “There’s no problem that a wee dram cannae help.”

  For the rest of the evening, they kept Mari’s glass full and cheered her with lively stories. Even Duncan joined in with some stories of his travels, as eager as any for the distraction. But although thoughts of Callum’s plight went unvoiced, he remained foremost on everyone’s mind.

  *

  Mari stood at the window and gazed absently down to the street. A fortnight had passed with no sign of a pardon for Callum, and no sign of Jamie. The Crown was to set sail on the morrow. She picked up her pen and wrote.

  My Callum,

  My heart has been yours. You ken the moment it happened. Since then you have kept my heart safe. You are in my soul. I feel strong with you there. The double-hearted charm I pin into this letter is a trinket I bought from a luckenbooth near St. Giles. It has little value, so no one will take it from you on your journey. The value it holds is but this: It rests against my heart as I write. When you feel this against you, feel my heart there as well.

  Your Mari

  Mari folded the letter and held it to her chest. And like it, I am broken without you. Mari wept until strong hands grasped her shoulders. She looked up, startled.

  “Come with me,” said Duncan.

  “Duncan, I cannae.”

  His gaze bore through the deep sadness in her eyes. “You can, and you must.”

  Something in his intense look cut through her sorrow. “What is it?”

  “Someone owed me a favor.”

  “Callum?”

  Duncan nodded.

  Duncan left out the part about how he had been out half the night playing cards with the guards at Greyfriars until his chance came. Well, technically it was not purely chance. He had learned a few things out at sea, one of which was how to play cards, and—he learned this the hard way—how to lose to a cheater. After one such game, having pulled his sgian dubh from his sock, Duncan offered the winner a choice: one involved the sharp edge of his sgian dubh; the other was to show him his card tricks.

  At the time, it was not in Duncan’s mind to cheat others, but instead to detect when others tried to cheat him. When he came home and saw Mari, he could see no way around it. Callum could not have visitors—unless a guard looked the other way. But why would he? After what had happened to Callum, no one was willing to do any favors—unless they were forced. To that end, he could have scaled the wall and leapt down, sword in hand, interrupting their card game. Or he could join them and win. The only problem was that he had worked there with most of those lads, and he liked them. Except for that one Mackenzie. Cheating was the least a MacDonell could do to a Mackenzie. A deck of cards, a few drams, and a few hours later Mackenzie came up short. Duncan let him pay off his debt with a visit. He would go home, get some sleep, and return the next night when Mackenzie was on duty again.

  *

  Mari ran to the bedroom. She dipped a cloth into the water basin and pressed the damp cloth to her eyes. “Och! I look awful.”

  “You look bonnie.”

  She lifted her eyes to catch a soft smile of approval from Duncan. His gaze lingered only a moment before he offered his arm.

  Mari took it, but released it with a gasp. “Wait!” She rushed to the window and retrieved her letter with the heart inside.

  Duncan stood watching her, smiling. How long had it been since he had seen her so happy? He was glad to have done this for her. She donned her cloak and came close to him, lifting her eyes to meet his. The love shone from her eyes. Love for Callum.

  “Duncan!” She smiled, amused by his distraction. Slipping her hand into his, she said, “Dinnae just stand there! Let’s go!” She headed for the door, tugging him along with her.

  Chapter 14

  Dark clouds overhead matched the dismal gray stones of Greyfriars Kirkyard and kept it hidden from the sun and its warmth. The damp clung to the weather-streaked walls as though tears had been etched in the stone. Oak trees now bare for the winter waved misshapen limbs over frost-covered grass. A cruel wind that whipped up the hill from the sea caught Mari’s cloak. Duncan circled his arm about her, holding her close to shield her from the bitter wind’s bite. Along a curved path they hastened, past the dank gravestones and ominous mausoleums. At a tall iron gate, they came to a stop.

  Mari looked up to Duncan as he gave the guard on duty a nod. The guard walked down a path between the open-air cells, past shadowy faces that peered out from the dark. Minutes later, at the far end of the walk, a prisoner rounded the corner and walked toward her.

  She dared not hope it was Callum, and then as he drew near a small part of her wished it were not. His gai
t was too weary and uneven, and his back was bent over, made weaker by hunger and cold. He hurried as well as he could and reached through the bars. Unable to embrace, they grasped onto as much as the iron bars would allow. Duncan walked a ways down the sloped path to the street. There he leaned his shoulder against the thick trunk of an oak.

  Callum touched Mari’s face and pressed his lips to her mouth. He kissed her, and kissed her again. When he stopped, he took in every feature, desperate to sear her into his memory. Callum rested his forehead against hers. His voice broke as he said, “My love. I cannot hold you like I would.”

  Mari touched his beard. He inhaled as she trailed fingers down his strong neck to his collar. “You’re so cold.”

  Callum lifted her chin with stiff and trembling fingers. “Mari.” His eyes swept over her face and he kissed her. His lips barely moved from her mouth as he whispered, “I’ve dreamt of your skin.” He slipped his hands inside her cloak to the warmth and the softness. “But for these bars, I would take you right here.”

  “I would let you,” she whispered into his neck.

  Brushing his mouth on her cheek, he circled her waist until the bars stopped him. Mari leaned her whole body against the cold iron bars, but he could not reach around. Instead, he slid his hands from her waist up her sides until he felt every curve with his palm. Mari sighed. Callum buried his face in her neck and moaned. She leaned her head down against his and said softly, “I’ll be here waiting until you come back.”

  His head shot up, as he fiercely said, “No.” He took her face in his hands and looked sternly into her eyes. “If I am not back in a year, you must go on without me. I will not have you waste your life waiting for me.”

  “You can say what you will, Callum MacDonell, but I’ll do as I please.”

 

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