by J. L. Jarvis
“Jamie!”
“Nor will I sign an oath saying that Archbishop Sharp’s death was a murder. It was justice.”
“You dinnae ken that.”
“Aye, I do.”
The moonlight caught the cold pride in his face, and it made Mari shudder.
The sounds of scuffling grew louder as a brawl escalated around the corner. Hughie said, “I’d best see what that is.” He headed down the short path and around the corner.
Mari studied her brother, now a stranger before her with a look so hard that she wanted to turn from him. “Jamie, they’re hanging five men for the murder of Archbishop Sharp.”
“I ken that. And I ken that they’ve got the wrong men.”
Fearing the answer, Mari said, “How do you ken?”
“Those men were not there. I was.”
Her hand flew to her mouth. “Och, Jamie, what have you done?”
“Whisht.” He glanced down the path toward Hughie, and pulled her closer.
Mari shook her head slowly, not wanting to believe him, but she knew he was speaking the truth.
He said, “Those five accused men are innocent—and the royalists ken it.” He glanced down the path again and lowered his voice. “They’re just hanging them to make a point. It does not matter to them if they hang the right men, do you not see? They will punish the cause even more this way. Faint-hearted men will give up—signing oaths—out of fear that they could be next. But what they dinnae grasp is that they will just make the rest of us stronger. Those who cannae be moved by ideas alone will be moved by their own moral outrage. The more martyrs there are, the more people will join us.”
“But they’re innocent men. They did not choose to be martyrs. You must do something.”
“What? Give myself up?”
Mari did not like that choice either. “It’s wrong to let innocent men hang.”
Jamie said, “So not only would you have me die, but you’d have me betray those who were with me?”
“Is there no way to let the authorities ken that they’ve got the wrong men without turning yourself in?”
“Marion, dinnae be daft. Forbye, it would weaken our side, and we cannae have that. No, it’s better this way. We must get back our freedom to worship—whatever the cost.”
A brilliant light shone in his eyes, and its harshness frightened her. “Jamie, you’re weary. You’re not thinking clearly.”
“I wouldnae expect you to understand. You’re one of them now. But you’re still my sister. If you love me, you’ll help me get away from here now. There’s still a chance that someone could come forward and say I was there. If that happens, I cannae be here. They would kill me for certain.”
Mari did not know what she wanted herself. If she urged him to sign the oath, he would run from his duty to those innocent men who would die for his crime. But in saving their lives, he could die. He was her brother, she could not wish for that.
He grabbed hold of her shoulders with a bruising grip. “Help me, Marion. You must.”
“How can I?” Mari wished Callum would come back. She was frightened. This was not her Jamie.
“That guard of yours.”
“Callum?”
“Make him let me go.”
“Make him? I cannae make him do anything.”
“Oh, Marion. You could. You could talk him into it.”
“No, Jamie. I wouldnae use him like that.”
Jamie sneered. “And why not? He’s one of them.”
“Because I love him.”
“Och, wake up! He’s just using you, Marion. And when he moves on, he’ll leave you. You’re just one more dragoon’s whore in his eyes.”
Mari slapped him. He reflexively reached for her wrist and took hold with a grip that brought tears to her eyes. But more shocking than that was his hardened expression. Gone was her dear brother, replaced by a stranger.
He glared. “Dinnae be a fool, Marion. He’s one of them. They dinnae think like we do. They are brutal. They murdered my Ellen! How can you not see that? And by sleeping with them, you’re no better.” He held her wrist in disgust.
“Sleeping with them? He’s my husband!” She wrapped her fingers around her wrist, still white from the imprint of his fingers. “I don’t know you anymore.”
“Oh, aye?” He paced about, glancing back down the row of cells. “Well, I ken myself better. I’ll no longer cower under the fist of the crown. I’ve put my faith into action.” He moved closer until he was inches from her. “And what about you? You’ve turned from God—and for what? One of them—to amuse him between murdering decent people like Ellen.”
Bitter tears streamed down Mari’s cheeks as Jamie went on. “You’re no better than a royalist camp follower. And the sooner you’re rid of him, the better.”
Two hands clamped down on Jamie’s shoulders and hurled him to the ground. “You’ll not speak to her like that.”
“This is a family matter and none of your business.”
Hughie reached down and lifted Jamie off the ground by the collar. “She’s my kin, too—Clan MacDonell. And I will not allow it.”
Jamie spat in Hughie’s face.
His full anger now at the surface, Hughie landed his fist in Jamie’s jaw. With a glance back, he said, “Sorry, Mari, but I’ll not let him talk to you like that.”
In that moment’s distraction, Jamie pushed back and regained his advantage. He kneed Hughie in the groin, and landed a blow to his jaw that sent Hughie back to the ground. With a dull thud, his head hit a stone and he lost consciousness.
16
An Honorable Act
“Jamie, what have you done?” Mari looked up to see light glint from the blade in Jamie’s hand. It was Hughie’s dirk; he must have taken it during the struggle. Jamie turned over the dirk in his hand. Certain that he was ready to use it, Mari cried out and lunged. Startled, Jamie turned too fast and lost his balance. He fell with a grunt, and lay still. Mari went to him and saw the dirk stuck in his side. “Oh, Jamie!” She called out for Callum, but the brawl, though subsiding, was too loud for anyone to hear her. She turned him over to look at the wound. The blade had not gone in far, and his breathing was steady.
“Callum!”
A grunt drew her attention to Hughie. He stirred, but then went still. She reached over to check him. He moved when she touched him.
“Mari?” murmured Hughie.
“I’m sorry, Hughie, but Jamie is worse. I must tend to him.” Turning to her brother, Mari tore a wide strip from her shift and then wrapped one end around her hand. She took a deep breath, braced herself, and then pulled out the dirk and pressed the wadded bundle of cloth to his wound. As blood seeped through the fabric, she wrapped the bandage tightly about Jamie’s abdomen. As she pulled the ends into a knot, he moaned. “Are you trying to kill me?” He opened his eyes, and groaned as he put his hand on the bandage. “What happened?”
Mari’s eyes swept over his face. Even in the moonlight Jamie 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 for a moment. She looked up to see Jamie step on Hughie’s slumped body and struggle to boost himself over the wall. “Jamie, no!” 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 Mari 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 act 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.