Outlander aka Cross Stitch - Gabaldon Diana - Страница 102

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There was a long silence, broken only by the shiftings and creakings of horses and harness. Then he held out his hand, palm up.

“Give it to me.” When I hesitated, he said impatiently, “I’m no going to use it on ye. Give it to me!”

He held the dirk by the blade, upright so that the rising sun caught the moonstone in the hilt and made it glow. Holding the dagger like a crucifix, he recited something in Gaelic. I recognized it from the oath-taking ceremony in Colum’s hall, but he followed it with the English translation for my benefit:

“I swear on the cross of my Lord Jesus, and by the holy iron which I hold, that I give ye my fealty and pledge ye my loyalty. If ever my hand is raised against you in rebellion or in anger, then I ask that this holy iron may pierce my heart.” He kissed the dirk at the juncture of haft and tang, and handed it back to me.

“I don’t make idle threats, Sassenach,” he said, raising one brow, “and I don’t take frivolous vows. Now, can we go to bed?”

Dougal was waiting for us at the sign of the Red Boar, impatiently pacing to and fro outside.

“Made it, did ye?” he asked, watching with approval as I dismounted without assistance, staggering only slightly. “Gallant lass – ten miles without a whimper. Get up to your bed then; ye’ve earned it. Jamie and I will stable the horses.” He patted me, very gently, on the rump in dismissal. I was only too glad to follow his suggestion, and was asleep almost before my head touched the pillow.

I didn’t stir when Jamie crawled in beside me, but woke suddenly in the late afternoon, convinced that there was something important I had forgotten.

“Horrocks!” I exclaimed suddenly, sitting bolt upright in bed.

“Hah?” Jamie, startled out of a sound sleep, shot sideways out of bed, ending on the floor in a crouch, hand on the dirk he had left on top of his piled clothes. “What?” he demanded, staring wildly around the room. “What is it?”

I stifled a giggle at the sight of him, crouched naked on the floor, red hair standing on end like quills.

“You look like a fretful porpentine,” I said.

He gave me a dirty look and rose to his feet, replacing the dirk on the stool that held his clothes.

“You couldna wait ’til I woke to tell me that?” he inquired. “You thought it would make more impression if ye woke me out of a sound sleep by shouting ‘Hedgehog!’ in my ear?”

“Not ‘hedgehog,’ ” I explained. “Horrocks. I remembered all at once that I’d forgotten to ask you about him. Did you find him?”

He sat down on the bed and sank his head in his hands. He rubbed his face vigorously, as though to restore circulation.

“Oh, aye,” he said through the muffling fingers. “Aye, I found him.”

I could tell from the tone of voice that the deserter’s information had not been good.

“Would he not tell you anything after all?” I asked sympathetically. That had always been a possibility, though Jamie had gone prepared to part with not only his own money, and some provided by Dougal and Colum, but even his father’s ring if necessary.

Jamie lay back on the bed beside me, staring up at the ceiling.

“No,” he said. “No, he told me all right. And at a reasonable price.”

I rolled up onto an elbow in order to look down at his face.

“Well, then?” I demanded. “Who did shoot the sergeant-major?”

He looked up at me and smiled, a trifle grimly.

“Randall,” he said, and shut his eyes.

“Randall?” I said blankly. “But why?”

“I don’t know,” he said, eyes still shut. “I could guess, perhaps, but it doesna much matter. Damn-all chance of proving it.”

I had to agree that this was true. I sank back on the bed beside him and stared up at the black oak beams of the low ceiling.

“What can you do then?” I asked. “Go to France? Or perhaps” – a bright thought occurred to me – “perhaps to America? You could likely do well in the New World.”

“Across the ocean?” A brief shudder ran through him. “No. No, I couldna do that.”

“Well, what then?” I demanded, turning my head to look at him. He opened one eye enough to give me a jaundiced look.

“I’d thought for a start that I might get another hour’s sleep,” he said, “but apparently not.” Resigned, he pulled himself up in bed, leaning against the wall. I had been too tired to pull the bedclothes off before retiring, and there was a suspicious black spot on the quilt near his knee. I kept a wary eye on it as he talked.

“You’re right,” he agreed, “we could go to France.” I started, having momentarily forgotten that whatever he decided to do, I was now included in the decision.

“But there isna that much for me there,” he said, idly scratching his thigh. “Only soldiering, and that’s no life for you. Or to Rome, to join King James’s court. That might be managed; I’ve some Fraser uncles and cousins with a foot in that camp, who would help me. I’ve no great taste for politics, and less for princes, but aye, it’s a possibility. I’d rather try first to clear myself in Scotland, though. If I did, at the worst I might end up as a small crofter in the Fraser lands; at best, I might be able to go back to Lallybroch.” His face clouded, and I knew he was thinking of his sister. “For myself,” he said softly, “I wouldna go, but it isn’t only me anymore.”

He looked down at me and smiled, his hand gently smoothing my hair. “I forget sometimes, that there’s you now, Sassenach,” he said.

I felt extraordinarily uncomfortable. I felt like a traitor, in fact. Here he was, making plans that would affect his entire life, taking my comfort and safety into account, when I had been doing my best to abandon him completely, dragging him into substantial danger in the process. I had meant none of it, but the fact remained. Even now, I was thinking that I should try to talk him out of going to France, as that would carry me farther away from my own goal: the stone circle.

“Is there any way to stay in Scotland, though?” I asked, looking away from him. I thought the black spot on the quilt had moved, but I wasn’t sure. I fixed my eyes on it, staring hard.

Jamie’s hand traveled under my hair and began idly to fondle my neck.

“Aye,” he said thoughtfully. “There may be. That’s why Dougal waited up for me; he’s had some news.”

“Really? What sort?” I turned my head to look up at him again; the movement brought my ear within reach of his fingers, and he began to stroke lightly around it, making me want to arch my neck and purr like a cat. I repressed the impulse, though, in favor of finding out what he meant to do.

“A messenger from Colum,” he said. “He didna think to find us here, but he passed Dougal on the road by accident. Dougal’s to return at once to Leoch, and leave Ned Gowan to manage the rest of the rents. Dougal’s suggested we should go with him.”

“Back to Leoch?” It wasn’t France, but it wasn’t a lot better. “Why?”

“There’s a visitor expected shortly, an English noble that’s had dealings wi’ Colum before. He’s a powerful man, and it might be he could be persuaded to do something for me. I’ve not been tried or condemned on the charge of murder. He might be able to have it dismissed, or arrange to have me pardoned.” He grinned wryly. “It goes a bit against the grain to be pardoned for something I’ve not done, but it’s better than being hanged.”

“Yes, that’s true.” The spot was moving. I squinted, trying to focus on it. “Which English noble is it?”

“The Duke of Sandringham.”

I jerked upright with an exclamation.

“What is it, Sassenach?” Jamie asked, alarmed.

I pointed a trembling finger at the black spot, which was now proceeding up his leg at a slow but determined pace.

“What’s that?!” I said.

He glanced at it, and casually flicked it off with a fingernail.

“Oh, that? It’s only a bedbug, Sassenach. Nothing to-”

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