Chapter 38 - Blàr na h-Eaglaise Brice (Falkirk)

Lizzy looked back at the twin lines of nearly two hundred men following behind them. There had been a few desertions, but by in large it seemed the men feared more the wrath of their master than they did dying in battle. At camp Jamie and Lizzy had worked with them, and the women who had come, the few that had, to use the weapons they had.

It took nearly a week of hard marching to reach Falkirk. It was cold, snow and rain falling about and very little sunlight. The young Simon had gone to track the deserters to meet up with them at Falkirk within a few days. He was young and passionate, but also scared. His battle hardened nephew seemed to help him a little

Even as bleak as it was, the group seemed in fairly high spirits. Long may it last, Lizzy thought as she helped the women cook for the group. The food was simple, but hearty. Lizzy seemed to be able to make goods for the walking stomachs out of what little there was. It was filling enough.

They reached Falkirk where the Prince and Lord George Murray had moved the army to on a very wet and cold day on January 14 in the Year of our Lord, 1746. As an officer, Jamie was billeted to the house with the others, with Lizzy in tow and Fergus with them. Murtagh saw to the men.

Jamie walked to see to the Prince. Charles was seated by a fire, Lord Murray was with him as were Andrew MacDonald and Robert Chisholm. O'Sullivan was not among the group, for which Lizzy was grateful. She disliked him. Jamie walked in and the men nodded to him, but at the presence of Lizzy, the Prince himself rose to his feet to come to her.

Jamie bowed and Charles touched his face softly in welcome, but then turned to the mother of his godchild who had not lived. "Do you keep well? You look worn." He said softly, touching her cheek affectionately. He gasped. "Christ you are as cold as ice. Come here!" He took her small hand and led her to the fire to warm herself, Jamie following, his plaid still about his shoulders to ward off the chill.

Lizzy smiled a little gratefully as she rubbed her hands. They were cracked and ached as did her hip, but she was not about to let on about that. Charles leaned to her and offered her the cup of burgundy had been drinking. She smiled gratefully and dipped her head. "Tell me, beloved wife of my trusted friend. What news?"

She cocked her head. "From my brother?" She asked. "None sadly. We do bring you 200 men with Simon the Younger of Lovat." She took a sip of the burgundy and sighed as she let it wash over her tongue.

He sighed. "Mark me, I would have his answer to my cause."

She looked at him. "You have written him?"

"Aye."

"He had pledged neutrality, my Prince." She said.

He nodded. "So did Lovat and yet there are men here."

She flicked her eyes to Jamie who stood near and then back. "Young Simon convinced them to come with his bravery it would seem." She said.

He nodded. "I would meet this…cousin of yours James?" Charles looked at Jamie.

Jamie shook his head. "He is a hauf uncle. Son 'n' heir o' mah grandsire."

The Prince nodded. "Is he here?"

"He will be here in a day or two." Lizzy said. She smiled prettily at the Prince. "What news of the British?"

"Lord Hawley sits across the moor. He does nothing, but mark me, I will win a battle on this field before the month is out. We cannot progress since he and his men sit there, mocking us." The Prince said looking out the window at the swirling snow that was yet to stick on the ground. "John is finding supplies. Our supply lines are being broken by dragoon raids."

Lizzy smiled a little. "Raid them back."

Lord Murray chuckled. "A woman's sicht oan battle fur ye ."

"No." Lizzy stepped between the Prince and Lord Murray. "We need supplies. If they do not strike. So do they." She smiled. "Raid their supply lines and force Lord Hawley's hand." She smiled. "We will gain what we need in two ways."

Lord Murray stared at her a moment as did everyone else in the room. Prince Charles looked around her at Jamie and Lord Murray who were exchanging looks. "Actually, th' lassie haes a gey clever idea." He took a breath. "This wid be a jab fur th' scouts na? as ah recall dougal mackenzie 'n' his men hae th' hielan savagery wantit."

"Nae sae muckle savagery." Jamie said lifting a hand in defense of his uncle. "Bit ability 'n' surprise."

Lord Murray nodded.

The Prince nodded. "Tell your man to make use of his stealth for me, James."

Jamie nodded and bowed leaving. "Ah wull see it dane, mah prince."

Lizzy also turned to leave, but the Prince's hand shot out and caught her elbow. "No, you stay." He said. He sat down and waved a hand. "The rest of you, leave us, Lord Murray you may stay."

The others left and Lizzy took a breath as the door shut behind them.

"Whit brother dae ye refer tae?" Lord Murray asked. "How come wid he be important tae oor cause? she is th' sassenach born guidwife o' a Highlander. She is a turncoat tae her ain fowk."

Prince Charles smiled into his burgundy. "She is not English, Lord Murray."

"No?" Lord Murray asked.

She took a breath and shook her head. "No." She moved to the Prince's desk and sat down.

Lord Murray watched her in odd fascination as she began to write a letter on parchment. "Yer a bold lassie tae sit thare, bold as brass, wi' yer prince thare." He said nodding to Prince Charles nearby who was sitting elegantly with one leg crossed over the other.

She looked up at him. "Do you know what power is, Lord Murray?" she asked.

He blinked. "Whit th' almighty kin uise tae hulp us win?"

She smiled more. "Aye, but I meant earthly power."

He nodded. "Th' power o' princes 'n' kings tae shape th' world."

"And do you know who truly are the ones who have the power?"

He arched an eyebrow. "Wha else wid?"

Lizzy sat back, looking for the first time, not like a Highlander wife, but a noble, watching him with an oddly haughty expression or amusement. "It is not the King, Lord Murray." She smiled. "It is his wife, his sisters, his daughters…" She sat forward. "Women can make or break a war Lord Murray."

"Surely thay cannae hae sic power."

"No?" She smiled. "Whose ties through her body and name can raise an army or make peace? Whose body carries his line? Whose soft words can turn him toward favor or against in a bedroom where no other can hear or speak word?" Her eyes danced. "It is always the game of men to think such women are merely there and have no influence, but we are the ones who you wish to charm, not the man who is before us because society dictates it."

"And God." The Prince said. "God ordained we protect women, but it was women who had the first sin."

"Aye, but Adam did not abandon his wife did he?" She said. "Well he could have, but he stayed because of the power women hold."

Lord Murray went pale.

Prince Charles rose to his feet and cocked his head. "I am starting to be both grateful and saddened I never had a sister." He smiled at Lizzy as he walked to her side. He bent and kissed her brow lightly. "My Lady Broch Tuarach is a secret weapon, if you will, Lord George." He looked down at the letter. "Do you think he will heed you letter?"

"He will at least read it. A sister's plea will at least be heard. He will not allow me to suffer at the hands of anyone, even his "allies"." She signed her name in a very elegant way. She rose to her feet and lifted a piece from the chess board near her and tossed it to Lord Murray. "Never underestimate the women in your fold Lord Murray."

She curtsied deeply in the way of court before she walked from the room knowing Charles would see her letter sent.

He opened his hand.

It was the queen.

Lord Murray's hand clenched on the piece and he smiled. "Weel played lass."

Charles lifted the piece from his hand and smiled as he watched the retreating skirts duck around the door and out into the hallway.

"Mah Prince…" Lord Murray looked at him. "Wha is she?"

"She is wife of James Fraser, my trusted friend."

"Bit she is far mair isn't she."

"Yes." The Prince moved to look at the letter that Lizzy had written. "She is." He touched the elegant script. "She could have abandoned our cause, but she has not. She supports us with her very soul." He looked up at Lord Murray.

"Bit her brother…is an British milord? a general?"

"I told you she is not English." The Prince sighed and closed his eyes a moment. The code he had come to know well since James and Lizzy had taught him. She had written asking for men, gold, and aide to defeat the English betrayers who abandoned him in his war. "Mark me, her brother is not a general. He is better." He opened his eyes. "He is a King."

"If her master is a king, how come does she hulp ye?"

"Because she knows my cause is righteous and has the favor of God himself." He took a breath. "James was right. A sister is a jewel and I am happy to have her in my crown even if she is merely burrowed until I have the throne back for my father." He took a breath. "Speak to no one of her position. She is merely Lady Broch Turarch."

Lord Murray nodded. "Understood mah Prince."

ZzZ

Lizzy found Jamie and Fergus in their room. She sat down on a cloth wrapped chair and dust flew up. She gasped startled, but Fergus looked amused. Jamie had seen a good fire going and she reached down to remove her shoes, rubbing her feet.

For two days the weather was bad and no one flinched.

It was late morning when Jamie and Lord Murray decided to agree and force the enemy hand before reinforcements could be rallied from Bannockburn or Stirling. Hawley had sent most of his force to Stirling to reclaim the castle, not realizing that across the moor was not only the small group of what he knew to be the divided force of the Jacobites under Lord Murray, but also the full of the army, some 8000 men to his 7000.

Lizzy had readied the ladies for the casualties as the rain began to fall hard. She had been granted a stable to use as her field hospital. The day before she had set men to cleaning the stalls and putting in fresh hay for the injured.

It was midday when Lizzy heard the rippled sound of musket fire. The women with her froze.

The Battle had begun.

ZzZ

Injured came in at a steady pace.

Lizzy was ready for them and it was not long before her dress was again stained with the blood of many and her arms coated crimson from hand to elbow. The same with several of the ladies there.

The women, most had been through Prestonpans, knew well how to sort injuries. Lizzy dealt with the most severe and also helped set breaks. Several British injured were also brought. Lizzy, not having severe to attend at that point, tended to them.

She heard there were many captured British who had surrendered after the brutality of the Highlander attack on the dragoons.

It was not until dark that Jamie returned to her, helping Hamish Macbeth come into the hospital. The men of the Jacobite injured were less than expected. Less than one hundred and less than fifty dead. Lizzy had found most of the wounds to be fairly minor as well, though there were a couple she was not sure would survive.

The rain was harder now, beating relentlessly on the stable thatch as Jamie helped his Lallybroch man sit down near the fire. Hamish was a big man, nearly Jamie's height, which was rare for a Scot, but twice as broad in the shoulder. He was one of Jamie's favorites.

Lizzy could see blood at his ankle that bad oozed from some injury higher.

Jamie looked at his comrade. "Howfur is it man?"

"It wull dae." Hamish said, a little tense.

He allowed his commander to shift his kilt away enough to see the problem. Jamie and the three men near shuddered as Lizzy looked at the injury from under Jamie's arm. She was still hidden from Hamish by the comforting bulk of her husband who was stained with blood, but did not seem to have anything seriously wrong with him. Hamish, however, had had a pike or saber cut him in an arch against his groin causing his scrotum to be cleaved revealing one testicle that looked like a pink egg out of shell, smooth, but otherwise uninjured itself.

Lizzy swallowed.

Jamie patted Hamish's leg reassuringly. "Dae nae worry none. Ye wull be a faither yit."

Hamish nodded. "Whit ye aff tae dae?"

"Weel ye hae yer choice oan that." Jamie said as he lifted one of Lizzy's stitching needles which he then tried to thread without much success. "Ye kin either hae me dae it or mah guidwife." He said still trying to thread the needle.

Hamish watched and grimaced. "Ah think ah wid ower hae yer lass, sur."

Jamie nodded handing the needle to his wife who stepped forward. "Sae wid ah, man."

Lizzy threaded the needle easily and then looked at Jamie as she lifted a bottle to Jamie. The mixture, Jamie knew well from his own experience, was like having fire on a wound. It was a mix of grain alcohol and cold water from a burn nearby to clean away the blood. Alcohol seemed to retard rot and so Lizzy had taken to using it to keep wounds clear of gangrene with a fair amount of success despite the weather being conducive to rot.

Jamie put a knee to Hamish's belly. "Better ye than me, auld mukker." He said and poured it on the man's injury. The bellow from the man shook the rafters and Lizzy sighed, going to work as Jamie sat by watching and making sure Hamish sat still.

Lizzy worked as quickly as she could. The testicle was intact and stitching it back into its home was simple enough. Harder was the rest of the cut against his groin and thigh which she attended to as well. She was on her last stitch, face dangerously close to Hamish's impressive manhood that was limp through much of the proceedings, but he began to harden as her soft breath was felt there.

As she finished her pushed his kilt down, red faced and walked from the room under his own power away from the woman who had touched and seen to his most intimate area. Jamie let him go at a nod from Lizzy who smiled in amusement into the small bucket of water she was washing the blood from her hands in.

Jamie then took her by the hand and led her to the ladder that led to the hay loft. She went up first, followed by her husband. Once there, they found the dry hay to be of comfort. They did not make love, but held each other as they wrapped in his plaid for warmth as the rain fell hard about them.

It was not until morning that Lord Murray and the Prince found that the day was theirs.

300 or more men of the British lines were lying dead or dying in the mud, the rain drowning out their cries for help or their mothers. Lizzy walked, kilting her skirt up to her knees as she walked, barefoot, knowing shoes would be lost in the mud as she went, seeing to the unfortunates who remained alive. Many of them were dragoons who had fallen to the Highlander savagery that they had not been expecting.

Jamie told her, as they walked about and she checked the dead and dying for whom she could save and whom not, that the highlanders had waited for the dragoons to get within pistol range and then fired a volley, taking eighty dragoons down. They then set about attacking the horses, causing the rider to become easier to pick off after the mount was dead or dying. A lot of times, the mount falling and in death throws would do injury to its rider, more than the highlanders. However, the unusual tactic was giving the Highlander battalions even more of a savage reputation.

Those who could be seen to were loaded into a cart to be taken to the field hospital. Those who could not, were allowed to die in peace as the rain fell about them. Lizzy had helped two on their journey. Both had belly wounds and would die a slow agonizing death otherwise. Jamie had stood, watching as she stabbed cleanly through their hearts. Both had thanked her, softly, with their last breaths, calling her angel.

And that was what she was an angel of mercy to some and an angel of death to others. The Jacobite witch was gaining a reputation herself.

The day was again the Jacobites.

Again, another general had been sent back to King George with his tail between his legs.

ZzZ

The troops then traveled to Bannockburn.

It was February when Lizzy was starting to lose patience with not going to pursue the enemy and have him on the run. Jamie was with her as was Prince Charles or so Jamie claimed.

Lizzy was seeing to men that had been injured during a raid when she was summoned to the war council. This was the first meeting since Falkirk. The army was restless, but the army had failed to take advantage of the victory it had had. Lord Murray and O'Sullivan had claimed they needed supplies, armaments, and needed to find a place to secure for the rest of February and March as the worst of the weather came to pass. The British, they claimed, would be doing the same.

Jamie stood in a war meeting watching the men about him as he stood behind Charles near the fire. Lizzy knocked politely and as allowed to enter. The men looked at her as she walked forward. Only Lord Murray, the Prince, and Jamie seemed not to be ruffled by her presence there.

Her footfalls echoed in the room as the ten other men looked at her. She was dressed in a simple plaid dress, knit coverlets over her hands and lower arms, a shawl about her shoulders. Her thick hair was pulled back in a rather severe style she favored when working as a field physician, whose skills, even the male doctors, had to admit were uncanny.

"Whit's a wifie daein' 'ere?" Young Simon asked.

"Ah wis aboot tae ask th' identical quaistion." Gordon Campbell asked.

"She is here at my invitation." Prince Charles said nodding to her as she came to him and curtsied to him. He cupped her cheek affectionately and nodded for her to sit in the chair nearby. She did so, settling regally, Lord Murray noticed. Not a Scottish lady, but a royal supporting another royal, though none here knew it save for the Prince, Lord Broch Tuarach, and himself.

The men seemed ruffled to have her there in a council of war. This was not the business of women, but clearly she was a favorite of the Prince, as Jamie, her husband was, but the fact she was able to sit in the presence of the Prince, told them, she was a force to be reckoned with. O'Sullivan narrowed his eyes at her and she merely stared back a moment before looking up, almost adoringly at her prince standing near her, her own husband close by.

Most of the men there knew that the child she had given birth to before Prestonpans, named Faith, had not lived, but had been seen as a good omen by Charles who had been named her godfather, especially when the Jacobites won Prestonpans so heartily. The child had been taken, but her mother, forever had a place of honor with Charles.

Charles turned to her. He was wearing a cream colored overcoat, wearing his Stuart plaid which seemed so flashy and red compared to the muted plaids of the highlanders she as used to. He touched her cheek gently. "Welcome Katie." He said softly so only she could hear.

She smiled up at him.

"Yer ryle highness. A'm aware howfur loupin this mist be fur ye." Lord George said, "Bit th' truth often is. We mist fin' suitable ground fur winter."

"And I say we shall not." Charles took a breath and then coughed a little into a handkerchief he held. "I shall pursue Hawley." He lifted a troop marker from the map on the table. "The British are within our grasp. We can crush them." He sighed. "All we have to do is reach out and take what is ours." He looked at O'Sullivan. "John. This is no time for silence. Speak man."

Jamie stood near the fireplace, his wife near, watching the men silently. Jamie was watching the men and her.

"I am sorry, your royal highness." O'Sullivan began. "As you know, you generals are seldom of like mind, but I fear, in this instance, we speak with one voice." He said drawing himself up as Lord Murray nodded.

Charles looked between them. "I must say, this is a damned inconvenient time to be conciliatory." He said looking at his quartermaster.

Jamie stepped forward after casting a look to Lizzy. "Ah wid say th' identical tae ye, m' laird general." He said looking at Lord Murray as he crossed to his prince's side.

Lord Murray sighed. "Fraser! ye hae proved tae possess a sound military mynd, bit ah wull nae hae mah decision challenged by a junior officer, sur." He said as Jamie turned fully to him. "Dae ah mak' masell clear sur?"

"'n' whit o' oor prince's decision?" Jamie asked boldly eyes flicking to Charles who looked back at him and nodded a little. "Dae a' nae serve him 'n' his noble cause?" He looked at the men before him. He leaned forward. "Ah wid order tae follow hawley 'n' tak' auld reekie herself fur oor wintering. We ur, bit a week fae reaching that toon 'n' noo ye wid prefer tae sit 'n' dae hee haw 'ere?" He demanded. "We cuid beat hawley thare mibbie 'n' be safe 'n' taps aff…"

Beside him Charles coughed a little and smiled. "Seven days gentlemen. Seven days stand between us and God's will."

"It's nae th' seven days that concern me." Lord Murray said pointing to the map. "It's th' three british armies that we ken ur aboot, bit we don't bloody ken whaur ony o' thaim ur."

"We ur unlikely tae catch up wi` a' three at wance, m' laird." Jamie said.

Charles looked back at him. A messenger came into the room and handed dispatches to O'Sullivan, the Prince, Lord Murray, and the lady who was seated quietly watching the heated debate.

"Bit if we ur shrewd 'n' jammy…" Jamie said looking at Lord Murray. "We micht be able tae slip passed thaim a' 'n' tak' th' capital afore a'body is th' wiser."

"Aye." Andrew MacDonald said. "Th' british hae 10,000 troops wi' mair oan th' wey." He said as Charles turned away in disgust as he patted Jamie's shoulder. "We hae a mere five."

"We also have ten, Andrew or did you fail at math as much as you failed at making intelligent sons?" Lizzy said looking up from the parchment she held.

Charles smirked a little as did Jamie, but then they looked back at the MacDonald who had paled a little at her barb.

"Aye we ur nae amassed as o' yit. Yin muckle battle we wid be finished, tae wabbit tae carry oan."

Lizzy looked up at Charles. "Are you a coward then, MacDonald? The MacDonald I knew at least had some backbone. Are you just ready to conceded now then, even after our two victories?"

All the men looked at her startled. Andrew MacDonald took a breath.

Jamie stepped forward. "War haes risk. This shuid come at na surprise. Bit if we bade 'ere 'n' dae hee haw. A' th' hawp that currently resides in th' hearts 'n' souls o' th' men, wull evaporate, lik' smoke. It wull be filled wi' doubt 'n' fear."

Lizzy stood up, joining her husband. "It is not my place in the council among milords, but with your permission, your royal highness, I would speak my mind." As if she had not already, but Charles was watching her as she looked back and he nodded, smiling.

She lifted the paper she held and laid it down on the table, using a dirk to hold it out. "We will win this war. God is on our side. And so is the King of Prussia." She turned the paper and pushed it to Lord Murray.

Lord Murray raised it to read. He looked up at her, shocked. "Howfur did ye guide this?"

She smiled a little and looked back at the Prince. "The King, is also one who feels that God is righteous. He also is feeling the sting of betrayal." She looked at Lord Murray.

O'Sullivan looked at Lord Murray. "What is it?"

"Mah Lady Broch Tuarach Haes managed tae convince her countryman tae send us his airmie tae crush th' british 'n' unite wi' scootlund 'n' france as allies." Lord Murray took a breath. "He marches fur auld reekie as soon as he kin cross th' channel."

Charles looked heavenward. "Praise be to God."

"But we risk our supply lines if we move." O'Sullivan said. "And the channel is dangerous this time of year. He may never make it across before spring."

Prince Charles sneezed. "Mark me, we risk freezing here if we do not." He took a breath and moved to the table, looking as Jamie paced to the back of the room and Lizzy stood beside him. "Would I have known you nine years ago." He murmured to her, lifting her hand to his lips.

Jamie smiled a little. How would her life had been had she been his wife? She would have not been so abused. She would likely be in Italy now with a bairn or two. And she likely would have been very unhappy, but her dowry could have funded this war entirely and she would have been a Princess. No, God had seen her right with Jamie, though she had suffered for her love.

The Prince then looked at the men. "This is why I am here. Why I sailed from France to raise an army. This army. It was God's will that I do so and since then his hand has ever been with us." He said, voice cracking with emotion. He leaned forward on the table. "This precious chance of victory…if we spurn his divine gift, there is no guarantee it will be offered again." He stepped back. "So is there no man among you willing to stand by your prince, your rightful king, and your God."

No one moved a moment. Lizzy was watching before she too stepped back, looking at the Prince a moment. Lizzy took a breath and stepped to him. "I may have been foreign born, your royal highness, but all that I have is yours."

She curtsied deeply and Charles took a breath as he cupped her chin, raising her up. "You need not bow to me, my lady. In fact, mark me, it is me who is in your debt." He kissed her cheek and then looked at the men. "No other. A woman would hold fast to faith and no other?"

Jamie walked forward from the back of the room, holding his sword, he looked at the others, then the prince and his wife, and he knelt at the Prince's side, bowing his head in total submission. Lizzy smiled. The laird and lady Broch Tuarach and their large group of fighting men were with the Prince.

The Prince held out his hand and Jamie reached, taking it, he kissed it, pressing his forehead to the back of it a moment before releasing it. He rose to his feet and moved to stand by the fire. Lizzy joined him, looking with him at the men.

The Prince took a breath. "One man. One man. Is that all I can count on? A man and his beautiful lady who will stand with me until the very end?" He rubbed a hand over his face and coughed. "One man…" He stepped closer and slammed his hand down. "It is INTOLERABLE!" He cried making everyone flinch. Lizzy perhaps most of all as she stood, hands before her. Jamie stepped closer to her, but did not touch her even as he watched. "I would rather be run through by a British bayonet and have my body buried in an unmarked grave than turn back when we have come this far!" He looked at the men before him. "But I see now that I am betrayed by both friends and allies. It is well enough I am making new allies it would seem!" He stepped forward to O'Sullivan who stood, not looking at him, flinching a little. "You do what you must, but may God damn you to hell for it!" He stepped back to Lizzy and she dropped into the seat as he suddenly was seized in a coughing fit. Lord Murray moved to see to the Prince, but Charles waved him off as he reached for Lizzy.

The Lady Broch Tuarach stepped to him with a whisper of skirts, face full of concern as she looked at him. The Prince wrapped his arms about her and looked at the men, tears in his eyes. "I have nothing more to say." He said in dismissal as he coughed again, burying his face in a fold of her dress like a child seeking comfort.

Lizzy touched his back caressing lightly. This last battle, only a few days before, had cost the prince. The Cold and wet was taxing him since he was used to the temperate climate of Italy and Rome.

The men left then and Lizzy looked at Jamie. "Fetch his physician."

Jamie looked at her. "Kin ye nae see tae him?"

"My medical box is in our room. I think the Prince is ill. He needs rest."

"I am well enough. God will see my through and we can travel to Edinburgh and…" He promptly slumped forward against her in a faint. She gasped, taking the weight awkwardly as Jamie moved quickly, dropping his blade a moment. He eased the Prince back into the chair and nodded to his wife.

"A' richt." He said moving to do as she said.

Lizzy remained until the doctor came.

The Prince had a fever and was gravely ill. He was taken to Bannockburn house to rest and be easy to let his body heal.

Without him, O'Sullivan and Murray had their way and the camp settled in even as the biting teeth of the winter winds caused the men to become cold, hungry, and disheartened, just as Jamie had said.

The laird and lady of Broch Tuarach stood together looking over the camp, wrapped in plaid. "I'm sorry, Katie." Jamie said, hugging her to him and kissing her brow. "We hae tae gie th' prince some credit. He staun up tae thaim. He haes a fightin' man's hert. Even if th' generals dae nae."

She sighed. "We need to gain Edinburgh. My brother will meet us there and we can finish this once and for all."

He nodded slowly, bending to kiss her as their hair swirled together.