Featured Gaelic and Pronunciations:
- Feasgar math (fee-sker mah) - good afternoon
- A chàirdean (ah harsh-dehn) - friends (speaking to)
3 January, 1744
Le Havre, France
"Ah, nothin' like the stink of a fishing port," said Cailean as he stepped off of the gangway. Jamie and I were close behind, Jamie rushing to get off of that boat as quickly as he possibly could. Brian was cradled in his arms while I held Archie, who had been very fussy. "So… This is France?"
"Only Le Havre," said Jamie as he stepped off of the gangplank. He turned to face me and smiled, then reached a hand out to me to help me down. I accepted his hand and stepped off the gangway, then stood on my toes to kiss him.
"Mmm, I like ye better with a wee bit of stubble," I told him, and he chuckled.
"Tha's not the style fer men here in France," he told me, then he kissed me again. "To new beginnings, aye?"
"Aye, indeed," I said, and I kissed him a third time. "I thought ye would knock the crew off the gangway, ye were tryin' te get off so quickly."
"Aye, well… if I spent another minute on that rolling, creaking, leaking tub, ye may have had te bury me at sea," said Jamie, and I couldn't help but chuckle.
"There were times in the last few hours I thought I'd have te do that as an act of mercy," I told him.
"France!" Murtagh suddenly exclaimed behind us, surprising us both. "Reeks of frogs, just as I remember it."
"I think what ye'll find ye smell is fish, and I doubt ye'll find a single seaport in all the world that smells any different," I told him.
"He's just lookin' fer an excuse te complain, as always, the grimey old grouch," said Cailean, and Murtagh glared at him.
"Have ye ever even been te a port city, ye dolt?" Murtagh asked him.
"I wasnae raised on the Isle of Barra at all. Nope! I didnae spend my childhood on a boat fishing fer me supper," said Cailean sarcastically, and Murtagh narrowed his eyes at him.
"No wonder ye smell no different from the frogs," said Murtagh, and I stifled a snort. "I'll go and arrange fer some rooms fer us somewhere. Somewhere away from all this stink ." With that said, he slinked off, Jamie, Cailean and I watching after him. Beth MacCraig then made her way down the gangplank.
"Ah, Beth, there ye are! Go with Murtagh there, he's arrangin' fer rooms," I told her.
"Yes, Mistress. Should I take the lads?" Beth asked me, tucking her mousy brown hair beneath her cap.
"Probably wouldnae be a bad idea. I'll come and join shortly," I said, handing Archie to her. "Cailean can go with ye and bring Brian."
"I am no ' goin' with that crabby old curmudgeon!" Cailean exclaimed. "Jamie's already holdin' him, and he actually likes the cranky old coot."
"He's no' so bad," Jamie told him. "He's actually quite fond of ye."
"Tha's a funny joke, Jamie. Hilarious. I'm pishin' meself with laughter," said Cailean with full serious-toned sarcasm, and Jamie chuckled.
"I'll go with him. Watch yer sister, dinnae let her get herself into trouble," Jamie said, giving me a playful look. "We've had enough of that lately, aye?"
"Dinnae tempt me," I told him. He bent down to kiss me. "Love ye."
"Love ye, too," he said, kissing me again. "Come, Miss MacCraig. We'll go and catch up with our favourite old coot!" I heard Beth let out a girlish giggle and she and Jamie took our twin sons and followed Murtagh to wherever the hell he was headed.
"Guess we should stick around and wait," Cailean said, watching after them, and then he looked at me. "How're things? How's he been?"
"He'll be all right… He's still struggling, of course, but he's better than he was when we first rescued him," I told him.
"And how are you? " my brother asked me again, and I shrugged.
"I dinnae ken, really. I'm glad Jamie's alive and I'm glad te be with him. I'm so tired, though, and always so sore. Ye dinnae ken how annoying it is te carry around two large milkbags on yer chest…" He stopped me by tapping me on the wrist. "What? What are ye on aboot?" I directed my attention to whatever it was he was looking at and found myself locking eyes with a middle-aged man with strawberry-blond curls - and a Fowlis of Barra tartan. His eyes were narrowed, and he was watching both Cailean and I with suspicion. "Who is that?"
"I dinnae ken," Cailean replied. "An ancestor of some kind? I think he's tryin' te see… Oh, crap, he's coming towards us." I looked up and sure enough, the Clan Fowlis man was coming towards us.
"Look firm. Dinnae let him intimidate ye," I told my brother. In this time, Clan Fowlis of Barra was renowned for being aggressive - or at least intimidating. It was the current Laird of Cìosamul who led attacks on English ships nearly thirty years before, so I didn't know what to expect from this Fowlis clansman. He stopped when he was about four feet away from us, then glanced down at the Fowlis tartan that we both wore.
" Feasgar math, a chàirdean, " he said to us, bidding us a good afternoon.
" Feasgar math, " I said back to him. "Can we help ye, sir?"
"I happened te notice yer Fowlis of Barra tartans, but I couldnae place yer faces… I was wondering… How do I ken ye?" asked the clansman suspiciously, and I let out a quiet scoff.
"Ye could ask our names first, or introduce yerself," I told him, and he narrowed his eyes at me. "Name's Catrìona Fowlis Fraser, and this is my brother, Cailean." The Fowlis clansman looked us both up and down.
"Fraser," he said.
"Aye. What aboot you?" I asked him. The man held my gaze for a moment.
"Alasdair Fowlis," he said. "Friend te the Laird of Cìosamul. Counsel , even."
"Oh, counsel, good fer you," I said, not allowing this man to intimidate me, and Cailean elbowed me in the side.
"What are ye doin'?" he hissed, and I held up a hand to stop him.
"I dinnae believe I've had the pleasure to meet a Catrìona or a Cailean Fowlis. Were ye brought up on Barra?" asked Alasdair Fowlis.
"Well, then it's a pleasure te meet ye," I said back.
"Aye, we did grow up on Barra. What of it?" Cailean asked, taking a page from my book and being as equally intimidating as Alasdair Fowlis.
"Who's yer father? A Fowlis, I'm assuming," said the clansman, recognising that stubborn, intimidating trait that was common to our bloodline.
"Aye, his name was Archie," I said to the man. For a moment, it seemed that the hard wall that Alasdair Fowlis had up had gone transparent, and it seemed that he recognised the name, but then he steeled his face again and narrowed his eyes at me.
"Archie Fowlis. Son of Eairdsidh Ruadh?" he demanded.
"We never kent our grandsire," Cailean said, which was the truth. "Archie is a common name, ye ken."
"But not Archie Fowlis ," said Alasdair Fowlis. "I dinnae ken who ye are, but I'll be keeping my eye on ye."
"Good luck with that," I said. "My husband is a Fraser clansman. Laird of Broch Tuarach. If yer threatenin' me, yer goin' te regret it."
"I'm not threatenin' ye, Mistress Fraser," said Alasdair Fowlis. "Good day to ye both."
"And to you," said Cailean. None of us bowed nor curtseyed to each other, and then Alasdair Fowlis left us. "We'd best tell Jamie aboot him. Keep him on alert. Maybe ye shouldnae have told him Da's name."
"It's not like I'm lyin' aboot who I am," I told him. "Come on, let's find the others." Cailean and I picked up what we had to carry and made our way off the dock, but I couldn't help but glanced over my shoulder to meet the amber eyes of Alasdair Fowlis, who was watching me like a hawk.
I was lying in bed nursing both Brian and Archie, naked from the waist up, when Jamie entered the room, smiling at the sight before him. He closed the door behind him, then slipped his coat off of his arms. "I cannae tell ye how much it warms my heart te see ye nursin' my babes at yer breast," he told me. He then removed his doublet and went to kick off his boots.
"Lucky you, gettin' te watch. The pair of 'em have a bite like an alligator and they dinnae even have teeth yet," I told him, glancing down at my sons, who were each latched on firmly to a nipple.
"An alligator, aye?" said Jamie, setting his boots by the hearth. He next removed his breeks and draped them over a chair, then stood beside the bed in only his shirt, which fell to his knees. "Yer thrivin' as a mother. I kent ye'd be excellent at it."
"And what made ye so sure?" I asked him.
"Ye could take care of me. If ye could take care of me, ye could take care of a bairn no problem," he replied, bending over to kiss me. Then he laid down on the bed beside me, settling in with his hands resting on his belly, the injured one on top. "Mmm, a bed… tha' doesnae move. Luxury." I let out a snort.
"Aye, a bit hard fer my tastes, but we've slept on worse, haven't we?" I asked him. Jamie didn't say anything other than a short noise of agreement, his eyes seeming to glance off someplace far off. "What is it, mo ghràidh ? Somethin' on yer mind, I can tell." He let out a sigh before answering me.
"Sometimes, I… I can still feel his touch," said Jamie, referring to what Randall had done to him at Wentworth. "It's like… he's here , waitin' te perform his next move."
"He isnae here, Jamie, but I am," I told him. "I always will be… I'll no' be goin' away anytime soon, and certainly not back te the stones with Murtagh." Jamie let out a noise of amusement.
"Aye, yer a hard one te get rid of," he told me, and then he smiled and looked up at me. "Yer a stubborn woman."
"Stubborn and firm, just like my husband," I told him. His hand moved to my thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze, and then he sat up to watch our sons nursing. "I met someone today…"
"Aye? Who?" Jamie asked me, raising an eyebrow.
"An ancestor, I think. Of mine," I told him. "It was a man wearing a Fowlis of Barra tartan and he approached Cailean and I."
"Approached?" I nodded.
"He asked us if he kent us, then asked aboot where we came from and who our father was."
"What'd ye tell him?"
"The truth, of course. I thought there must be many Archies out there in the world. Of course, not many Archie Fowlises , and the Archie Fowlis of this time is likely a sore spot fer the clan, considerin' he was the heir… He seemed verra suspicious of us and told us he was going to keep an eye on us. Cailean said we should tell ye."
"Aye, ye should. I'll no' have any man threatenin' my wife and children," Jamie told me. "What was the man's name?"
"Alasdair Fowlis," I answered, and Jamie pressed his lips together. "What? Do ye ken the name?"
"Aye, I've heard of it," Jamie confessed. "He is the nephew of Eairdsidh Ruadh, he was kent fer plundering English ships. Arrested many times, but never killed fer his crimes and always got away with it. I was always told it was because he was a favourite of the Laird of Cìosamul. The story goes that when the Laird's son disappeared, Alasdair Fowlis, who wasnae next in line fer the title, stepped up to worm his way into the Laird's life, be closer to him as such. I believe he's next in line fer the title now."
"But he can't be," I said. "I ken the history of Fowlis of Barra, it was a passion of Da's and he always loved te talk aboot it. On his timeline, the next in line to inherit the title was…" I froze as I recalled the next name on the list then slowly looked at Jamie. "…Cailean Fowlis."
"Yer brother?" Jamie asked. "Does he ken?"
"I dinnae think so. He didnae care as much fer the family history as I did," I told him. "The history books that were written fer this time said that Cailean Fowlis was the proclaimed grandson of Eairdsidh Ruadh and was a pardoned Jacobite when the Laird died and he took his place. Da told me once he named Cailean after that ancestor… Do ye think Cailean is named after himself? " Jamie snorted, although I was more shocked than amused.
"Ye do ken what that means though, aye?" Jamie asked me, and I raised my brow. "It means Cailean fights fer the Jacobites." My eyes widened a little.
"No, he… he wouldnae do that, he kens the result of Culloden," I told him. "We all do, it's what we're taught in school…"
"That may be so, but if he's a pardoned Jacobite, then ye ken well the meanin' of that," Jamie told me. I lowered my gaze, focusing on the checkered pattern of the quilt that we both laid on top of.
"So we need te change it," I said suddenly, and then I looked back up at Jamie. "Not just because of Cailean… fer everyone. We agreed on the ship that we have te stop the rebellion."
"I thought we agreed te discuss it," Jamie replied. "If there's goin' te be a war against the English, do ye not think we should try te win it? If we win it, we'll save lives, too."
"But not as many of we dinnae stop it," I told him. "Jamie, the Scots will rebel anyway in four hundred years. They'll be fightin' fer their freedom."
"Aye, fer years, but if we win the Jacobite uprising, then ye may no' have te fight a rebellion at all. Yer family may live."
"My parents met in the rebellion. My father was a soldier and my mother was a nurse, she tended to him when he was injured in the Battle of Dunblane in 2099. Had they not met, I wouldnae be born, Jamie."
"Aye, I guess changin' the past may affect the future…"
"Guess? It most certainly will , Jamie." I let out a sigh, then glanced down to find that Brian had detached from my breast and fallen asleep, but Archie was still suckling. "I do ken that the Scots do have several victories at first, but ye ken surely that the victors are the ones who get te write history. Most of what we ken even in my time was written by the English after Culloden and they didnae mention much aboot the battles. I ken one fer sure was at Prestonpans, though, but I dinnae ken much aboot the strategies." I let out another sigh. "But what I do ken fer sure is tha' both sides will eventually end up facing off on Culloden Moor and the Scottish army will be decimated."
"Tha's no' much te go on," said Jamie.
"But it all starts here in France with Bonnie Prince Charlie," I replied. "We have te try at least, figure out where Charles gets his funding and disrupt it somehow. Infiltrate the Jacobite movement."
"Ye sure have a high opinion of what a crippled highlander and an islander mother of two newborn babes can accomplish," Jamie told me with amusement.
"Since when were ye no' up fer a challenge, aye? Yer cousin lives in Paris, does he no'? He's a Jacobite, isn't he?"
"He is."
"Maybe he can vouch fer us and start us on the path…" I paused when I looked up into his face. "What? What are ye thinkin'?"
"I'm thinkin' this is no' a verra honourable path yer settin' us on, a nighean . It's no' just lyin' to my cousin, it's lyin' te everyone who's paths we cross."
"But ye have te think aboot the stakes. Do ye not think them worth the cost?"
"Even if the cost is our souls?"
"Well, my soul is already damned enough as it is. I'm no' sure how much more I could damn it," I told him. "My ledger is blood red and leaks everra day."
"If yer soul is damned, then so is mine," said Jamie, and he smiled at me. "Here, I'll take Brian and put him te bed." He stood up and lifted Brian, who was fast asleep, into his arms and carried him to one of the two bassinets on the other side of the room, laying him down inside of it carefully. "There's my wee laddie, aye… He's so pale, ye can see right through him."
"Aye, I ken," I said. "We'd best keep him warm, or…"
"Or he may no' survive the winter," Jamie finished for me. I didn't answer him, but agreed silently. Jamie tucked Brian up tightly and then returned to my side, sitting down on the bed to watch Archie nursing. Archie soon fell fast asleep, my nipple popping free from his mouth. Using my thumb, I wiped up the bits of milk from around his mouth and bent to kiss his forehead. "I still cannae believe our fortune… Two beautiful bairns, the perfect combination of the pair of us." I smiled, and then looked up at Jamie.
"I wouldnae say 'perfect combination'. They look like you except for they have my eye colour. Tha's aboot all they have of me."
"Not true," said Jamie. "He has yer mouth."
"My mouth?" I asked, looking down at Archie. "Aye, maybe a bit… He kind of resembles my father a wee bit, too. Ye look a bit like yer namesake, don't ye, Archie?" I asked him. He made a small noise in my arms, and Jamie gave him his finger.
"Brian is so small compared to him," Jamie said suddenly.
"I ken," I said. "Archie looks healthy, even for a premature bairn, and Brian…" I glanced up at Brian's cot, where he was fast asleep, his tiny chest rising and falling with each breath; it wasn't nearly as smooth as Archie's breathing. "He's so unwell…"
"Will we lose him?"
"I hope not." I looked down at Archie again, who had now fallen asleep. Jamie sat up and offered to take him, then carried him to his own cot and bundled him up nicely before joining me in bed again. I'd pulled my shift back up to cover myself and when Jamie sat down beside me, I curled up into his arms.
"I just had a thought," Jamie muttered suddenly, his lips buried in my hair.
"Aye? Did it hurt te think?" I asked, teasing him, and he let out a quiet chuckle before continuing.
"It's a thought that may hurt later on," he said. "If we're planning on changing the future, obviously we must tell Cailean. He kens what's to happen and he kens what we should do… but what the hell are we going te tell Murtagh?"