10 April, 1746

Six days until Culloden

JAMIE POV

"Gentlemen," Charles announced to the officers in the dining room of Culloden House. "I have studied our situation carefully, and our choice is quite clear: here is the best spot to join battle with our enemy." He pointed on the map, reading the text. "Culloden Moor. Are we agreed?"

"Aye, this is the perfect spot," Jamie replied. "Fer the English."

"With that, I do agree," said Lord General Murray. "Culloden Moor is flat, plain ground, sir."

"Without sufficient cavalry and artillery, our lines will be smashed te pieces before our troops can even engage the enemy," Jamie chimed in.

"Aye, Clan Fraser perhaps. But the MacDonalds will get it done!" Alexander MacDonald, the current chief of Clan MacDonald of Glencoe, exclaimed.

"Aye, and the Camerons, too!" shouted John Cameron, Lord of Lochiel.

"With all due respect, why fight at all?" Cailean chimed in.

"What de you ken, Fowlis? Yer no' a clan leader! Ye dinnae even have an army!" shouted Cameron.

"I'm sorry, I didnae ken ye were the Bonnie Prince," Cailean spat back, then returned his attention to the prince. "I implore ye, Yer Royal Highness… Walk the camp. See fer yerself the poor state of yer army."

"Aye, the men are too exhausted fer battle," said Seàrlas MacBean.

"Speak fer yerself, MacBean! Ye dinnae command Clan Chattan!" spat Alexander MacGillivray.

"Aye, and yer men are moanin' te mine!" MacBean spat back.

"MacBean is right, the men are too exhausted te fight a major battle. They need rest," Jamie told them. "My wife has been tendin' te many of yer men and claims many have ill health."

"Oh, I refuse to listen to anymore of this coward's talk!" Charles exclaimed, interrupting the clan squabbles. "There is still the matter of the French gold."

"Aye? And where is it?" asked the chief of Clan Grant of Glenmoriston.

"A large shipment has supposedly sailed from the continent," said Charles in response to Grant.

"Aye, 'supposedly'," Grant replied gruffly.

"With such funds, we can secure food and weapons!" Charles snapped back at him like a spoiled child.

"Aye, Yer Highness, but we need te wait fer it te arrive first," said Lord General Murray, earning a scowl from Charles.

"And while we do, we can split the army into smaller units, makin' it more difficult fer the English te follow," Jamie said. "Then, when our men are well rested and have the supplies we need, we choose the better ground te fight upon and defeat our enemy once and fer all."

"James… You are my most loyal companion and friend," Charles said to him, but then turned his tone to a more firm one. "But I am not some frightened hare to be run down by a pack of English hounds!"

"Easy fer you te say when ye'll be behind the lines," Grant spat back at him.

"Remember yer place, Grant," Cameron growled at him. "Tha's the prince yer talkin' te."

"I am a man," said the prince. "And I am a soldier. And I shall comport myself as one. I'm weary of retreat. The men will rest, and then we shall march on Culloden. Gentlemen, God will provide for us. We do His bidding. May He have mercy on us all."

CATRÌONA POV

"What do ye want from me?" I demanded of Randall as he stood over me. He was dressed in civilian clothes, looking nothing like the dragoon captain that he was. He seemed tired, too, as if he hadn't slept in days. Well, join the club, mate , I thought to myself.

"Your skill as a physician," Randall replied. "You have been the only one throughout the entirety of my brother's illness to make some headway in his treatment. In exchange for your services, I wish to offer you information that I possess regarding the movements and plans of the English troops." At this, I cocked my eyebrow.

"Ye've thought aboot this a long while, havenae ye?" I asked. "Tell me aboot yer situation, then. I hear from Mary that he's gotten verra ill lately."

"So much so that he is now deprived of employment," said Randall. "My brother has sent him some funds, but his wife is not overly fond of the idea of sharing her funds. I have procured rooms for Alex at the Rose and Crown Inn so that I might look in on him, as well as Miss Hawkins. My funds do not stretch far enough to allow employment of a proper servant."

"I see," I said. "So why me? Why come te me fer my help?"

"I told you. You are the only one who has ever made any headway-"

"Bullshit. Why would ye come te me ?" I snapped, cutting him off. His lips curled up in a mocking smile, his eyes narrowing.

"Because of who you are," he answered me. "If one seeks to sell one's soul, is it not proper to go to the powers of darkness?" At this, I let out a laugh.

"First of all, I dinnae believe ye have a soul," I said to him. "Secondly… Do ye seriously think I'm a 'power of darkness'?"

"Aside from the stories of you I heard during my time in Paris, you did tell me so yourself, at Wentworth," Randall replied. "A serious mistake, letting you go."

"Yer no' the first te say so," I said with amusement. "One of my favourite things aboot bein' a woman. Men always underestimate me, and tha's their weakness." Randall scoffed.

"If only your life wasn't the price he set," he said, now taunting me.

"Want me te help? Leave my husband the hell out of this," I hissed at him.

"Did he tell you? About the things that passed between us?"

"Oh, he did. Everrathing ." I met his icy glare with my own, Randall's hazel eyes on my own grey.

"You and I are linked, whether it pleases you or not," Randall told me maliciously. "You know, as I do, the warmth of his skin. The scent of his sweat… The sound that he makes at the last, when he has lost himself…"

"Ye ken what? Ye can go and fuck yerself," I hissed, standing up and making my way back to the entrance of the church.

"I can deliver General Cumberland into your hands, or you can let him take the Scottish army," Randall called after me.

"General Cumberland be damned," I hissed, but then I turned. "I'd be glad te help yer brother, but if ye make one mention of my husband, I'll give ye leave of yer other bollock."

"I do not call upon your power as a woman over a man. My feelings towards you are as much as yours towards me," Randall replied.

"I damn well hope so," I spat at him. "Fine. I'll help yer brother. I'll be by te evaluate him shortly. Ye'd better make yer information worth my time. Ye have six days, if ye dinnae recall."

"Your curse," Randall replied, recalling the curse I'd given him at Wentworth.

"Twenty-eight moons have passed verra quickly," I said to him. "Six days. I'll be by in an hour. Tell Mary I had te run back te camp, check on my son." I turned on my heel and strode out of the church, leaving Randall by himself in a holy place that, surprisingly, didn't cast that devil out.

With a basket of herbs in hand, I made my way to the Rose and Crown Inn, where Jack Randall met me outside. "I didn't think you'd come," he told me.

"I keep my promises," I told him. "Go on, then. Show me te yer brother." I followed Randall inside, stepping past him when he opened a door leading to the room Alex was staying in. Alex was having a coughing fit on the bed while Mary flitted about with a kettle in hand.

"Mistress Fraser!" she said when I entered, Randall hot on my tail. "Have you come to examine Alex?"

"I have," I said. "I am sorry I had te leave ye earlier, Mary. My son was wantin' fer his milk and I needed te feed him."

"Oh, I… I understand," she told me, seemingly subconsciously resting a hand on her stomach. I raised an eyebrow curiously, but she didn't seem to notice. "I've dissolved more arsenic in this tea."

"Tha's all and good, but I'm afraid arsenic willnae do much but give his cheeks a rosy hue," I told her. Alex was rattled by yet another cough as I approached the bed and set the basket and my medical bag on the bed.

"M… Madam Fraser," said Alex weakly as I pulled out my stethoscope.

"Hello, Alex. Dinnae fash, save yer breath, a leannan ," I told him. "Can ye take a deep breath fer me?" He did as I told him. "And again. Hmm…" Damn these stethoscopes for not being very effective… What I needed was a metal one. Metal conducted sound so much better. "Ye've definitely got some pulmonary edema, and I'm hearin' crackles."

"Pulm... pulmon… What is that?" Mary asked me.

"A buildup of fluid in his lungs," I said as I moved to listen to his heart. Lub, dub… lub, dub… I thought I heard something else, but this damn wooden stethoscope was bloody useless. I moved it to the apex of the heart. "Can I have complete silence, please?" I said as I heard Mary clattering around behind me. Lub, dub… lub, dub… lub, dub-doop. There it was; an S3 heart sound, an indication of heart failure. I took Alex's hand and squeezed his fingertips: slow capillary refill. His lips and fingernails were a little blue, and when I felt around his legs, they were swollen. How the hell did I explain to Mary and Randall, two eighteenth centurions, that Alex likely had tuberculosis and had entered the final stages of congestive heart failure as a result?

"Well? What is it?" Randall demanded from me, noticing the concerned look on my face.

"Right… It seems that Alex has contracted tub… the white plague… It takes hold of the lungs and can affect how the body takes in air, and it seems te have advanced te the point of… of causin' his heart te fail," I explained as best as I could.

" Fail? " Mary cried. "How can a heart fail? Is it broken? Oh, I'm so sorry, Alex! I should have come sooner!"

"Mary, this isnae yer fault. This was brought on by the consumption," I said. "Er… white plague. Alex… How long have te been feelin' rotten?"

"I… I've always been… a sickly child… but I would say… it got worse within… the last year or so…" he murmured weakly. So a likely weakened immune system, probably got tuberculosis at the Bastille after the attack in Paris… and his compromised immune system likely sped up the disease's progression.

"It's likely ye contracted it in the Bastille… The white plague can take years te show, but… but Alex's body is naturally too weak te have fought it off," I explained.

"Do you mean to say someone gave it to him?" Randall demanded.

"Aye, tha's how diseases work. Ye pass them on from one te another. In cramped conditions like the Bastille, it's verra easy fer people te catch illnesses from others," I told him.

"So what can you do?" Mary asked me somewhat impatiently.

"Not much, I'm afraid… but what I can do is give ye parsley fer tea, it should help with the edema, but keep a chamber pot nearby. Parsley serves as a diuretic, meanin' it makes ye pish a lot more," I said, noting the strange expressions on their faces. "I can give him mullein and thorn apple fer his breathin', a poultice te rub on his back and chest fer soreness, and I can give ye laudanum fer pain, but I fear I cannae do much else."

"But… but you must! He must be cured!" Mary cried, her hand now resting firmly on her abdomen. So it wasn't an accident - she knew she was pregnant, and I gave her a knowing look.

"Mary, hen… I ken exactly how ye feel… I wish tha' I could do more, but… I'm afraid it's too late. The best I can do is help make him comfortable," I told her.

"No, no!" Mary cried, bolting from the room before the tears began to roll down her cheeks. I glanced at Randall next, who seemed numb to all emotions.

"And I ken that look, too. I lost four brothers," I told him. I glanced at Alex, who seemed to have slipped into a deep sleep.

"Is there nothing more you can do?" Randall asked me.

"Well… there is one ," I said. I reached into my bag, pulling out a small vial and holding it up for him to see. "This here is yellow jasmine. It is a verra potent poison. Just a little is all ye need. It's flavourless… It'll be like driftin' off te sleep." Randall didn't answer me, but instead just continued to stare at the vial. "Ye dinnae have te decide now, but I'd think aboot it, soon. He's sufferin'." I placed the vial back into my bag, then collected my other things. I placed a bit of mullein, parsley and thorn apple on the bedside table and stood back up. "Best I get back, my husband will be waitin' fer me. But first… yer part of the bargain."

"We'll never rid ourselves of that bastard," Jamie hissed under his breath when I told him about my encounter. "But I suppose this time, his presence in our life will be good fer us. Nairn, ye said?"

"So he says," I replied, laying back on the stiff cot that was to be mine and Jamie's bed. "Cumberland's army is at Nairn preparin' fer a celebration of his birthday in a few days' time. Bloody son of the bloody king…"

"Cumberland is the son of the king?" Jamie asked me with surprise.

"Aye, ye didnae ken tha'? The youngest son of King Geordie, destined te never be king. Prince William Augustus, Duke of Cumberland," I answered him. "I believe he's our age, actually."

"Is he now," Jamie replied. "Tha' oddly makes him human, and tha's verra strange fer a man ye say will be called the Butcher. I thought he was an auld bastard, no' twenty-four."

"Twenty-three, he'll be twenty-four in a few days," I told him, and Jamie scoffed.

"Yer so like yer brother sometimes," he said with a light chuckle.

"Oi! My brother is like me . I'm the aulder one, he copied me ," I told him.

"As fer Randall… I'd say this is verra interestin' information, if it's true," Jamie replied, sitting down on the cot beside me and resting his hand on my stomach.

"Strangely enough, I believe him. He seemed awfully desperate," I told him. "And he's agreed te give me information everratime I tend te his brother. We've got six days until Culloden. No time te dilly dally."

"And what if his brother dies in yer care? What's te stop him from sendin' you into the next world?" Jamie asked me.

"I honest te God dinnae think he will," I told him. "Granted, he said sparin' my life at Wentworth was a mistake, but I threatened his one remaining bollock and tha' seemed te keep him off killin'. Strange how men are so protective of their bollocks."

"They're what make a man a man," Jamie replied, lying down on the cot beside me and pulling me closer to him, wrapping his arms around me.

"No, what makes ye a man is yer Y chromosome. It decides if ye grow a cock and balls or tits and a cunny," I told him.

"Speakin' of tits and a cunny," Jamie replied, pulling up my skirt a little so he could slide his hand up my thigh. "We've got a wee bit of time before we're expected elsewhere…"

11 April, 1746

Five days until Culloden

I was returning from another visit with more news about the Duke of Cumberland's army - six more battalions and two cavalry regiments had joined Cumberland at Nairn - when I saw a carriage coming to a stop in the camp, a familiar face opening the door and climbing down the stairs with assistance. "Colum Mackenzie?" I asked as I approached the carriage. "What brings ye here te Inverness?"

"My Laird!" came Rupert's voice nearby, his big belly jiggling a little as he bounded over. "My Laird! I trust ye had a safe journey."

"Verra safe, Rupert. I thank ye. It's good te see some familiar faces," Colum said to us both, and then he turned to address Rupert. "I was sorry te hear aboot Angus. I always thought when that wee bastard fell, ye'd fall with him."

"Nearly did," I chimed in. "If it werenae fer Angus, Rupert might no' have made it off the battlefield. Come, Colum. Let's get ye a place te rest."

"Rupert, fetch me my brother and my nephew," Colum ordered as I brought him into Culloden House. I found him a spare room and got him settled, then got to work examining him and listening to his heart and lung sounds. "Yer wastin' yer time with all this pokin' and proddin', lass," he told me. "The healer who took yer place at Leoch, he's been lookin' more and more dour these past few weeks."

"With good reason, I'm afraid," I said when I began to hear both S3 and S4 heart sounds.

"I've been dyin' fer years," Colum replied. "It's a wearisome process, dyin'. I welcome it's conclusion."

"I can imagine," I said to him. "Is that why ye travelled all this way, then? Te hurry along the process? Because with all tha' fluid buildup in yer lungs, comin' here's a good way te do that."

"Hm," said Colum as a knock sounded at the door and Jamie entered the room.

"Uncle," he said. "I was surprised te hear ye've come." He glanced at me, finding me in the midst of writing down my conclusions in a book. "Is everrathing all right?"

"Afraid not," I said as I wrote down the symptoms and all of the signs I'd observed.

"So. Is my brother still getting satisfaction out of keeping me waiting?" Colum asked him when he noticed that Jamie was alone.

"He's leadin' a scout on Cumberland's army at Nairn," Jamie told him.

"I always said ye were a smart lad," he said. "Give my brother authority te keep him content, but not enough te allow him te grab fer more."

"Aye, well. Learned from the best," Jamie answered him.

"While we wait fer his return, I should like te speak te yer wife in private," Colum told him, seeming to surprise Jamie a little, but he nodded.

"Aye, I'll be close by," he said, bowing his head to his uncle and then leaving the room.

"A fine lad," Colum said once he'd left. "I commend ye both on such an admirable marriage, Catrìona. It seems forcin' yer marriage was a good thing after all. I will say, there was a time I found the match verra disagreeable, but I was wrong. Tha's one of the pleasures of dyin', I can finally admit my mistakes."

"I believe our marriage would have happened had ye forced our hands or not, honestly," I said to him.

"Aye, indeed," Colum answered, evidently thinking for a moment. "Dyin' makes askin' fer favours easy. How could one deny a dyin' man his dyin' wish, aye?"

"Oh? What do ye need, then?" I asked him.

"It's my pain, lass. It grows more tedious by the day," he told me.

"Well, after listenin' te yer heart and lungs, I find that yer enterin' into what is called heart failure. It'll cause swellin' in yer lower extremities and will cause some pain. I can fetch ye a bit of laudanum if ye like-"

"No, no. Laudanum only dulls the senses. I would prefer somethin' more… final ." Death, he meant. He wanted to die. In my faith, death was seen as simply the next turn of the wheel of life, but in Catholic faith, suicide was viewed much differently.

"Is suicide no' a sin in yer faith?" I asked him, causing him to cock an eyebrow.

"Surely, we share a faith, no?"

"Yer a wise auld buzzard, I'll give ye tha'. Nothin' ever escapes yer notice," I told him with a subtle smile. "I've been a practicin' pagan all my life. My mother was pagan, as am I. My three eldest younger brothers and my father practiced Catholicism, while my two younger brothers were too young te really understand."

"I always kent there was somethin' odd aboot ye," Colum told me. "So… Pagan. Does Jamie ken? He's a verra religious man."

"He does, and it hasnae changed his opinion of me," I told him. "He's kent since almost the beginnin'. I'm sure ye've heard tha' most of the Scottish countryside thinks me a white lady?"

"Oh, I've heard," he said to me. "It's why I came to you for a solution. Aye, suicide may be a sin, but what's one more sin te a sinner, aye?" He paused for a moment as he looked into my eyes. "Geillis Duncan gave her husband a quick death. I would verra much welcome the same."

"Arthur Duncan died by cyanide poisoning. It's an agonising way te end one's life," I told him a little firmly.

"I'll leave the details to ye. I trust ye will give me a kinder death than that bitch gave poor auld Arthur," Colum replied snidely.

"I'll thank ye no' te speak ill of my friend."

"Memories… They remain raw even longer than wounds. I'll give ye a piece of news that'll ease yer mind. The son of Geillis Duncan lives."

"I figured as much. I kent they dinnae burn women with a bairn in their wombs. Dinnae want te burn an innocent, although I'm surprised they did so, considerin' Geillis was shoutin' her child was the bairn of Satan," I told him as I dug through my bag, searching for the small vial I'd offered Randall the day before for Alex. "So, a lad, is it? What did ye do with him? Because I'm certain Dougal doesnae ken."

"He kens," Colum told me. "The child is one more mistake that my brother has te live with. The bairn was given te William and Sarah Mackenzie. They lost their child shortly before Geillis Duncan had her son and were willin' te take the child."

"Good fer them. I'm glad, at least, tha' the child was given te parents who will love him," I said as I located the vial and pulled it out. "This here, is yellow jasmine. Or jessamine, whatever ye prefer. Also called Carolina Jessamine, as it's found in the colony of South Carolina in the New World. It's verra poisonous. Early on, ye'll feel some nausea, which I can counteract with ginger, sweatin', a bit of hypothermia and muscle weakness, eventually turnin' into muscle paralysis. What I'll do is give ye a bit of laudanum te mix into yer tea with this te encourage ye te fall asleep… and it'll happen in yer sleep. Dyin' of respiratory failure is a dreadful way te go, but this is quick, and I can ease the sufferin' better than if I gave ye cyanide. There's no easier way te die than te go in yer sleep." I placed the vial in his hand, then took out another vial of laudanum and set it on the bedside table.

"I said I didnae want laudanum," said Colum, admiring the vial in his hands.

"I told ye why I'm givin' it to ye. It'll also look like yer bein' treated. I dinnae want te be accused of takin' yer life," I told him.

"Then I'll leave a note stating that this was my choice," he told me. "Fer what it's worth… ye have my deepest gratitude. I'm grateful fer all ye've done, and I'm grateful fer the joy ye've brought te my nephew. Take care of the wee laddie, and remind him he's got Mackenzie blood runnin' through his veins."

"I will," I told him.

"I had my doubts aboot ye when we first met. Ye said ye were the daughter of the heir te the Laird of Cìosamul. I had my doubts because I had met him once, a long time ago. He was maybe thirteen, and already a fierce wee laddie. Yer the spur of him," Colum told me, and I couldn't stop the smile on my face from forming.

"Thank ye," I said, genuinely grateful. "I'll leave ye with some rosemary fer the inflammation fer now." I took out a sprig of rosemary and set it on the table, then gave him a final, respectful nod before I turned to leave the room.

12 April, 1746

Four days until Culloden

JAMIE POV

Jamie was summoned yet again to his uncle's side, but this time, Dougal was with him, having returned from his scout early that morning. When they arrived, Colum was looking very pale and unwell, something that disturbed Jamie. He was used to seeing his Uncle Colum strong and firm, standing tall like a mountain despite the deformity in his legs. Dougal, on the other hand, didn't seem surprised at all. "I'm sorry te see ye so ill, brother," Dougal said to Colum with a neutral tone.

"I congratulate ye on yer ability te hide it so well," Colum told his brother.

"If so, it is because I also feel joy at yer change of heart," Dougal told him, still in a very neutral tone.

"Change of heart, aye? And what change would that be?" asked Colum.

"Joinin' the Mackenzies of Leoch with our righteous rebellion, restorin' the king across the water te his throne," said Dougal with pride, and Colum let out a laugh.

"Ye think I've turned Jacobite?" he asked his younger brother. "Tha' I'm goin' te lead the Mackenzies over the cliff with ye lot? I may be dyin', brother, but I havenae turned simple."

"If ye didnae come te aid us, then why come at all?" Dougal snapped at his older brother, very irritated with Colum's mocking tone.

"There are matters - clan matters - that must be resolved while I can still draw breath," Colum answered. "I have declared my wish that my son, Hamish, be the next chief of Clan Mackenzie."

"But Hamish is just a lad!" Dougal exclaimed. Jamie decided to just step back and let the two brothers hash out their business.

"Ned Gowan can instruct him in clan law, and I have chosen a guardian. Someone I believe the clan will follow until Hamish comes of age, a man whose task it will be te guide the boy into manhood…" Jamie saw Dougal square his shoulders, assuming that he, being the War Chief of the clan, was the man chosen for this job, but Colum dragged on. "Te see that he learns how te choose what is best fer the future of the clan and te thus demonstrate his worthiness te be chief."

"Brother, I-" Dougal began, but Colum cut him off.

"James Fraser, I offer you this guardianship," Colum said, addressing Jamie. Him? Colum chose him of all people to serve as guardian of his son? Jamie hardly knew how to be a father, let alone a guardian of a future clan chief, and not to mention, Jamie's Lallybroch men were involved in the uprising that Colum so vehemently opposed. So why him ?

"Ye choose a Fraser over a Mackenzie te lead the clan?" Dougal demanded once he'd overcome his shock. "Over yer own brother?"

"Well, I certainly cannae choose Jamie's good brother, who I understand is heir te the chiefdom of Clan Fowlis of Barra," Colum told Dougal sarcastically.

"Deny me the boy's guardianship, when by rights, ye should be proposin' me as successor?" Dougal demanded angrily.

"Jamie is our sister's son," Colum told him calmly.

"Ach, away!" Dougal hissed, turning his back on his brother.

"He shares our blood and ye ken it," Colum told him firmly. "Besides, I am skeptical that my support would be enough te convince the clan te choose ye as their chief."

"Do ye no' think the Mackenzies would follow my leadership?" Dougal asked, turning back around to face his brother.

"Brother, if ye were half as popular as ye believe yerself te be, then there would be more men here today in this army of yers. Has that thought never crossed yer mind? Why only two men have remained loyal te ye all this time?" Colum asked him, earning a growl from Dougal.

"Christ's bloody cross!" Dougal snapped at him. "I love Hamish, and he is considerably fond of me. He barely even kens Jamie!"

"I ken the deep affection ye hold fer the lad. As ye never fail te remind me, he's yer spawn," Colum spat back.

"And I ken the reason behind this loathsome decision," Dougal told him firmly.

"Watch yer words, brother," Colum warned him.

"It's yer last chance te punish me fer fatherin' the son ye never could!" Dougal shouted at him.

"Perhaps I should go," Jamie chimed in suddenly, having been trying to find a time to leave the two brothers to their squabble.

"No, no. I do not have the strength te pick at auld wounds," Colum said, waving off Doggal's jab. "It is the future of the clan that holds sway over my thoughts and I will do all I can te ensure that future."

"And what future do ye think that'll be? Do ye honestly think Jamie will do anythin' different from me?" Dougal demanded of his brother. "When ye close yer eyes fer the final time, he will rally the Mackenzies te our cause, and they will fight and die fer it. And damn yer wishes!"

"I… I am honoured… te be entrusted with the care of yer son, Uncle, but Dougal speaks true," Jamie chimed in again. "I will use everra option in my power te defeat the English, and tha' includes raisin' the Mackenzie banner." Colum let out a subtle chuckle.

"I dinnae doubt yer fightin' spirit, Nephew, but I ken ye willnae needlessly sacrifice yer men," Colum told him with a snide smile. "If the cause is lost, ye will put the lives of yer men above all else, and the lives of yer wife and child, too." Damn that auld bastard, he knew mentioning Catrìona and Archie would strike a nerve with him. Colum then turned his attention to his brother, giving him a firm look. "Tell me ye would do the same. Say the words, and mean them, both in yer head and in yer heart, and the guardianship is yers." Dougal didn't answer him. Instead, he glared at his brother maliciously for several moments before silently storming out of the room, pushing past Jamie and shoving him aside. Jamie heard Colum let out another chuckle. "My poor brother. I have lived my life crippled in body, and he has lived his crippled in mind. Bring me yer lad, will ye, Jamie? I wish te see a young face not yet tainted by the reality of politics."

13 April, 1746

Three days until Culloden

CATRÌONA POV

I stepped outside of the inn just for a moment to get a breath of fresh air when I was surprised to see Murtagh standing outside the door. "Murtagh!" I exclaimed. "What on earth are ye doin' here?"

"Jamie said ye were tendin' te the brother of Black Jack Randall, told me te keep an eye on ye," he replied, and I narrowed my eyes.

"I said I was fine," I told him, then let out a groan. "Nevermind. I need te go back in." I returned to Alex's room, Murtagh on my heels, to find Mary sitting on the bed beside Alex and Randall standing on the opposite side of the room.

"Mrs. Fraser," said Randall when I entered the room again, eyeing Murtagh. "I need to speak with you. Alone. "

"Whatever ye have te say, ye can say before me," Murtagh spat at him.

"Murtagh, it's fine," I told him. "Stay here." Murtagh gave me a firm, stubborn look, but I was equally as stubborn. He stayed in the room while Randall and I left to stand in the hallway.

"We had an agreement. You said you would help him," Randall said to me irritably.

"I did. I'm helpin' te ease his sufferin', but I cannae cure him. I told ye this," I replied. Randall let out a growl and turned his back to me, letting out a heavy sigh.

"He asked me to marry Miss Hawkins," he said quietly, surprising me. "He wants his child to have the Randall name. I told him he could marry her, but he is insistent. He said he sent for a minister to marry us." It dawned on me, then, that Tom's family tree was not exactly what we had expected it to be. Mary bore his ancestor, indeed, but Jonathan Randall was not the father. Alex Randall was, and Jonathan Randall married her upon his death.

"That… That would be good," I said.

"Good?" Randall spat back, turning to look at me.

"Aye, good," I repeated. "Ye've got three days. Alex barely has one, if he's lucky. If ye marry Mary, the child willnae be born out of wedlock. The child will have the Randall name - a respectable name in England - and will be the child of an English officer."

"You never explained how you knew so much about my family," Randall said suddenly, and I let out a laugh.

"Ye wouldnae believe me if I told ye," I said with amusement. "Anyway, since yer te die in three days' time, as yer widow, Mary will be entitled te yer property and yer pension."

"And what if your curse proves untrue and the world continues as it always has?" he asked me. "Do you really want Miss Hawkins in my bed?"

"Ye'll no' have the time te get there," I told him. "Dinnae send yer brother te his grave with a broken heart. If ye love Alex, then I trust that love enough te stay yer impulses with Mary."

"If you were a man… would you do this? For your brother?" he asked me again.

"Aye, I would," I answered him. "My brothers died young. Cailean had a twin who was thirteen when he died, but had he been aulder, had a lover, a child on the way… I ken Cailean would take her as his bride. Yer soul is damned as it is. At least do one good thing with yer life." He didn't answer me directly, but nodded. "Get back in there, and send Murtagh out here, please." He did as he was told, and Murtagh soon joined me in the hallway.

"What's this aboot?" he asked me.

"Randall's goin' te marry Mary. I need ye te serve as a witness with me," I replied.

"Marriage? What for?" Murtagh exclaimed. "Is this te save that… that man of yers from yer own time? Hasnae enough sufferin' been had in the name of that mythological prick?"

"Tom is neither mythological nor a prick," I told him. "Mary Hawkins needs a husband, or she'll be destitute on the streets starvin' and penniless."

"Then I'll marry her!" Murtagh exclaimed, and I snorted. "What? She's no' the sort of woman I'd imagine fer meself, but I'd no' spend much time doin' that, mind ye."

"Yer no' her type, I can assure ye," I told him through chuckles.

"We'd learn te get along," Murtagh snapped at me. "And I'd take care of the bairn. I was never a father, but Jamie's parents chose me te be his godfather and I've watched over him."

"And ye've been a wonderful godfather and Mary would be lucky te have ye fer her child, but we're at war. Ye could end up dead tomorrow, or imprisoned fer bein' a Jacobite," I told him.

"Randall could share the same fate, God willing," Murtagh replied stubbornly.

"Aye, he could, but as I told him, Mary would be entitled te Randall's pension and property. And he has a family pedigree tha' would provide fer better opportunities fer her," I said.

"Better than opportunities given te her by marriage te a broken down Highlander with no home and no two sticks te rub together, aye?" Murtagh asked, and I nodded.

"Aye," I said to him. "Dinnae fash, I'm no' in too different of a boat."

The clergyman arrived within twenty minutes or so, and at the foot of Alex's bed, Jonathan Wolverton Randall married Mary Hawkins, starting the line that would eventually lead to Thomas William Randall in four hundred years' time.

14 April, 1746

Two days until Culloden

JAMIE POV

Dougal informed Jamie that Colum had died in his sleep in the night, saying nothing more. He would bring Colum's body back to Leoch himself, bringing with him the men from Clan Mackenzie back to Culloden Moor. "Best ye hurry. Battle will be soon, I can sense it," Jamie told him.

"Then I'll ride like hell," Dougal had told him. Jamie was glad to bring news that Clan Mackenzie of Leoch would soon be joining them, but when he arrived at Culloden House, he found the officers already in a very deep discussion about plans for an attack.

"A surprise attack?" Charles had exclaimed as Jamie entered the tent. "During Cumberland's birthday festivities?"

"I assure ye, Yer Highness, it'll be a birthday he'll soon no' ferget," Cailean was saying to him.

"Aye, a birthday and a burial in the same day, if we're lucky," said Cameron with a scoff.

"That does not sound very gentlemanly!" Charles snapped at the man.

"Yer Highness, I think we've learned there's nothin' gentlemanly aboot war," Jamie chimed in from the entrance to the tent.

"Glad ye could join us, Fraser," Lord General Murray said with some bitterness.

"Ye must forgive me, Lord General. I received word that my uncle, chief of Clan Mackenzie of Leoch, had passed in the night," Jamie told him, earning a somewhat apologetic look from the man. "I was informed tha' his men will soon be joinin' us. My other uncle, Dougal Mackenzie, is on his way now."

"Excellent!" Charles exclaimed. "Your uncle can be assured that God will protect his soul!"

"Can we return te the matter at hand?" Lord General Murray said irritably. "If we march te Cumberland's camp at Nairn, it would mean a twelve-mile march by night! Are the men capable of such a strenuous endeavour?"

"They have not let us down yet," said Charles with pride. "Lord George, you will lead one column and I, the other. Together, we will trap the English between us!" Excitedly, he then turned his attention to the Quartermaster. "John? I look to you always."

"The plan has some merit," said O'Sullivan, clearly thinking. "I will agree to it on one condition. Fraser… You and the General shall ride together. The prince and I shall command the second column."

"I'm no' sure tha's verra wise-" Murray began to say, but Charles cut him off.

"I accept your conditions!" Charles exclaimed, and Jamie saw Cailean let out a huff of exasperation and turn away from the table. "Gentlemen, it is decided. Mark me, I shall bring my finest bottle of wine as a gift for Cumberland, and I shall present it to him when he is my prisoner." Charles laughed at his own little joke. "It will be most amusing to see his reaction." While some of the officers laughed, others drifted away outside, Cailean included. Jamie followed his good brother outside to find him fuming as he threw his cap down onto the ground.

"Damned entitled fool!" he hissed in Gaelic. "He doesnae ken our land, neither does O'Sullivan. Twelve miles in the dark, they are almost guaranteed te get lost!"

"Aye, I ken," Jamie replied solemnly. "If we succeed at this raid, we may prevent the battle altogether."

"But we willnae now because O'Sullivan and the prince need their bloody moment of glory," Cailean spat. "Catrìona's right. There's nothin' we can do te prevent this. Culloden is less than two days away, and our verra last attempt is bein' thrown away by a prideful fool. What are we te do?"

"I dinnae ken," Jamie told him. "Perhaps the prince willnae get lost after all."

"Aye, if we're lucky, which we aren't. Everra plan gets thwarted by that fool… Suppose this is what we get fer thwartin' his plans in Paris," Cailean told him, and Jamie chuckled.

"Best we just pray that the Lord will keep him straight," Jamie replied, but they both had a deep-gutted feeling that the army was doomed.

15 April, 1746

One day until Culloden

CATRÌONA POV

I arrived alone at the Rose and Crown Inn to a solemn scene. Alex was wheezing weakly, barely conscious, very clearly suffering. Mary was in tears by his side, lying beside him on the bed with no care for propriety. Against the wall, Randall was leaning with his feet holding him up and his arms crossed, and he gave me a look when I entered the room. 'It's time. Give him the herb.' The yellow jasmine. I nodded subtly, then went to the kettle that was boiling on the fire and poured it into a cup. Listening to Mary's sniffling behind me, I took the yellow jasmine out of my bag and dropped a couple of drops into the teacup, then replaced the vial and brought the cup over to the bed.

"Some tea, te help his throat," I said, offering the cup to Mary. She nodded, accepting the cup.

"H-here darling… drink this…" she said meekly, holding the cup to Alex's lips. He drank the tea willingly, then laid his head back down on the pillow. I moved to stand beside Randall, giving him a subtle nod as if to say, ' It is done.' He returned my subtle nod, and we stood in silence as we watched poor Alex Randall take his final breaths. When his chest failed to rise, Mary began to sob, throwing her arms around Alex's limp form, so I took Randall's arm in mine and led him out of the room and into the hall.

"When your brothers died… was it peaceful?" he asked me suddenly, and I shook my head.

"No," I replied solemnly. "They were shot." Randall looked down at his feet on the ground, unable to meet my eyes.

"Tomorrow, you say?" he asked me again, looking up to meet my eyes.

"Tomorrow," I replied. "I'll go and fetch the coroner." I left the Randalls alone, then, allowing a man to grieve his brother, a woman to grieve her lover. Knowing the pain of losing a dearly beloved brother, I held sympathy in my heart, but only for that reason. Randall had done nothing to deserve my sympathy otherwise.

The mist hung low over Culloden Moor. The first life claimed, the first spirit to walk the moor.

JAMIE POV

It was night now. Jamie and Lord General Murray's army had been marching for twelve miles, able to see the late night celebrations of the Duke of Cumberland's army. They had been there for four hours, with no sign of the prince's half of the army. "Where in God's name is that imbecile of a prince?" Lord General Murray spat angrily. "He was supposed to be here hours ago!"

"Aye," Jamie agreed, looking back at his men behind him, who were exhausted, cold, and hungry. "Our men are spent."

"I fear we have put too much faith in starving men," said Lord General Murray, looking back at Cumberland's camp.

"I'd take a starvin' Highlander over a drunken English soldier any day," Jamie told him. "Perhaps we could attack here, hope the prince's men turn up in time. We'd have better chances here than what awaits us on Culloden Moor tomorrow. At least we'd have surprise on our side." Suddenly, the two men were cut off by the sound of hooves approaching, and Cailean's horse rode up beside Jamie, Cailean himself huffing and puffing.

"The prince and his men… they turned back," he puffed.

"They've what? " Jamie demanded.

"Aye," said Cailean, a furious glint in his eye. "As expected, because they were led by an Irishman and a bloody Italian, they lost their way in the dark. His troops are scattered from here te Kingdom Come."

"Imbecile!" Lord General Murray hissed.

"General, let me give the signal te attack," Jamie said urgently, turning towards Murray. "We're here, they dinnae ken tha'. With a good Highland charge, we'll scare the shite right out of their arses."

"With only a portion of our force, it would be madness, Fraser!" Murray told him. "And with dawn soon approaching, we would lose any element of surprise. No, I have no choice but te call off the attack. We march back te Inverness."

"But General-"

"There's no way around it, Fraser," Murray told him. "Tomorrow, the prince will have his battle… on Culloden Moor."