Chapter 1: Rinse and Repeat

Come early 1746 and Claire Fraser's trade became fairly well known in all of the City of Edinburgh, and its surrounding areas and she had been called away further and further, much to Jamie's chagrin. At the same time, it was becoming quite apparent even without the regular and continuant news updates from the enemy she had become accustomed to during the course of the awkward, but utilitarian arrangement she had had with Jack, that the affair of the rebellion was not going well. Each moment took them closer and closer to the inevitable fate of thousands of Scottish men and their supporters'.

Claire had to admit that these months could be their last together and Jamie was quite right in his demands of her to slow down on aiding others and allow him to love his wife a little bit more. On her way back to Hollyrood Palace after having attended a patient with high fever, the Englishwoman promised herself she would pass on any other professional calls for the rest of day, as much as to please Jamie, and also so that she could have a few moments of repose and the chance of feeling something pleasant for a change. Deep in thought and looking forward to quality time with her husband, the hushed voice coming out the freezing mist behind her shoulder startled her.

"I believe The Western Road to Leith is quiet enough for a private conversation for the time being."

It was Randall, of course it was Randall, approaching her in a no different manner than he had for the duration his brother Alexander was under Claire's medical care, but his current appearance was unexpected enough for Claire to look up and turn to her side where he had joined her, taking her attention away from the Royal Mile's cobblestones which could turn dangerously slippery and treacherous if temperatures dipped below freezing, or when it was heavily raining, which when it came right down to it, covered a lot of the time of the year. The oversight almost turned detrimental as the heel of one of her boots did skid. Fearing not as much for herself getting harmed, but a jolt of panic at the prospect of her in-view-of-the-battle-newly-replenished, valuable medicine bottles breaking if her bag touched the stony ground, her free hand looked for purchase on instinct and found it in the shape of a muscular, albeit relatively thin arm, locking muscles and providing the solid hold she needed.

"Madam." Jack acknowledged the occurrence and took the opportunity to steer her in the direction mentioned, polite and outwardly gentlemanly as ever afore they both let go at the same time, broken out of the startlement of the touch.

In customary manner, they uttered no more words till stopping at their ad-hoc destination, where the army officer looked around to make sure they were out of earshot of everyone before he continued, "the Hessian forces of five thousand have arrived, along with the Government Cavalry. And yet the Duke of Cumberland has no plans to attack. The plan is to wait. Wait out till the Jacobites run out of money and food, which he thinks is not far. There have already been reports of some clan regiments slaughtering their horses to eat. I advise, for you and your husband to stay away. The orders are for no mercy, at any time before, during, or after a very likely favourable battle at several thousand men advantage."

Jack had surprised her into a slow blink, but she got herself together shortly after. Standing face to face, and close together for the sake of their words not travelling far, her health professional instincts assessed him quickly. Of course married life would not favour him, not under the circumstances of mourning his brother and having to do with limited supplies, the British Army themselves. He was pale, with dark shadows under his eyes, more than before, and there was something off about his usually stiff stance, though Claire couldn't quite place it. "You are under no more obligation to supply me with any news." The brunette stated the obvious that he somehow seemed to have missed.

He nodded curtly. "I was hoping we could extend our previous agreement."

"Oh." That made more sense than him supplying them with information that could save their lives of his own accord. "Is it my medical services you need? Is Mary alright?" Claire found her concern directed at the younger woman. "For her sake, you don't need to bribe me. I would go willingly, for a friend." Besides, it's not like any information Jack would give her would save any Scot destined to die on that battlefield now, that much had become clear.

"She is well, for the time being. Which is why I need your help. There is nobody else I could trust with her welfare and nobody else I think capable of keeping her safe and well and away from harm's way."

"Is your garrison leaving for Aberdeen then?" The nurse supposed it was time for the English forces that had so far remained in Edinburgh to join the rest of their troops.

"No, Madam," Jack established grimly, "my garrison, or as much as it remains of it might never leave," he imparted mysteriously as he dug into the inside of his mantel to pull a small leather pouch off his belt he promptly placed into Claire's hand, making physical contact once more in a similarly startling manner as before.

Taken aback, she frowned slightly in confusion, "what is this Captain?" She questioned.

"Ten pounds. The most of the rest of my funds. For your expenses, and possibly, Mary's. I would send her to her aunt's house if I would be sure she would stay there. But having cared for Alex for many months in his catching state as he was, she just simply takes it upon herself to care for the random, dying men of the garrison, certainly no less catching. I need you to keep her away from the outbreak."

Claire felt an inkling to laugh despite the dire situation they have all found themselves in lately, or maybe because of it. The irritation in his voice was telling of how ridiculously he could not command his wife. With how he'd promised his brother to not to let her want for anything, it would've been highly inappropriate to treat her to any of that darkness he harboured and it amused Claire endlessly that he was forced to act decent. "There's an outbreak amongst your men?" She relented, reality always at odds with her inner wishes.

"The bloody flux. Half a dozen dead and three times as much not looking better for wear."

The time traveller had to squash the urge to roll her eyes. At least cholera hadn't reached Europe yet, but that still left a catalogue of diarrhoeic diseases that went simply by the name of the damned flux. Add some unhygienic conditions and foodstuff of mainly dubious origins and basically any gastrointestinal infection could get hold on a large scale. "What are the symptoms?"

"They can't keep from soiling themselves, all blood and water. There's fever and the cramps appear to be intense." Jack shook his head slightly, as if disquieted. It puzzled her a little how he blew the air out and then recovered his composure with crinkling his nose as it gave her the distant impression that he did at some level, care about those poor bastards. "They die grasping their bellies, in their own filth."

Claire contemplated her options. Flying to the rescue of the enemy hardly seemed the recommended course of action. Besides, it wasn't likely that there was much she could do for the men who had already fallen victim to the disease. From the symptoms and the general pattern of the era, dysentery sounded most likely and may the cause be whatever bacteria or otherwise, dealing with the outbreak would take similar outlines. "Listen to me very carefully Captain. I will tell you the plan of action if you want to save any of your men," she looked him square in the eyes, talking urgently. "Diseases like this tend to be self limiting and resolve on their own, as long as we can keep the body alive to do its job. What people die from is losing all the water in their bodies that they need," she explained. It could be pretty obvious and yet it wasn't always to those in the present-day.

His gaze sharpened and Claire guessed he would've commented if circumstances were different, look down upon his nose for her treating him like an half-wit, but it seemed like those days were gone for now. "You have to constantly give them more. The only way to make sure it's safe to do so and not spread the disease further is to boil it beforehand. Put a pinch of salt and a squirt of honey in each pint. Those are to replenish minerals and nutrients the body is also losing," she gave him the basics of rehydration, not caring for explaining wording. "They should also keep eating while ill. Recovery takes longer if they don't. Keep them as clean as possible and soiled belongings should ideally be burned or at the very least also boiled. As for those caring for them, they should frequently wash their hands in boiled water too as not to spread the contagion. Do you understand what I'm saying? Will you remember it? Will you do it?" She pressed. It didn't sit well with her that only just at the other side of the Royal Mile there were people dying she could not help.

Jonathan Randall nodded curtly, but solemn enough for her to view as consent and on turn, Jack took her urging words as a sign that she had agreed to his terms, "you will find Mary at Bonnington Mills. She is under the false impression that she is procuring flour for the troops and waiting for me there as per my instructions. Whatever she buys, you are welcome to take." He nodded at her once more and before she had any chance to change her mind or say anything else, he disappeared in the direction they came from, mingling with customers and servants, rushing to get under shelter, away from the nippy air of the January twilight.

Tbc