Chapter 25: Leather, As It Were
"What is going on here Leftenant?" The question was Jack's first undertaking on the new job on arrival to the hard to find, dismal fortress, surely a punishment to live in both for prisoners and captors.
"Captain Randall?" The questioned showed surprise at his intended superior materialising in the mist.
"In the flesh," the newcomer dismounted, "my mare needs rest, but I would be happy to take over command for whatever endeavours the men were sent out for if you could give me a different horse, Leftenant...the name escapes me," he admitted, though he had seen the full roll of both his captives and subordinates.
"George Adderton, Sir," the thin officer provided him with the information. "There's no need for concern, I can assure you, everything is under control now," he frowned sheepishly, "the men are simply leaving to let the others know that the search can be called off. We have all the prisoners, all one hundred and ninety six of them."
Jack looked at him sideways and stern, "am I to understand that you have lost some of the prisoners entrusted to your tending?"
"Yes, Sir, but no. As you must be well aware, there is nowhere to escape to, nowhere to go around here. Empty, treacherous moorland all around for days' worth of travelling at the backside of the country, savage at that, with the trifle incommodious Scottish weather."
"Are you trivialising the matter Leftenant!"
"No, Sir." Adderton looked guilty, "it's just the way it has always been around here, if I may. It has never been a difficult matter for prisoners to escape from Ardsmuir. There is a reason why nobody wants to live around here. The seacliffs drop into the ocean three miles away and there was an incident a few years back when someone got loose to end their lives there, but this isn't the case this time. We have recaptured the fugitive, currently in solitary confinement, awaiting punishment I am glad to hand over responsibility for, along with the rest of the duties that come with the position."
"Are you really going to give me a full report here, or can we get out the rain?" Jack started impatiently.
"Oh, I apologise, Captain. I am simply so used to the rain being on all the time that I have forgotten others might not be. This way, Sir," he took the reigns of Jack's horse and showed the way by manoeuvring the animal round mountains of peat plausibly gathered there for the renovations of the fortress. "Get the Captain's quarters ready at once!" He barked at a scraggly man as soon as they entered the gatehouse, clearly used to giving orders in the absence of a superior the Crown had always had difficulties replacing at this particular part of the back of beyond.
No more words were spoken till he had his captain seated by the fire in what appeared to be a small study on the first floor of the main building, a generous helping of whiskey in hand Jack didn't really have much inclination to refuse, with dubious near future effects on his stomach or not. He had almost forgotten how deep the cold could seep into the bones with the unrelenting Scottish wind and rain, something he was once used to and could still undoubtedly cope with, but liking it was another matter.
"The alcohol-the one thing the Scots do well," Adderton mused, raising his glass, "to Ardsmuir's new commander in charge," he called.
"Alright," Jack sat down his glass after draining every sip of its contents. His direct subordinate sounded accepting of the existing rank difference between them, but he knew that the concept will have to be reinforced in Adderton's mind for safety's sakes by Jack establishing his authority in an unquestionable way at some point soon. "Now. Tell me what has happened."
"I'm afraid I hadn't gotten round to interrogate the prisoner, Sir. He was only just brought back prior to your arrival. It makes no sense however, the escape, none of it does," the lieutenant sounded puzzled.
"You must be missing something then," Jack suggested, glad of the opening. Given the happenstance, he might be able to deem Adderton incompetent sooner, rather than later. "I shall interrogate the convict myself," he grabbed the opportunity, certain of his methods of interrogation to get to the truth.
"Bring him in," the man formerly in charge ordered the sentry at the door, who set off at once to forward the order.
"What instruments you have here in lieu of interrogation?" Jack enquired offhandedly, putting it out there as a statement that he took no nonsense, "a peine forte et dure set perhaps?" He started with asking for the only torture device still lawful for use in the country, a set of larger and larger stones that were supposed to be placed on the litigator's chest in order till they either confessed or died. "If there's no commonsensible reason to escape around here, then there must be a plan in motion the escapee was setting up and we need to know what it is.
"We have a peine forte et dure," Adderton admitted somewhat wearily. He was not against violence, by no means, but usually the harsh conditions around the place were sufficient enough for both effective punishment and threats.
"What are you waiting for then." The newcomer looked pointedly at him.
Adderton slunk over to the doorway, avoiding further conflict with his Captain as reality was starting to sink in, he was in charge no more. "Chapman," he barked at the remaining sentry, "have someone prepare the peine forte et dure."
"Where...where is that?" The poor sentinel did not want to argue with a superior either, but he genuinely had no idea they even possessed the kind of instrumentation.
"Ask Hamilton." The lieutenant seemed to be at a loss as well, "he does the inventory. And nimble, Captain's orders!" He added as a motivator, then caught the glance of the prisoner as he was being brought in wearing heavy irons on both his hands and legs. "Captain Randall, this is the man who had caused the fuss, a formal chieftain, James Fraser, if you've heard about him."
Jack regarded the entrant frozen to the spot. Of course, he should've known that the troublemaker would be no other than the bullheaded Scot. He had been expecting the moment when he met Jamie again, playing it over in his mind in different ways a million times and one of the scenarios he'd imagined, fantasised about if he wanted to admit to himself, was the Highlander being brought to him for punishment, for him to do as he pleased, and yet the circumstances and the weight of the moment still surprised him. His eyes devoured the sight: it looked like captivity could not make the living fire in Jamie fade. No matter the beard, the thinner frame or the pull of the chains, with those stubborn, unwavering eyes and the stance of a warrior, Jack was sure that the Laird of Lallybroch would yield no more easily than any other times. It also surprised him that the flames of adoration in him for the man would rekindle so easily, though of course it couldn't be any other way. He had once been in love with Jamie, he was his first love, that if he didn't count the inappropriate feelings he had for Alex as they should have not been counted since he never acted upon those.
The nonresponsivenes of his superior was interpreted by Adderton as puzzlement. "I should've said Red Jamie, everybody who has dealt with Jacobites would know that name."
"We are well acquainted," Jamie answered for him, enjoying the little reaction of disruption and startlement the announcement caused.
"You don't seem surprised to see me," Jack established.
"Some of my men overheard the name, that it is Black Jack who was taking over."
"Your men." The Captain's forehead creased. "Traditional rights of jurisdiction afforded to Scottish clan chieftans over population has been abolished by the crown if you haven't heard."
Jamie gave a half hearted shrug, "no Frasers or MacKenzies here, but the men reckon me their leader for some grounds or another and as such, a canna take it lightly and disappoint them. Which is why a had ta leave before your reaching and collect as much arrowgrass and sea radish as possible, in case measures are stricter aft. A canna verra well let them die of scurvy in there. A only wish my sack ta be given to them afore I'm to be taken for punishment. Some of the prisoners are in a dire way."
Adderton snorted, "such an intelligent man as yourself cannot be serious suggesting he escaped to collect grass!" The smaller man gave him the wide eye.
Jack however was only surprised Jack had volunteered to disclose his cause. "What are the prisoners given as alimentation?" He questioned his subordinate.
"Porridge, on Sundays mixed with chunks of meat."
"In that case, it is critical to have some greens if we want them to work for us effectively."
"Greens, Sir?" Adderton couldn't help himself.
"Yes." Jack established firmly, "it is good for vitality, to ward off infection and for digestion too." It was perfectly clear from the diet Claire had prescribed for him, with the proof of his own experience to know it was correct too.
Jamie almost stopped breathing as he regarded his archenemy suspiciously, "aye and a ken just the one root you would'a heard that."
"What?" Adderton looked from one to the other and back, at a loss.
"Search his sack, see if he's telling the truth," Jack ordered the guards who brought in the escapee, for appearances' sakes. Jamie wasn't a liar, he knew that much and there was no reason for him to start now.
"All green and wet in here," the quicker of the two soldiers reported, just as puzzled as Adderton had been.
"Very well," Jack summarised his meaning. "Get that mush to its intended destination."
There was a pause, in which Adderton looked like he was going to question his new superior's sanity for believing that tale, but then he thought better of it, "and the punishment for escaping, with whatever purpose that was?"
"Well, what is the customary punishment for such a deed around here?"
"Fifty lashes, Sir."
tbc