The Reluctant Rebel by Barbara Henderson

Author:Barbara Henderson
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781804250303
Publisher: Luath Press Ltd
Published: 2022-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 15

Captain Fergusson, May 1746

A MAN IN his thirties cocks his head and stares down at me. His brows are singed and the sulphurous smell of burnt hair unsettles me as much as his cold eyes.

‘Captain Fergusson, with respect,’ the man beside him interjects. ‘Every minute of delay gives the rebels more time to escape. And there may be more mines.’

Fergusson nods curtly but doesn’t take his eyes off me or lower his gun.

‘Boy,’ he rasps. ‘Did you fight for him? The Young Pretender? There were people younger than you, bearing the standard for the clans, I know that much. And in a stinking nest of Jacobite vermin such as this one… ’

‘Captain!’ One of his young men points at the hillside where someone is rushing into the thicket. The distinctive hobble of Old Seamus! I must think fast.

‘I’m no friend to Charles Edward Stuart,’ I say quickly, and I suppose it is the truth, although I am no enemy to the Prince either. ‘It is his fault that my father is dead.’

That gets the captain’s attention immediately, though his eyes and mouth are tight. ‘Fought on the government side, did he? Unusual for a Moidart Man. Where did he die?’

‘Prestonpans.’ I ignore his earlier question and hope he won’t notice.

The captain looks long and hard at me. ‘Is the old rebel dog Angus MacDonald at home?’

I don’t answer.

‘Is he?’ The second soldier hits me broadside with the barrel of his musket.

‘Master Angus does not share his plans with me. I am just a stable boy.’ The next strike of the barrel hits me square on the side of the head and hot blood trickles down my temple.

Clutching my head, I’m out of ideas. The men walk me back towards Borrodale. I move as slowly as I dare to buy time, more than aware of the muskets which could hole me through at the slightest twitch of a red-sleeved finger.

I look straight ahead, but out of the corner of my eye I notice the old ginger mare is gone from the paddock, so Master Ranald must have got away. Master John will have fled on foot. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was still nearby on account of the threat to his dear mother. If only the Prince could see us now. What would he say?

We reach the door of Borrodale and I’m about to raise my fist to knock when I find myself roughly shoved aside.

‘We’ll not knock like a servant,’ the captain snarls. ‘We are the government, and we knock for no-one, certainly not for some white-cockade viper’s brood like this.’

The cook is peering through the almost-shut kitchen door and Meg is holding on to the banister on the landing upstairs. She must have run to the lady after the blast. The captain seems to notice neither of them. He yells at the top of his voice, ‘Jacobite vermin! Come out to face the king’s justice.’

Meg flinches but continues to hold her head high.

I fear for her and risk a sideways glance at the captain’s face.

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