Everyone was squinting up at the setting sun, waving clouds of gnats from their eyes and discussing when they had last known the time. How very odd, I thought, with some amusement. Why this preoccupation with measuring time? And yet I had it, too.
I tried to think when the last time had been for me. At Jocasta's wedding? No-on the field near Alamance Creek, just before the battle. Colonel Ashe had had a pocket watch, and-I stopped, remembering. No. It was after the battle. And that was very likely the last time Roger had known what time it was-if he had been sufficiently conscious to hear one of the Army surgeons announce that it was then four o'clock-and to give his considered opinion that Roger would not live to see the hour of five.
"What else can you do with it, Da?"
Bree handed the astrolabe careffilly back to Jamie, who took it and at once began polishing away the fingermarks with the tail of his shirt.
"Oh, a great number of things. Ye can find your position, whether on land or at sea, tell the time, find a particular star in the sky . . ."
"Very useful," I observed. "Though perhaps not quite so convenient as a clock. But I suppose telling time wasn't your chief intent?"
"No." He shook his head, stowing the astrolabe tenderly away in its velvet bag. "I must have the land of the two grants properly surveyed-and soon." "Why soon?" Bree had been turning to go, but turned back at this, one brow raised.
"Because time grows short." Jamie looked up at her, the pleasure of his
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subsiding into seriousness. He glanced over his shoulder, but there gxquisition
-was no one left on the porch save himself and me, Brianna and Roger.
-d byhad gone down to the Mr. Wainwright, uninterested in scientific marvels,
was lugging his packs into the house, aid Mr. Bug, and hindered wrd and Everyone on the Ridge would know he joy Mrs. Bug's running commentary. e to buy, sell, and hear the was here by tomorrow, and would come to the hous
1grest news.
,'Ye ken what's coming) the two of ye." Jamie glanced from Bree to Rogerbut the land will stay. And if we are to hold this land King May fall, perly surveyed and registered. When there is
'through it all, we must have it prol ybe have it seized-it's the devil trouble, when folk must leave their land or ma
'and all to get back, but it's maybe possible, forbye-and ye have a proper deed to say what was once yours."
The sun sparked gold and fire from the curve of his head as he looked UP. dark line of the mountains, silhouetted by a glorious :He nodded toward the Id see from the look of distance in his spray of pink and gold cloud, but I cou
,yes that he saw something far beyond d of sasine. And Young Simon, e
I "Lallybroch-we Saved it by means of a dee f it back at Lovat's son-he fought for his land, after Culloden, and got most 0
last. But only because he had the papers to prove what had been his- SO."
He put back the- lid of the box he had brought out, and laid the velvet bag orge or the other who gently in it. ,I will have papers. And whether it is one Ge his rules in time-this land will be ours. And Yours)" he added softly, raising eyes to Brianna's. "And your children's after you." . His skin was warm with
I laid my hand on his, where it rested on the box
melt of clean sweat, The hairs on his fore work and the heat of the day, and he s
arm shone red and gold in the sun, and I understood very well just then, why it is that men measure time. They wish to fix a moment )in the vain hope that SO doing will keep it from departing.
NO SMALL THING
HAD COPAE Up TO the big house to borrow a book. RiANNA n with Mrs. Bug, and went down the hall to She left Jemmy in the kitche hough it smelled
Bher father's study. He was gone, the room empty, t leather, sawfaintly of him-some indefinable masculine scent, composed of
dust, sweat, whisky, manure-and ink. twitching, and smiled at the She rubbed a finger under her nose, nostrils d yet he had his own scent, thought. Roger smelled of those things, too-an
678 Diana Gabaldo.
underneath. What was it? she wondered. His hands used to smell slightly of varnish and metal, when he owned a guitar. But that was long ago and f away. ar
Pushing away the thought, she bent her attention to the books on the shelf. Fergus had brought back three new books f
rom his latest trip
to Wilmington: a set of essays by Michel de Montaigne-those were in French, no good-a tattered copy of Daniel Defoe's Moll Flanders, and a very thin, paper-covered book by B. Franklin, The Means and Manner of Obtaining Virtue.
No contest, she thought, plucking out Moll Flanders. The book had seen hard use; the spine was cracked and the pages loose. She hoped they were all there; nothing worse than reaching a good part of the story and discovering that the next twenty pages were missing. She flipped carefully through, checking, but the pages seemed to be complete, if occasionally crumpled or stained with food. The book had a rather peculiar smell, as though it had been dipped in tallow.
A sudden crash from her mother's surgery jerked her from her contemplation of the books. She looked instinctively for Jem-but of course he wasn't there. Shoving the book hastily back into place, she rushed out of the study, only to meet her mother hurrying down the hall from the kitchen.
She beat Claire to the door of the surgery by a scant moment. Clem! 51
The door of the big standing cupboard stood ajar, and the smell of honey was strong in the air. A broken stoneware bottle lay on the floor in a sticky golden puddle, and Ternmy sat in the middle of it, liberally smeared, his blue eyes absolutely round, mouth open in guilty shock.
Blood surged into her face. Ignoring the stickiness, she grabbed him by the arm and stood him on his feet.
"Jeremiah Alexander MacKenzie," Brianna said, in awful tones, "you are a Bad Boy!" She checked him hastily for blood or injury, found none, and fetched him a smack on the bottom', hard enough to make the palm of her hand sting.
The resulting screech gave her an instant qualm of guilt. Then she saw the rest of the carnage in the surgery, and quelled the impulse to spank him again. "Jeremiah!"
Bunches of dried rosemary, yarrow, and thyme had been pulled out of the drying rack and shredded. One of the gauze shelves of the rack itself had been pulled loose, the fabric ripped and hanging. Bottles and jars from the cupboards lay tipped and rolling; some of the corks had fallen out, spilling multicolored powders and liquids. A big linen bag of coarse ground salt had been rifled, handsfiil of the crystals tossed around with abandon.
Worst of all, her mother's amulet lay on the floor, the little leather pouch torn open, flat and empty. Scattered bits of dried plants, a few tiny bones and other debris lay strewn round it.
"Mama, I'm so sorryhc got away. I wasn't looking-I should have kept a better eye on-" She had nearly to shout her apologies, to be heard above Jemmy's bawling.
Claire, flinching slightly at the noise, looked round the surgery, taking
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tory. Then she stooped and picked Jenuny up, disregarding the hasty inven
honey. gin f,y, "Shhhh," she said, putting a hand lightly over his mouth. This provin e e, she patted the hand over the gaping, orifice, producing a "wa-wa-wa-
fectiv de Jemmy stop bellowing at once. He stuck a thumb in sound that ma
is mouth, snuffling loudly round it, and pressed a filthy cheek to Claire's ulder.
,Well, they do get into things," she said to Bree, looking more amused than set. "Don't worry, darlin& it's only a bit of a mess. He couldn't reach the knives, thank goodness, and I keep the poisons up high, too."
Brianna felt her heart begin to slow down. Her hand felt hot, pulsing with er's "But your amulet she pointed, and saw a shadow cross her moth
bce when she saw the desecration. back, and put him down. ,; "Oh." Claire took a deep breath, patted TeMMY's
oped and gingerly picked up the limP Her teeth set in her lower lip, she sto
pouch with its draggled feathers.
4cilm sorry," Brianna repeated, helplessly. ade a small dismissive ges-
- effort it cost, but her mother in
She could see the Cs from the floor. Her curly ture, before crouching to pick up the bits and piec
-d hiding her face.
,hair was untied, and swung forwar ng," Claire said. She gingerly bet4i always did wonder what was in this thi efully in the palm of one gan to pick up the tiny bones, collecting them car
hand. ,What do you think these are from-a shrew' " and began -1 don't know." Keeping a wary eye on Jemmy, Brianna squatted
mouse or a bat." cq thought maybe they were from a
to pick things up. ised. "Aren't You clever-look." She Her mother glanced up at her, surpri
-d a small, papery brown object from the floor and held it out. Bending plucke
to took closer, Brianna could see that the thing that looked like a crumpled dried leaf was in fact a fragment of a tiny bat's wing, the fragile leather dried to rving through it like the central rib translucence, a bone slender as a needle cu
of a leaf.
"Eye of newt, and toe of ftog/ wool of bat, and tongue of dog," Claire handful of bones onto tile counter, looking at them quoted. She spilled the t by that'll
with fascination. "I wonder what she mean
"She?" me the pouch." Crouching, Claire "Nayawenne-the woman who gave
t Brianna. hoped they were real swept up the crumbled bits of leaf-at leas dors in the air of leaves-into her hand) and sniffed them, There were so many o
couldn't distinguish anything beyond the overthe surgery that she herself idntiy her mother's sensitive nose had no whelming sweetness of honey, but ev
trouble in makingout individual scents.
"Bayberry, balsam fir) wild ginger, and Arsesmart," she said, sniffing like a nk." truffle-hound. ,Bit of sage, too, I thi ght of you 11 In spite of her
4',Axsesmart? is that a comment on what she thou distress;, Brianna laughed.
"Fla bloody ha," he mother replied tartly, dusting the little heap of dried
680 Diana Gabald..
plant matter onto the table with the bones. "Otherwise known as water-pepper ooks-gives you blisters and It's a rather irritating little thing that grows near br
smarts the eyes-or other things, I imagine, if you happen to carelessly sit on it."
Jemmy, rebukes forgotten, had got hold of a surgical clamp and was turning it to and fro, evidently trying to decide whether it was edible. Brianna debated taking it away from him, but given that her mother always sterilized her metal implements by boiling, decided to let him keep it for the moment, since it had no sharp edges.
Leaving him with Claire, she went back to the kitchen to fetch hot water and some cloths with which to deal with the honey. Mrs. Bug was there but was sound asleep, snoring gently on the settle, hands folded on her rounded stomach, her kerch comfortably askew over one ear.
Tiptoeing back with the bucket of water and a handful of cloths, she found most of the debris already swept up, and her mother crawling round on hands and knees, peering under things.
"Have you lost something?" She glanced at the bottom shelf of the cupboard, but didn't see anything missing, bar the honey-jar. The other bottles had been neatly stoppered and replaced, and everything looked much as usual.
"Yes." Claire crouched lower, frowning as she peered under the cupboard itself. "A stone. About so big"--she held out a hand, thumb and index finger circled, describing a sphere about the diameter of a small coin-"and a sort of grayish-blue. Translucent in spots. It's a raw sapphire."
"Was it in the cupboard? Maybe Mrs. Bug moved it." Claire sat back on her heels, shaking her head.
"No, she doesn't touch anything in here. Besides, it wasn't in the capboard-it was in there." She nodded at the table, where the amulet's empty pouch lay beside the bones and plant debris.
A quick search-and then a slower one-of the surgery revealed no sign of the stone.
"You know," Claire said, running a hand through her hair as she looked thoughtfully at Jemmy, "I hate to suggest this, but do you think ... ?" "Shi-I mean rats," Brianna said, concern escalating to mild alarm. She
stooped to took at Jemmy, who loffily ignored her, concentrating on the job of inserting the surgical clamp into his left nostril. "There were crumbs of dried plant matter stuck to the honey around his mouth, but surely that was just rosemary or thyme. . .
Offended at the close scrutiny, he tried to whack her with the clamp, but she seized his wrist in a grip of iron, removing the clamp from his grasp with her other hand.
"Don't hit Mummy," she said automatically, "it's not nice. Jem--did you swallow Grannie's rock?"
"No," he said, just as automatically, grabbing at the clamp. "Mine!"
She sniffed at his face, causing him to lean back at an alarming angle, but couldn't be sure. She didn't think it was rosemary, though.
"Come smell him," she said to her mother, standing up. "I can't tell." Claire stooped to oblige, and femmy shrieked in giggling alarm, preparing for an enjoyable game of "Eat me up." He was disappointed, though; his
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merely inhaled deeply, said definitely, "wild ginger," then leaned 'pridmother
k ing a damp cloth to rub away the honey smears, in spite for a closer took, seiz
plicreasing howls of protest.
ed at the soft skin around his mouth. Freshly cleansed, ."I-ook." Claire point two or three tiny blisters, like seed pearls.
na could see them clearly in the eye. "Tell rnly, attempting to took him
Flereniiah," she said ste. ,
my. Did you eat Grannie s rocV' g both hands protecJeremiah avoided her gaze and wriggled away, Puttin
ly behind him. "Nod nice!"
No hit," he said. ed him, grabbing an escaping foot. "I,m not going to spank you," she assur this big" She held up want to know. Did you *swallow a rock about
aggled. b and forefinger. JemmY 9 . word, applied without distinction "Hot," he said. That was his new favorite
,any object he liked. s, sighing in exasperation, then opened them to look Brianna closed her eye
ber mother. it hurt him'" ing a
5""I'm afraid so. Will app* "Shouldn,t think SO." Claire regarded her grandson thoughtfully, t
r against her lips. Then she crossed the room, opening one of the high boards and withdrawing a large brown-glass bottle- r a spoon. "Not -Castor-bean oil," she explained, rummaging in a drawer fo
ite as tasty as honey," she added, fixing lemmy with a gimlet eye, "but very ctive."
T BE effective, but it took a while - Keeping a close eye ('_A$TOR OIL MIGH f wooden blocks after be-
n Jemmy, Who was set down to play with his basket o surgery, and Claire used the waiting time to tidy the )r mediI,ing dosed, Brianna and ming, job of compounding
then turned to the Peaceffil, but time-r-011su e to do this, and there was a cines. It was some time since Claire had had tim. ds to be shredded, grated, staggering profusion of leaves and roots and see th alcohol, strained pounded, boiled in water, steeped in oil, extracted wi . h d
. stirred into melted beeswax or bear grease- mixed wit groun through gauze, lls, then jarred or bottled or bagged for preservation.
talc, or rotted into pi warm day, and they lcft the windows open for the breeze, it was a pleasantly itly swatting flies, shooing gnats, and picking even though this meant constar out of some bubbling solution-
the occasional enthusiastic bumblebee to brush away a honeybee that -ached hastily
"Be careful, sweetie!" Brianna re could grab it, "Bad bug. had lighted on one of jemmy's blocks, just before Jem
Ouchic!" ri,yll Claire said, waving away another. -I'd better give "They smell their ho a bowl of honey-water on the windowsill, and them some of it'back." She set k about the rin, of it, drinking greedily.
within momentsi bees were thic blotting a trickle of sWel
46siftge-minded, aren't they?" Brianna observed
that ran between her breasts. Claire murmured
4Well, single-mindedness will get you a long way,"
682 Diana Gabaldon
absently, frowning slightly as she stirred a solution warming over an alcohol lamp. "Does this look done to you?"
"You know a lot better than I do." Still, she bent obligingly and sniffed. 111 think so; it smells pretty strong.,)
Claire dipped a quick finger into the bowl, then tasted it.
"Mm, Yes, I think so." Taking the bowl off the flame, she Poured the dark greenish liquid carefully through a gauze strainer into a bottle, Several other tall glass bottles stood in a row on the counter, the sunlight glovNri
their contents like red and green and ye ng through _11ow gems.
"Did you always know you were meant to be a doctor?" Brianna asked curiously. Her mother shook her head, skillfully shreddin a handful of do ood bark with a sharp knif gw
e. 9 "Never thought of it when I was young. Girls mostly didn't, then, of course. Growing up, I always assumed that I'd marry, have children, make a home. . does Lizzie look all right to 37OLI? I thought she was looking a bit yellow round the edges last night, but it Might only have been the candlelighe,
"I think she's all right. Do you think she's really in love with Manfred?" They had celebrated Lizzie S betrothal to Manfred MacGillivray the night before, with the entire MacGillivray family traveling from their homestead for a lavish supper. Mrs. Bug, who was fond Of Lizzie, had given of her best; no wonder she was asleep today.
"No," Claire said frankly. "But as long as she isn't in love with anyone else, it's probably all right. He's a good lad, and quite good-looking. And Lizzle likes his mother, which is also a good thing, under the circumstances." She smiled at the thought of Ute MacGillivray, who had taken Lizzie at once under her capacious maternal Wing, picking out particularly delicious tidbits and poking them assiduously down Lizzie's gullet, like a robin feeding a puny nestling.
"I think she may like Mrs. MacGillivray more than she likes Manfred. She was really young when her own mother died; it's nice
one again." Brianna glanced at her mother from the for her to sort of have corner of her eye. She could remember all too well the feeling of being motherless-and the sheer bliss of being mothered once Ore. By reflex, she
holding an animated if mostl M n glanced at Jemmy, who was Y uni telligible conversation with Adso the cat. Claire nodded, rubbing the shredded bark between her hands into a small round jar full of alcohol.
"Yes. Still, I think it's as well they Wait a bit-Lizzie and Manfred, I meanand get used to each other." It had been agreed that the marriage would take place the next summer, after Manfred had finished setting up his , hop in Woolam's Creek. S
"What?" "I hope this will work."
"The dogwood bark." Claire stoppered the bottle and put it in the cupboard. "Dr. Rawlings casebook says it can be used as a substitute for cinchona bark-for quinine, you know. And it's certainly easier to get, to say nothing of less expensive."
"Great-I hope it does work." Lizzie's malaria had stayed in abeyance for several months-but there was always the threat of recurrence, and cinchona bark was hideously expensive.
The Fiery Cross 683