Outlander - Diana Gabaldon [193]
His voice was steady, but a little thick. My own throat felt tight, and I would have touched him if I could, but the road narrowed through a small glen and I was forced to fall back behind him for a moment. By the time I came alongside again he had composed himself.
“So,” he said, taking a deep breath, “I went in to see Captain Randall. He sent the soldiers out, so we were alone, and offered me a stool. He said my father had offered security for my bond, to have me released, but that my charge was a serious one, and I could not be bonded without a written clearance signed by the Duke of Argyll, whose boundaries we were under. I reckoned that was where my father was headed, then, to see Argyll.
“In the meantime, Randall went on, there was the matter of this second flogging I was sentenced to.” He stopped a minute, as though uncertain how to go on.
“He…was strange in his manner, I thought. Verra cordial, but with something under it I didna understand. He kept watching me, as though he expected me to do something, though I was just sitting still.
“He half-apologized to me, saying he was sorry that our relations had been so difficult to the present, and that he wished the circumstances had been different, and so on.” Jamie shook his head. “I couldna imagine what he was talking about; two days earlier, he’d been trying his best to beat me to death. When he finally got down to it, though, he was blunt enough.”
“What did he want, then?” I asked. Jamie glanced at me, then away. The dark hid his features, but I thought he seemed embarrassed.
“Me,” he said baldly.
I started so violently that the horse tossed its head and whickered reproachfully. Jamie shrugged again.
“He was quite plain about it. If I would…ah, make him free of my body, he’d cancel the second flogging. If I would not—then I’d wish I’d never been born, he said.”
I felt quite sick.
“I was already wishing something of the sort,” he said, with a glint of humor. “My belly felt as though I’d swallowed broken glass, and if I hadna been sitting, my knees would have knocked together.”
“But what…” My voice was hoarse, and I cleared my throat and started over. “But what did you do?”
He sighed. “Well, I’ll no lie to ye, Sassenach. I considered it. The first stripes were still so raw on my back I could scarce bear a shirt, and I felt giddy whenever I stood up. The thought of going through that again—being bound and helpless, waiting for the next lash…” He shuddered involuntarily.
“I’d no real idea,” he said wryly, “but I rather thought being buggered would be at least a bit less painful. Men have died under the lash sometimes, Sassenach, and from the look on his face, I thought he meant me to be one of them, were that my choice.” He sighed again.
“But…well, I could still feel my father’s kiss on my cheek, and thought of what he’d say, and…well, I couldna do it, that’s all. I did not stop to think what my death might mean to my father.” He snorted, as though finding something faintly amusing. “Then, too, I thought, the man’s already raped my sister—damned if he’ll have me too.”
I didn’t find this amusing. I was seeing Jack Randall again, in a new and revolting light. Jamie rubbed the back of his neck, then dropped his hand to the pommel.
“So, I took what little courage I had left by then, and said no. I said it loud, too, and added whatever filthy names I could think of to call him, all at the top of my lungs.”
He grimaced. “I was afraid I’d change my mind if I thought about it; I wanted to make sure there was no chance of going back. Though I dinna suppose,” he added thoughtfully, “that there