Outlander (2014–…): Season 1, Episode 6 - The Garrison Commander - full transcript

Claire and Dougal are questioned at the local garrison, and Dougal is treated with hostility and disdain by the British occupiers. Claire lets down her guard, but her headstrong opinions get her into trouble again, and she discovers the true nature of Black Jack Randall when left alone with him.

Previously...

I seem to have fallen through time.

You need not be scared of me,

nor anyone else here,
so long as I'm with ye.

I'm leaving tomorrow, and
I'm taking you with me.

I think it would be wise
to have a healer along.

- You're not Frank.
- No, madam, I'm not.

You know Black Jack Randall?

I won't risk you or anyone else

being taken prisoner by that man.

Captain of Dragoons in the British Army



and your direct ancestor.

Exactly.

Otherwise known as Black Jack.

Flogged me twice in the space of a week.

The activities Dougal and
his men were involved in...

they were political.

Dougal was raising money
for a Jacobite Army.

Pleasure to see you again.

Once more I ask you,
is everything all right?

♪ Sing me a song of
a lass that is gone ♪

♪ say, could that lass be I. ♪

♪ Merry of soul she
sailed on a day ♪

♪ over the sea to skye. ♪

♪ Billow and breeze,
islands and seas, ♪



♪ mountains of rain and sun ♪

♪ all that was good,
all that was fair ♪

♪ all that was me is gone. ♪

♪ Sing me a song of
a lass that is gone ♪

♪ say, could that lass be I. ♪

♪ Merry of soul she
sailed on a day ♪

♪ over the sea ♪

♪ to skye...♪

- Synced and corrected by Retrojex -
- www.addic7ed.com -

_

Tell me, madam.

Are you here by your own choice?

I appreciate your concern, lieutenant,

and I can assure you

I am a guest of the Clan Mackenzie.

As you wish.

Nevertheless, I am certain my commander

will wish to speak with you.

He's presently in residence
at the inn at Brockton.

Will you accompany me?

Well,

if the lady goes, I go.

Very well then.

Even though I wasn't
going by my own choice,

I still felt a heaviness
leave my breast.

And for the first time since I passed

through the standing
stones at Craigh na Dun,

I found myself surrounded
by my own people.

They might be called
Redcoats instead of Tommies,

but they were still the British Army

I had been a part of for six long years.

And somehow it felt
liberating to be looked upon

with sympathy and respect

instead of hostility and suspicion.

I knew only too well
what Dougal was feeling.

A Scottish village it may be,

and on Mackenzie land at that,

but for Dougal, it was
now enemy territory,

and he was the outlander.

Dismount.

Whoa.

Each man see to it that his
horse is grained and watered.

I would not entrust their
care to our Scottish hosts.

If you'll follow me.

My lord, may I present
Mrs. Claire Beauchamp

and Mr. Dougal...

Come in. Come in.

This is a happy surprise.

A most enjoyable surprise.

It has been far too
long since I last gazed

upon a lovely English rose.

The Lieutenant here claims

you have quite the story to tell.

I'm so grateful you're
willing to listen to it.

No, nonsense. I love stories.

I've not heard a good
one since I first set foot

upon this blasted turf.

You must be absolutely famished.

I hope venison is to your liking.

Only the very best
quality, I assure you.

Thank you.

I shot the beast myself.

It's a great country for hunting,

I'll give them that.

The cheese is surprisingly edible too,

and the claret is my
own, bottled in '35.

Need I say more?

Now, Lieutenant Foster,
you're going to introduce me

to this noble Scottish gentleman.

My lord, may I present Dougal Mackenzie,

war chief to the Clan Mackenzie
and brother to its Laird.

You have the honor of
meeting Brigadier General

Sir Oliver Lord Thomas,

knight of the bath
and commanding officer

of the northern British Army.

War chief, eh?

I'll say this for
you, you look the part.

A fine specimen of the
local inhabitants, my Lord.

How am I to address you, sir?

Ye kin call me mackenzie,
if in it please ye,

or if we're being formal, ye
can call me Chief Mackenzie,

which in matters of war and bicker

leaves us ower fae each
other as equals dinnae ye ken.

I don't know about the rest of you,

but I failed to understand a single word

the creature said.

I believe, my Lord, he
was attempting to say

Chief Mackenzie would be acceptable.

There was more, but I
must confess, it eluded me.

Really...

someone really ought to teach
these people the king's English.

I believe he's speaking english, Sir.

Their form of English anyway.

Well, it's a form that's
damn offensive to the ear.

May I remind you, Lord Thomas,

there are parts in England,
Newcastle comes to mind...

where the local accent
is equally unintelligible

to our ears.

Yes, yes, quite right.

You make a fine point, madam.

The world would make a lot more sense

if everybody spoke like Londoners.

If ye wish to hear Londoners speak,

perhaps ye should have stayed in London.

- My Lord, he says...
- No need, Lieutenant.

I understood him
perfectly well that time.

I would be more than
happy to oblige, sir,

if only you behaved like
the loyal British subjects

you're supposed to be.

That way my troops and I could return

to more civilized environments.

I must say though, I quite enjoy

being a man in the field.

If only my servants moved
as quickly as my soldiers.

If I stay here long enough,
I could become a laird.

Laird Thomas.

What do you think, all?

Only then I supposed I'd have to wear

one of those woolen skirts.

Oh, I 'm told it's a grave
insult to ask a clansman

- what he wears underneath that thing...
- It's called a kilt, sir.

I know perfectly well what
it's called, Lieutenant.

So tell me,

from one laird to another...

Are ye purposely trying
to embarrass the lass,

or are ye just an arrogant wee smout?

Good christ, man. Do you
know to whom you speak?

You watch your words,
sir, or I 'll have you.

Well, you pull that needle,
and we'll see who pricks who.

Dougal, Lieutenant, enough.

You're both behaving like children.

Yes, yes, quite right. Quite right.

The lady's sense of propriety
puts us all to shame.

The question of the kilt
will remain an enigma.

My word, Madam.

If I were brave enough,
I would commission you

a colonel in one of my regiments.

You do know how to order men about.

Aye, she does that.

Well, it's been a delight meeting you,

but I am afraid the
venison is losing its heat.

I would ask you to join
us, but as you can see,

no room.

Beastly sorry.

You can keep your scraps.

They're still serving good
Scottish ale in the tap room.

I'll be downstairs.

How are we ever going to make peace

with such an ill-mannered people?

I must say, Mrs. Beauchamp,

you've had the most
mesmerizing adventure.

Yes, indeed, but
having been brought here

and having met all of
you charming gentlemen,

I do hope that my adventure is now over.

Oh, yes.

I would've thought you've
had quite enough of Scotland.

In truth, I found the
countryside most beautiful,

my stay not altogether unpleasant,

but my greatest wish now is
to be reunited with my family.

Yes, yes.

France.

Lieutenant Foster, I imagine
there'd be no difficulty

in escorting Mrs.
Beauchamp to Inverness,

where she may book passage

to wherever it pleases her to go.

No difficulty at all, sir.

I would be forever grateful.

It's a trifle, madam.

You have my word on it.

Well, in that case,

I will have a little bit more wine.

Mm, I believe we'll all join you.

Inverness, and from
there only a brief journey

would take me to the
stones at Craigh na Dun

and a chance to return to my own time.

To homeward journeys.

May they be uneventful.

My lord, are you aware
that at this very moment...

Captain Randall, are
we under attack, sir?

We are not.

You're putting the claret at risk.

I suggest you step
outside and rid yourself

of half a league's worth of dust.

By all means, we must
protect the claret.

Am I mistaken, or do
you two know each other?

For a moment there, the
lady did look familiar,

but...

I can see now I was wrong.

I had the same exact experience.

How unusual.

Well, then, Captain
Randall, allow me to present

Mistress Claire
Beauchamp of Oxfordshire.

Captain Jonathan Randall.

Captain.

Charmed.

I trust I am sufficiently presentable.

Yes, yes, someone pour a glass

- for the good captain.
- No.

Now, if you'll be so good
as to explain your purpose

for barging in here?

My Lord, at this very instant,

Dougal Mackenzie, war chief
of Clan Mackenzie is downstairs

quaffing ale.

That is not news, Captain.

It was he who brought
Mrs. Beauchamp to us.

Was it indeed?

Do you propose to admonish me, sir?

Perhaps you're of the
opinion that a general

must explain himself to a captain.

No, I meant no offense, sir.

Now you mention it,

an English lady and
a Scottish war chief,

I can't for the life of
me piece that one together.

Oh, it's a fascinating tale, Captain.

It's full of robbery and murder.

It's unfortunate you missed it.

I know.

What if Captain Randall
accompanies you to Inverness?

That way you may regale him
with tales of your adventure.

It's sure to make the time fly by.

Mrs. Beauchamp amongst the savages.

Well, I doubt Mrs.
Beauchamp would choose

such a provocative title.

The lady claims she was well treated

by her Scottish friends.

Hmm.

I wasn't aware that the English

had any Scottish friends.

Hmm?

I'm sure Private McGreavey
would agree with me,

if he were able.

Do not mention that sad subject.

You'll give Mrs. Beauchamp the vapors.

I do not easily swoon.

Please, Captain, tell me.

Two weeks ago, Private McGreavey

made the mistake of
wandering away from patrol.

We found him two days
later sitting, legs crossed,

tied to a tree, his
arms folded in his lap.

That sounds more like a
prank than a punishment.

He was cradling his severed head, madam.

It was a sad day for Private McGreavey

when he got stationed to Scotland.

For all of us.

Is that all you have to say?

On the road here yesterday,

we came across two highlanders

hanging from crosses.

The men in my party ascribed
the actions to english soldiers.

If so, then it would be the
result of english justice.

A rough justice, it would seem.

Undoubtedly traitors to a man.

Yeah, so said the letters
carved into their chests,

but I doubt they were
given a trial to prove it.

Well, you can be sure that
Private McGreavey 's sentence

was administered
without benefit of trial.

And so both sides have
committed depredations

they should both be ashamed of.

Dog me, that's a woman's view
for you if ever I heard one.

That is why I make it a point
never to discuss politics

with a lady.

I was under the impression
we were discussing morality,

not politics.

And I'm forced to question
whether the lady's morality

is any clearer than her politics.

What are you implying, Sir?

All this time living with savages,

I have to wonder if
Dougal Mackenzie shared

more than just bread and
shelter with the lady.

Perhaps he has also shared his bed.

How dare you?

That is a scurrilous charge.

You cross a line, Sir.

If I am wrong, I apologize.

But what other reason
would the lady have

to choose these barbarians
over her own people?

These aggressors who
wantonly shed English blood?

The Scots just want the
same freedoms we enjoy.

Freedoms we take for granted.

They are not the
aggressors, Captain, we are.

It is their land, and
we are occupying it.

I believe it's the king's land.

I must say, madam, I
find your sympathies

extraordinarily puzzling.

Hear, hear.

I can assure you, Lord Thomas,

my loyalties lie with the king.

No doubt your time here has muddied

your proper English thinking.

My lord, I think the lady

has lived among the savages too long.

She must be returned to
the bosom of her family

as soon as possible.

I could leave for Inverness
today, if you will allow it.

Sir, three enlisted
men have been fired upon

by persons unknown just outside of town.

Are these scots rascals that bold

to attack an armed British camp?

My lord, I know you've
only recently arrived,

but small ambushes are an
almost weekly occurrence.

Yes, thank you, Captain.
I have read the reports.

Any casualties?

One dead. Two wounded.

One of the men, Sir, he's in a bad way.

He's downstairs. We've
sent for the surgeon,

but no one is sure of his whereabouts.

I'll go.

I've told you. I have
medical experience.

I was right beside him.

Don't you see it could've been me?

Claire.

- Are ye all right, lassie?
- I'm fine.

When I saw that bastard
Randall go upstairs...

Jamie and the others weren't
responsible for this attack,

- were they?
- No.

I'll shed no tears over redcoat blood,

but my men would never
undertake such an action

without my consent.

It's Randall ye need to worry about.

The army will be looking
for someone to blame.

Without proof, they can't hold me.

Still, I'd feel better if
you made yourself scarce.

I'm fine.

Stand aside, and move this bench.

All right, soldier.

When the Germans surrendered,
I thought I 'd participated

in my last amputation,
but it seemed as though

I was condemned to dream
about yet more young men

maimed for life on the battlefield.

This arm's going to have to come off.

You can have the loan of
my short sword if it helps.

Sharpened it myself yesterday.

It'll have to do,

and I'm going to need to use
something as a tourniquet.

You can tie his arm with this.

It's my wife's.

Gave it to me for good luck, she did.

All right.

Someone get me some boiling water

and some clean cloth.

- I'm the surgeon here.
- Hurry!

Do you have medical experience?

Enough to know that
you can't save this arm.

You're not going to
faint when I begin to saw?

I've stayed awake through worse.

Grab his knees.

You, take this shoulder.

Opium. Down his throat, if you can.

Bite, Private.

Bite until your teeth crack.

Steady now.

Nurse beauchamp.

Are you back from saving lives?

Where's Lord Thomas?

He's off hunting rebels,

not that he'll find any.

Having seen him on a horse,

he'll be lucky to stay in the saddle.

Please try not to speak, Captain.

My barbering skills aren't
up to shaving a moving target.

I haven't been pampered like
this since I was called up.

I should hope not.

I'm the only one allowed to pamper you,

and don't you forget it.

You'll get no argument from me.

I don't want you holding
a blade to my throat.

A 200-year-old razor has
certainly kept its edge.

Well, it's not just the blade.

It's the beautiful hand that wields it.

Come here.

Are you sure you wouldn't
rather bring this with you?

What, and risk losing it? God, no.

No, it's been in my
family for far too long.

No, I shall just have to suffer
through a few more rough shaves

till I see you again.

Can you keep it safe for me?

And who is going to keep me safe?

Well, that is my job.

I-I'm sorry, Captain.

On my life, it was an accident.

On your life?

Sit down.

A soldier needs a steady hand, hmm?

Otherwise he will never
hit the target he aims at.

You control your nerves.

Your nerves do not control you.

My, my,

aren't we the beardless boy?

Mm.

Take my things back to my lodgings,

and come back and see to it
that we are not disturbed.

Yes, Captain.

I wish to see Lieutenant Foster.

I'm afraid Foster is gone with
Lord Thomas and the others.

Then I suppose someone
else will have to take me

to Inverness?

When the time comes.

Lord Thomas said I
would be leaving today.

And I wouldn't touch
the general's claret.

Perhaps you haven't noticed,

but Lord Thomas is an utter arse.

He agreed to your
leaving before he heard

you make some of your
more troubling statements.

Statements that...

well, even Lord Thomas is
bright enough to realize

puts your loyalty in a
very questionable light.

Madam...

ever since our first encounter,

I have been in a state
of extreme discomfort.

I am not sure what you mean, Sir,

nor am I sure I want to.

Allow me to put your fears to rest.

I wish to apologize.

That awful day in the woods...

Who are you?

The mere memory of it leaves me shamed.

Your apology pleases
me more than you know.

I'd hate to think a king's officer

would behave in such
an ungentlemanly manner.

I am not a casual person with women.

I look forward to the opportunity

to reveal my true nature to you,

and I can only hope that honesty

will be met with honesty.

My honesty will match yours, Captain.

Please.

Let us begin with you
telling me who you are

and why you're here in Scotland.

I originally come from Oxfordshire.

No.

We pledged honesty, Madam.

There are no Beauchamp's in
Oxfordshire that I know of.

Well, I would hardly
consider you an expert,

your family hailing from Sussex.

May I ask just how you know that?

Your accent.

It's clearly Sussex.

Neither my tutors nor my parents

would be much obliged to hear

that my speech so clearly

reflects my birthplace, Madam,

they having gone to
considerable trouble and expense

to remedy it.

Parlez-vous Francais?

You don't have the look of a woman

who would rouge her nipples.

Well, for that, at least, I
suppose I should thank you.

What was your maiden
name, Mrs. Beauchamp?

Captain, I admit I made
some ill-advised comments

in support of my Scottish acquaintances,

my imprudence should not
be mistaken for treason,

nor should it prevent me
from continuing on my journey.

I have been delayed
far too long already.

Madam, you do not help your case

by adopting this dismissive attitude.

I have no case to help.

Now, I make no claims
on you, the Garrison,

or on the Mackenzies for that matter.

My only desire is to
resume my journey in peace,

and I see no reason why
you should object to it.

Don't you?

Well, allow me to enlighten you,

and perhaps my objections
will become clearer.

I found you wandering the countryside

dressed in nothing
but your undergarments.

When I try to question
you, I am struck down

and rendered unconscious by
a villain I later discover

is a member of a band
of Scottish rebels,

a band led by your companion here today,

Dougal Mackenzie.

These facts paint you either
as an empty-headed trollop,

or as an agent in league
with the king's enemies.

Are those my only two choices?

If there is another, Madam,

I advise you not to keep it to yourself.

Captain, you...

force me to reveal things that
no woman should say out loud.

It was an affair of the heart.

I met him in England.

An officer of infantry.

He swore to me that I held
his affections like no other.

So when he was stationed
in Scotland, I...

I followed him.

Please. Carry on.

It was then I...

discovered he was a most licentious man,

a rake and whoremonger.

It was not love he felt
for me. It was lust.

When I refused him, he attacked me.

I fled, dressed only in my shift.

I can only hope you prove yourself

the gentleman you claim to be

and not pry any further.

What is the man's name?

With all due respect, Captain,

I do not wish to lower myself
to this gentleman's level.

By revealing his name as well
as his indiscretions to you,

I risk ruining both his career

and his reputation.

Please.

I would be interested in your opinion.

You captured my likeness.

You think so?

I'm glad.

I shall call it,

Beautiful lies.

You wish to get to Inverness?

Very well.

I know that Dougal
Mackenzie is raising funds

for the Jacobite cause.

I merely lack the necessary proof

to take him into custody.

You will furnish me with that proof.

Jacobite cause?

- I have no idea what...
- Do not stand there

and pretend that you have
lived among the Mackenzies

these past months and not heard them

voice support for that failure James,

and his witless offspring Charles.

Mr. Mackenzie would
have to be witless indeed

to discuss treason in
front of an English woman.

Unless that English woman
was sympathetic to his cause.

I am not that woman.

Then prove it.

Have you seen any of
your Scottish companions

attempting to raise
funds for the rebellion?

No, I have not.

You've not heard a single Mackenzie

speak Jacobite treason?

How many times must I say it?

I would not believe you

if you told me that night
is dark and day is bright.

Captain, am I under arrest?

Because if not,

then I refuse to submit
further to this interrogation.

I will await Lord Thomas' return,

no matter how long it takes.

I place my fate in his hands.

If you wish to put me
under guard in the meantime,

then I shall not protest.

You will not leave this
room until I am satisfied

that you are as innocent
as you claim to be.

Either you can cooperate
with me, or I shall be forced

to use methods less pleasant than talk.

I've heard about your methods, Captain.

What would you do, lay
my back open to the bone?

I understand flogging is
something of a sport for you.

Oh, on the contrary.

I take it very seriously.

I'm sure you'll be pleased to learn that

you've earned quite the
reputation at Castle Leoch.

Yes, I 'm told that you once
administered a hundred lashes

upon a hundred lashes
to a poor highlander boy.

A poor highlander boy?

If I take your meaning,

that boy is a wanted thief and murderer.

I was told he'd merely
stolen a loaf of bread.

Did Dougal Mackenzie tell you that?

Hmm?

He was there.

He witnessed it.

The thief had been flogged
before for trying to escape.

100 lashes administered by the corporal,

a man not without skill in
using the cat-o'-nine-tails,

but the thief didn't break.

No, he took his punishment
without making a single sound.

It set a bad example for
the assembled onlookers,

both soldier and civilians,
and I could not allow

that insult to the
crown to pass unchecked,

so yes.

I decided that a further
100 lashes were in order.

Hurry up.

This time, I would
administer them myself.

I prefer to work on a blank canvas.

It, uh...

it makes one more able
to mark the progress

of the damage inflicted.

You're shaking.

Are you scared?

I'm just afraid I 'll freeze
stiff afore ye're done talking.

I will break you.

Have you ever seen a
man scourged, Madam?

It's never pretty,

and the thought of the whip coming down

across that pitiful, raw flesh

made my stomach flutter
and my legs shake.

I did...

I had intended

to pace myself.

A hundred lashes is
fatiguing to the arm.

Again, the boy refused to cry out.

I wonder,

did he hope to stir me to pity?

If he did, he was sadly mistaken.

I was...

I was hurting him.

I could feel it.

The sheer judder of the
whip coursing up my arm,

exploding into my heart...

but the boy would not beg for mercy.

The boy would not beg.

Look at me. Look at me!

Is that enough? Is that enough?

And then something changed.

One of my men fainted like a woman,

and the crowd barked in laughter.

Silence!

I think it was in that
moment that I determined

to bleed him to the bone.

The world suddenly narrowed
down to my arm and his back,

the whip connecting us both.

The laughter changed,

first to gasps,

then to sobs.

The crowd, they had to look away.

They were horrified.

Blind fools.

I think all they could
see was the horror.

I-I could see the beauty.

I saw the truth.

That boy and I...

we were creating a masterpiece.

An exquisite,

bloody masterpiece.

It was the most beautiful
thing I've ever seen.

The truth carries a weight
that no lie can counterfeit.

I promised that I would
reveal myself to you, and...

I have.

Yes.

I believe you have.

You think me a monster, no doubt.

It could be so.

The fact that you care what I think

gives me some hope yet for your soul.

I know one thing, Madam.

I am not the man I once was.

I came to Scotland to fulfill
a soldier's responsibility,

to serve my king, and
protect my country.

Instead...

I find myself the watchman of a squalid,

ignorant people

prone to the basest
superstition and violence.

The darkness has grown within me.

A hatred

for the very world itself.

I find myself doing such things,

reddish work,

until I no longer recognize
the man I have become.

You're not the first soldier
to be changed by combat.

The fact that you can admit to it is

yet another hopeful sign.

Of what?

You say that buried within

is a decent man,

a man that can still
choose right over wrong.

I believe that part of you lives still.

It would be pretty to think so.

You cannot undo the things you've done,

but it is not too late
to win back your humanity.

You can choose to be
the man you wish to be.

Do you think it possible
that one day I might gaze

upon my own reflection and
not be filled with loathing?

I believe,

a man with your insight
and self-knowledge

can do whatever he wants.

The rehabilitation
of Black Jack Randall.

You could make a fortune
betting against that.

Perhaps I should begin by
having you escorted to Inverness.

I've made you happy.

Yes, you have.

An odd sensation.

A beginning, perhaps.

I agree.

Corporal Hawkins.

Mrs. Beauchamp and I...

require your assistance.

Captain Randall, you
have my deepest gra...

I dwell in darkness, Madam,

and darkness is where I belong.

I need no sympathy from you,
and you will get none from me.

One way or the other, I will
get the truth out of you.

Corporal...

Have you ever kicked a woman?

Sir?

It's... it's very freeing.

Come.

Kick her.

I said kick her, milksop.

Kick her!

You see?

They're so soft.

Again.

I don't recall requesting your presence.

Up ye come, lassie.

Ye're done here.

Hold!

I dinna come here to fight.

You tell yer wee laddies
here to step aside

before I lose my temper.

You have no right to that woman,

not while she's being
questioned by a British officer.

She is a guest of Clan Mackenzie.

She is an english subject first.

And she was brought here for fear

she was being held
prisoner by my brother.

Now she will have assured
ye that that is not the case,

and by right, must be
returned to me for protection.

I'm afraid further
questions have arisen.

Oh, well...

ye won't be asking
them on Mackenzie land.

Not unless you want to start
a war here, on this day.

I suppose we're done for the day.

Be sure to deliver her to Fort William

by sundown tomorrow.

If she is not present
at the appointed time,

you will be accused of harboring
a fugitive from English law,

and you'll be hunted down and punished,

even unto death.

War chief or not.

Let them pass.

Come on, lass.

I look forward to our next meeting,

Mrs. Beauchamp.

My body still reeling from mistreatment,

the last thing I felt
like was a headlong gallop

through the rough
terrain of the highlands.

I feared I was close to fainting

when Dougal finally called for a halt.

Are we meeting the others here?

No, they're back at the campsite,

but there's fresh water nearby,

and ye look like ye could use it.

Water? Where?

Down.

Bit of a climb for a drink, is it not?

Oh, aye.

There's a stink to it,

but it will wet your
thrapple sure enough.

Are ye a spy for the
english or the french?

How many times must I
answer that same question?

I promise, this is the last
time I'll ever ask it of ye.

I am not a spy.

I am plain Claire
Beauchamp and nothing more.

There.

Can we finally be done with it?

Well?

Aye.

Done it is.

Did you plan on using that on me?

I would no have liked it.

Ye're a handsome woman,

but if you proved false,

I would have had no choice.

But I ken now ye're telling the truth.

May I ask what convinced you?

St. Ninian's spring.

Some folk call it the liar's spring.

Smells like the fumes of hell itself.

If you drink from that
and you prove untrue,

it'll burn your gizzard out.

A magic spring?

Well, you're a healer.

Surely ye believe in
the powers of magic.

Well, I doubt Captain Randall
would be so easily convinced.

Aye.

Well, ye don't need to see him again.

Not if ye do what I tell ye.

Don't you have to bring me
to Fort William tomorrow?

An English officer cannot
compel a Scottish person,

unless there is proof a
crime has been committed,

and even so, cannot
force a Scottish subject

from clan lands without permission

from the laird concerned.

You've been talking to Ned Gowan.

Aye, I have.

I thought it might come to this.

I can only legally refuse
to hand ye back to Randall

if I change ye from an englishwoman

to a scot.

Into a scot?

Mm, and the only way I can do that

is for you to marry one.

No. Absolutely not.

I cannot do that!

Would ye rather go to an English prison?

So I 'm to marry you?

Well, I must admit

the idea of grinding
your corn does tickle me,

but it's not myself I'd be
nominating for the position.

Then who?

Dougal wants us to be married.

I know.

And you're willing?

Well, ye've mended my
wounds more than once.

I feel I owe ye something for all that.

Besides, what kind of friend would I be

if I left ye to that
mad bastard Randall?

But surely a young man like yourself...

well, isn't there someone
else that you're interested in?

Oh, am I promised?

No.

No, I'm not much of
a prospect for a wife.

I mean, I 've nothing more
than a soldier's pay to live on.

Then there's the minor difficulty

of a price on my head.

No father wants his
daughter married to a man

that might be arrested
and hanged any time.

Did ye think of that?

So that's it then.

As far as you're concerned, we can just

start the honeymoon tomorrow?

Aye.

Whatever suits ye.

Well, doesn't it bother you that...

that I 'm not a virgin?

Well, uh, no.

So long as it doesna
bother you that I am.

I reckon one of us should
ken what they're doing.