Outlander (2014–…): Season 2, Episode 9 - Je Suis Prest - full transcript

Previously...

We will unite the clans,

and I will lead you all to glory.

Charles has landed in Scotland,

and he's gathering his army.

What will ye do, brother?

Whatever I can to save Lallybroch,

Scotland, and everything
that we hold dear.

I need you to bring
the men to Kingussie.

As ye say.

I'll meet you there in two weeks.



Colum, is Dougal with ye?

'Twas best for the clan

that my brother remain
at his own estate.

To save our clans, our country,

we must band together.

Let's just go to Prince Charles

with the men from Lallybroch.

I canna go to the prince a failure.

It's our duty to stand up
for our country, Father.

I will fight, even if you will not.

Don't sit there gaping at me.
Go see to your men!

I don't understand.

What will you say about your son
fighting for the Jacobites?

He's his own man,



and that will protect me
if the British should win.

♪ 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 ♪

We left Beaufort
Castle 100 strong

and traveled towards
Crieff to join forces

with Murtagh and the Lallybroch Frasers.

But our numbers dwindled along the way.

Many who resented being
ordered by Lord Lovat

from their families and
farms deserted our ranks.

We'd sent Young Simon to
persuade them to return

with the promise of land
when the war was over.

It gave them something to fight for,

to die for.

If it went according to plan,
all would meet up in Perth

to join the prince's army.

Murtagh.

Pardon me if I forego the wee jig

that I had planned in
honor of your arrival.

I woulda been gey pleased to
foot it out five days ago.

Aye, aye.

It took us longer than foreseen
coming through Corrieyairack.

Made me long for the
days of raiding cattle.

I didna think ye could talk

that old bastard out of a
loaf a bread, let alone men.

Not much to look at, are they?

Apparently Lovat's kept his
best men back at Beauly.

So you two have your
work cut out for you.

We need to keep a watch.

30-odd tried to desert near Kingussie.

Wee Simon's gone to bring
them back into the fold.

Oh, the Younger's with us?

Aye, but no with his father's blessing.

Lord Lovat remains neutral.

Ah, that's the weasel I ken well.

- Wee drink to warm you up.
- Thank you.

Aye.

Milady! Milord!

- Ah.
- Ah.

- Oh.
- Fergus, laddie...

ye look fit.

Murtagh's been looking
after you well, then?

No, no, no, no, no, no.
It's been horrible.

He forced me to mend his socks
and to fetch his meals.

Hey, I'm just tryna educate
the lad on the finer points

on traveling in the Highlands.

All right, children.

I'll have a word with the ladies...

try and get them to make as many
bannocks as possible today.

Aye.

Mistress Claire...

I washed my mouth out with whiskey,

in preparation for a
big buss from you, eh?

Angus! Oh!

Good to see some things haven't changed.

- Mwah.
- Aw.

It's been ower long, Claire.

Oh. Whoo!

Indeed it has, Rupert.

Hey.

Well, where's Willie?

Something happened?

- Tell them.
- The lad...

He went and got himself married...

To an Irish lass.

Sailed off to America
with the bride's family.

We'll no mention that traitorous
bastard's name again.

You know, marriage could
do you all some good.

Have ye no welcome for
yer beloved uncle?

Dougal! Ah.

Aye.

- You look well, lad...
- Aye.

Despite the misfortunes ye've suffered.

Never felt more fit.

Ah, and the Lady Broch Tuarach...

a vision of true loveliness.

Well, it wouldn't be Scotland
without you, Dougal.

Colum change his mind, then?

Is the Clan MacKenzie to join the cause?

Colum's mind is his own.
It's no concern of mine.

We are here to pledge our hearts

and swords to the glorious cause.

What, just the three of you?

Well, ya didna question the
lads' strength in numbers

when they stormed Wentworth Prison,

in the very teeth of over 200 redcoats.

- It was 400, actually.
- More likely 500.

Oh, lad...

when I heard you joined
the Jacobite cause,

I was so proud.

It was as if my own son was
taking his first steps as a man.

Now, I know that you and I have
had our differences in the past,

but I have been waiting for the day

when we would fight
together on the same side.

It is our time.

For glory...

for Scotland.

Then I welcome yer heart.

- Aye.
- And yer sword.

All of you... Sorely needed.

You can aid me in
training the other men.

Aye, it should be a
simple enough matter.

They've showed their
worth just by joining.

Their hearts are larger and
stronger than ten redcoats.

Maybe so, but they're no ready
for combat as they stand.

Have plenty of time to
teach that on the march.

Well, they dinna march.

They walk, they stroll,
they caper about,

but they dinna march.

They'll need to learn

before they join the prince's army.

They're still just cotters,

tacksmen, smiths.

Most havena even held a weapon,
let alone used one in a fight.

Now, this is good ground to train upon.

So...

I've decided to stay here for a time.

Yer mind's set, then?

Aye.

'Tis.

Good to see you looking so braw, Dougal.

All right.

We'll make a fine group
of Highland soldiers.

No time to waste.

James Fraser taught me
these drills himself.

And believe me,

I am going to teach them to you,

and you are going to learn them.

Now, form lines...

two.

When you hear this...

Two lines,

one directly next to the other.

Here.

Put yer toes there. Line.

Get in line. Get in line!

Kincaid, move yer arse.

Do ye think the enemy's
gonna fouter away

waiting for ye to gather?

And when do we get proper weapons, huh?

First, you learn where to stand.

Then you'll learn how to move.

And if you can manage the
particulars of that,

we'll put a sword in your hand
and teach ye to kill redcoats.

But until then, form up!

What are you laughing at, bastard?

When you hear this...

You will face left.

Face left.

Yer own left! What is
the matter with you?

Have ye got shite in your ears?

Attention!

Pay attention to me.

File left.

Quick, march.

Ya, wee Fergus, get the ball!

Okay, Fergus, show us what you got.

- Oh! Oh, oh!
- Oh...

Kincaid, ye swing like a big lass

and not a very bonnie one.

Coming for you, corporal.

All right.

- Give that a swing.
- There you go.

Right, yeah, yeah. You just want
to knock it out of the park.

- All right?
- Okay.

Mine!

Fergus. Fergus.

No need to get riled, Mistress Claire.

We were just playing.

I asked you to get water
for Milord, did I not?

- Yes, but I was just...
- I don't care.

Just come with me.

Keep your distance.

Remember, these are well-trained,

disciplined soldiers.

Come here, come here.

Scottish broadsword.

Ye aim for the shoulders

if ye're trying to take
his head off, like that.

Even every highly trained
soldier has a weakness.

Halt!

You there, I said "halt"!

Come left!

When ye're coming short distance,

ye see that bastard's
throat, and ye stab it.

Right, control.

Throat, down scrape, aye.

And then you smash 'em in the face!

You ought to practice till it's in ye.

The men are
coming along nicely.

We should push on, join the
prince with due haste.

Christ.

We must make a show of our allegiance.

I don't know who ye're surveying,

but if we meet the British now,

you can count on one of two things.

We get butchered in the field
or have our necks stretched.

Jamie.

Ye have the prince's ear, no?

I ken Charles Stuart well enough.

Aye, good,

because more clans are
joining our cause every day.

And their leaders are
jockeying for position

within his inner council.

We have more pressing concerns

than worrying about securing a
seat at the prince's table.

I'll no send these cotters into battle

until they're well-trained
and disciplined.

Christ.

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.

It's not exactly Delmonico steak, is it?

Ma'am?

Well, that's what we think you Yanks

have for chow every day... Giant steaks,

baked potatoes drowned in butter,

tomatoes the size of cricket balls,

and vats and vats of
chocolate ice cream.

Don't I wish.

We just get K-rations,
pretending to be real food.

We call it "shit on a shingle."

Sorry, ma'am.

That's quite all right.

I'm Claire Randall, by the way.

Corporal Caleb Grant,
that's Private Max Lucas.

Nice to meet you.

Airborne?

Separated from your unit?

Yes, ma'am, ever since D-day.

There's quite a lot
of that going around.

Where are you both from?

Texarkana, Arkansas.

Yonkers, New York.

How about you?

I'm from...

well, all over, really.

I'm not sure where
home is, to be honest.

Anywhere but here, that's for sure.

Ma'am, can I ask you a question?

What kind of food is this trying to be?

Well, that, Private Lucas,

is trying to be black pudding,

though you would probably
call it sausage.

Then what do you call
what we call pudding?

Pudding.

The British and Americans...

Two people separated
by a common language.

George Bernard Shaw.

That's right.

My mama's Irish.

She said he's one of the great
Irish writers of all time.

Pop says he's a Communist.

You all right, lass?

Ye've been very quiet
these past few days.

I'm fine.

There's just so much
to do, to prepare for.

Aye.

"Je suis prest"...

"I am ready."

I'm sorry.

Sorry?

Sorry for bringing you here.

I want you to know,

whatever happens, we're
gonna get through this.

I'll make sure you're safe.

I'm fine, Jamie...

really.

About face.

Together!

By the left, quick!

March!

Halt!

Halt!

About face!

Together, you clots, together!

By the left!

Quick!

March!

Halt! Halt!

Now!

Foolishness...

and games...

That's what ye're thinking.

No reason to learn to strut

and ponce about like the redcoats.

We're Scotsmen.

We're brave, and we're strong,

and we have God on our side,

so why should we waste
time with all this shite?

Aye.

I was like-minded.

Then I went to France,

and I became a soldier.

I saw what a modern,
well-trained army can do.

Oh, it's a pretty sight at first...

Seeing them all marching together

in their neat rows and columns,

music playing, banners waving.

So pretty, you want to smile.

I laughed, too, the first time.

Then they fired the first volley.

First, you see the flash
of metal in the Sun.

Together, as one,

an entire line of men

raise their muskets, aim, and let loose.

The musket balls come
tearing across the field

like a sheet of metal rain,

cutting down men left and
right without mercy.

Sound of gunfire...

Rolling thunder across the hills.

By the time the last of it fades,

the second volley is already on its way.

I realized

it takes more than courage
to beat an army like that.

It takes discipline.

It takes a well-trained soldier...

an army of soldiers.

Now, if we have the discipline

to stand together, to march together,

and to fight together, then by God,

I ken we will win together.

Stand.

- Stand!
- Halt!

Come on!

Hey! That's how you
beat the redcoats, eh?

With a Highland charge!

Ye take them by surprise,

and ye put terror in their hearts.

Get back in line!

Back in line now.

Was only five of us.

Aye, imagine 1,000 of us screaming,

descending on the pretty redcoats

lined up in a row.

They'll run like chickens.

We would need surprise
for the charge to work.

I doubt we'll be that lucky.

Dismissed, all of you.

Dismissed!

Move it! Bloody sheep.

A word with ye, Uncle.

Listen, lad,

I ken ye're trying to do
what ye think is best,

but I was teaching men to fight

while you were still sucking
your mother's tit, God rest her.

So I think I know a wee bit
more about this than you do.

No.

No, you don't.

I ken what these men will face,

and I know how to prepare them for it.

You don't.

And these are my men, my clan.

They'll answer to me and no one else.

What exactly is it ye're
trying to say, lad?

I've been tolerant with ye before now

because I respect you...

because you're my uncle.

But if you choose to
fight with Clan Fraser,

then you'll respect my
orders without objection.

If you can't abide to these terms,

take yer men and be on yer way.

A-as you say.

I've been giving some thought to...

Jamie's situation.

He's struggling...

needs help.

But you know Jamie.

He's too proud to ask.

Well, if you spoke to him, mm,

made him realize that I can help,

if only he'd let me...

Why would I do that?

Because of our agreement...

The one we made in the
cave at Glen Rowan Cross.

I'll wager ye never told
him about that, did ye?

About my generous offer to ye?

To look after ye as yer husband?

And yer promise to me...

to be my bride if he died?

My husband and I share everything.

He knows about your offer...

and he knows why I was forced
to make the decision I did.

And he took no issue with it?

None.

Well, he, uh... He is
a better man than I.

Truer words have never been spoken.

I can see that ye still bear a grudge.

Let's get one thing
clear, Dougal MacKenzie.

If I ever thought of you,
then I might hold a grudge

for all the things that
you've done to me.

But I don't.

Why?

Because of your affliction...

Your inability to be selfless

because you suffer from narcissism.

If you don't know what that
is, then let me tell you.

The term comes from Greek mythology.

Narcissus fell in love

with his own reflection
in a pool of water

and died rather than pull
himself away to eat.

Your ego

and your self-gratification
drive your desires.

You want King James
restored to the throne,

but not for Scotland.

For your own selfishness.

So, please...

stop trying to convince
everyone of your patriotism.

It's tedious.

I'm not sure that you'll grasp
the meaning of this either,

but I'll try my damnedest.

Fuck yourself.

All right, then.

Oh, Claire.

Perhaps you're right about me.

I do.

I do love my reflection.

But make no mistake, lass.

I love Scotland more.

And I would give everything,
everything I have

or ever will have, including my life,

to see a Stuart back on the throne.

He's no your friend, okay? Fight him!

Halt!

- Excellent. To the ground.
- Up, protect your head here.

Come on, mean it!

Good grip, down to the ground.

I am starting to feel proud.

That's it!

Good.

Fire!

Good.

Reload!

They canna seem to grasp
how to load properly.

Aye, and a British trooper

can get off three shots a minute.

We must teach 'em to be better.

Go again.

Have ye noticed Claire's
been out of sorts lately?

One day she seems fine, in good spirits,

and the next there's
barely any life in her.

I canna figure it out.

I can see she's not been herself.

Claire doesn't usually
beat around the bush.

She speaks her mind,

whether you want to hear it or not.

I asked.

She claims she's fine.

It's gonna take a bit more than
asking to pry it out of her.

Come on, you two.

Take aim! Fire!

Got something growing
between yer toes there.

Nay, just everyday filth.

This is unacceptable.

You could easily get trench foot.

If you intend to use
these feet to march,

then you need to take
better care of them.

Well, I'll bear it.

- Bear it?
- Mm-hmm.

Trench foot can lead to gangrene,

which can lead to amputation.

I've seen it happen.

Are you completely idiotic?

Is that what you want?

It's a rhetorical question.

Take off your other boot.

Take it off.

Whoa. It's just...

Come on, it's just...

Come on!

So, in summation, make
sure to dry your boots.

Don't go to sleep in your socks.

If your feet begin to swell,

then coat them in foot powder

and let them air-dry.

Move your legs, wiggle your toes,

anything to get the blood flowing.

Are you listening?

Did you hear what I fucking said?

Aye, I heard ye.

So she says to me,

"Oh, ye'll be expecting
me to open my legs."

I says, "No, I'll just kick you
on the pot like everybody else."

Hey. Hey. Easy, lads.

It's just a pack of new recruits.

How do ten men just walk into the camp

without so much as a
challenge from the sentries?

I just smiled and waved,
and they let me pass.

Who was on watch?

- Ross and Kincaid.
- Bring them to me.

Post new guards in their place.

Jamie, did ye no hear?

I brought volunteers for our cause.

- Volunteers?
- Aye.

Here of yer own free will, are ye?

Prepared to bleed, are ye?

Prepared to leave your families

and your homes for months, maybe years?

This isn't a war where you risk

no more than your lives in battle.

No, no, this is treason.

If we fail,

then all those that support the Stuarts

are likely to end up on a scaffold.

They're true Scots.

Every man prepared to fight
and die for their true king.

I much prefer they fight
and live for their king.

I'm James Alexander
Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser.

I command this army.

If you do not wish to be
here, then it is my order

that you leave now and
return to your homes.

None will think less of you

and no harm will follow.

The rest of you are dismissed.

Oh, the rest of us, he says.

I thought you agreed to follow orders.

Mm, when did ye order me
not to recruit new men?

We must conscript as we travel.

We need every able-bodied
man in Scotland

if we're to win this war.

I'll not reave another clan's men.

And I'll not force a man to
risk dying for something

he doesna believe in.

You and I can make them believe.

No...

we cannot.

Half of Lovat's men already deserted

at the first opportunity.

A man that fights for his own beliefs

is worth ten that are forced
to fight for someone else's.

What fine words.

You know,

all I hear is talk

and talk and more talk

about fighting and, uh,
war and being a soldier,

but I don't see any action.

It's because they're
not ready for action.

They need more training.

Oh, and a braw job of
ye're doing of that, eh?

I just led ten armed men into yer camp.

True. Ye did. And it
will no happen again.

- And what's to prevent it?
- You are.

You and your men are now
in charge of sentry duty

for the entire encampment.

And that is an order.

Done.

Get in there!

Go on, then! Get in there!

You put the entire
encampment in jeopardy.

But we need more men.

And you'll be punished

for your carelessness in the morning.

Until then, ye're relieved of your duty

and under arrest.

Post a guard over them for the night.

We canna abide carelessness.

Ross and Kincaid were
neglect in their duties,

allowing ten strangers
into the camp last night.

For that, they'll receive
six lashes apiece.

Murtagh.

Place the rod back in the pipe.

Good, wide stance.

In the crick of your shoulder.

That's it. That's good.

Wait for my command!

Make sure you check your range.

- Take a deep breath.
- You'll be a killing wall.

- Relax.
- Again!

- One!
- Fire!

Reload!

Appreciate you letting
us hitch a ride, ma'am.

I just hope you find
the rest of your unit.

The food at our field hospital

makes that chow hall
look like a banquet.

Oh, Lord! Help me!

Oh, oh, please!

Corporal?

Shh.

Help me!

- Where's Private Lucas?
- Help me!

Other side of the road somewhere.

We just can't leave him there.

I know.

But they'll see us as soon
as we try to cross the road.

I'll go. I'm a woman. They
won't be able to stop me.

You won't get 5 yards.

Oh, God! Help me!

I can see the Krauts on the left.

I'll try to circle around to the right,

see if I can find a way across.

Stay put.

I'll be back for you.

Okay.

Oh, please...

Please.

Please...

Mama.

- Shut up.
- Mama.

Ma'am, ma'am, are you okay?

Can you hear me?

Ma'am.

Come on.

What the hell are you doing
down here all alone?

Are you okay?

Please, Mama!

Ma'am.

Claire.

There's nothing you could have done.

I should have tried to get him.

If you had, you would be dead,

just like the soldier, the corporal.

I know that...

because I told myself the same thing

right after it happened.

And I just...

closed the door on that night,

walked away...

and I haven't looked back
ever since, until now.

Now I look at Ross and Kincaid

and all the others being
turned into soldiers,

being trained, putting up a brave front.

All I can hear is Max Lucas...

crying out for his mother
in the dead of night.

And for two years...

I've tried to stop this war from coming.

Now that it's here,

I'm not sure I'm ready
to go to war again.

You don't have to.

You fought your war.

We'll fight this one without you.

I'll have Ross and Fergus
take you home to Lallybroch.

- No.
- Claire.

I can't do that either.

Listen to me.

If I... if I go back,

then it will just be like
lying in that ditch again,

helpless and powerless to move,

like a dragonfly in amber...

except this time it will be worse,

because I'll know

that the people out there dying
alone are people I know...

People I love.

I can't do that, Jamie.

I won't lie in that ditch again.

I can't be helpless

and alone ever again.

Do you hear me?

I hear ye.

I promise...

whatever happens, you'll
never be alone again.

I'm going to hold you
to that, James Fraser.

You have my word...

Claire Fraser.

Ugh!

Ugh!

He's just a bairn.

I'm 16!

16 or 60,

he just made a very credible attempt

at cutting my throat.

Who are ye, laddie?

Hmm?

And why are ye creeping around at night?

Addressed to a British officer.

He's a spy.

I'm no spy! I saw the
light of your fires,

and when I came to investigate,

I recognized you as Red Jamie...

The unprincipled and traitorous rebel.

Not a spy, but conveying
with a British officer.

Who do you march with?

Huh?

Oh, is your arm broken?

I thought I heard something snap.

I'm quite prepared to die.

Is that so?

Well...

I'm afraid I'm not
prepared to kill ye...

just yet.

Who do ye march with?

I want their number...

And direction of travel.

There's nothing you can do
that will make me talk.

Scottish barbarian.

Leave him alone, you... you sadist.

I resisted your advances earlier,

but if you let the boy go free,

then I will surrender
myself to you, you pig.

Pig?

You may be indifferent
to your own welfare,

but perhaps ye have some concern
for this English lady's honor.

- Let her go!
- Oh!

I could, or...

I could ravish her, huh?

Right before yer eyes, huh?

And then...

then give her to my men

to do with what they will, huh?

Oh!

Sassenach.

All right!

Release the lady, and I will
tell you whatever you wish.

Good.

Hold her...

Until the boy answers my questions.

My name is William Grey,

second son of Viscount Melton.

And what of the troops you're with?

200 infantry,

traveling to Dunbar to
join General Cope's army.

And I'll warn you... We
have heavy armament.

16 carriage-mounted cannon,
mortars and muskets,

and a company of 30 cavalry.

Much obliged for the warning.

And where are these men
ye speak of, presently?

Encamped some 3 miles to the west.

Take this man in the direction

he says the camp lies.

If the information he
gave us proves true,

tie him to a tree one
mile from the camp.

His friends will find
him there tomorrow.

If what he told us is not true...

Then cut his throat.

Gladly.

I give you your life.

I hope you use it well.

I owe you my life.

I should greatly prefer not to,

but since you have
forced the gift upon me,

I must regard it as a debt of honor.

I should hope to discharge
that debt in the future,

and once it is discharged,
I will kill you.

Then I must hope, sir...

that we do not meet again.

A Grey does not forget
an obligation, sir.

Move.

Who was on watch?

My men.

Canna let the guilty go unpunished.

Dougal's men let the boy
get through the lines.

We canna continue with
this carelessness...

Not from anyone.

That includes me.

What are ye doing, lad?

It was our unshielded fires

that drew the lad to us.

Jamie.

Murtagh, if you'll oblige me.

Six lashes for our unshielded fires...

a dozen more for my carelessness.

After that, we'll take care
of those British troops

Master Grey so kindly warned us about.

So what are ye plannin'?

We're to slip into the British camp,

see what trouble we can make.

A braw idea.

Not you.

You'll remain here...

Sentry duty.

We still have a camp to protect.

I stay behind,

like some wretched...

Like some wretched soldier

who's been given an
order by his commander.

Aye.

That's exactly what you'll do.

Aye.

Then that's what I'll do.

Good luck to ye.

Mm.

- Awake, are ye?
- I am now.

How's your back?

Ahh, nae bother.

What are these?

- Trophies of war.
- Christ, Jamie.

I didna have time to wash.

Where have you been?

Commando raid.

Commando? Is that the right word?

Yes.

- You went to the British camp.
- Aye.

- Did you go by yourself?
- No.

I couldn't leave my men out
of all the fun, could I?

We had a very profitable night...

Cotter pins from the cannon carriages.

We couldn't take the cannon,

but they'll no go far with no wheels.

Couldn't they fashion another cotter pin

from something else?

Aye, they could.

But the hell a lot of good it'll do them

if they canna find
wheels to put them in.

Our success tonight

was because of your
selflessness, Claire.

It led the lad to confess
his camp's location.

It'll save lives.

Because a hell of a lot

of good 16 gallopers
will do General Cope

stuck out in the woods.

You should get dressed.

That's not what I expected you to say.

As much as I want you, Sassenach,

best be off.

The British camp will be waking soon.

Dougal MacKenzie...

Do the honor.

Ride ahead...

and announce our presence
to His Royal Highness,

Prince Charles Edward Stuart.

As you say.

No turning back now, Sassenach.

I would say not.

"Je suis prest."