It was a group of some twenty or thirty men, mostly wearing leather trews and tartan-clad, but in a variety of colors and patterns. All, without exception, were well armed. Each horse bore at least one musket strapped to the saddle, and there was an abundance of pistols, dirks, and swords on view, plus whatever further armament might be concealed in the capacious saddlebags of the four packhorses. Six of the men also led extra mounts, unburdened and saddleless.
Despite their warlike accoutrements, the men seemed relaxed; they were chatting and laughing in small groups as they rode, though here and there a head raised, watchful of the surroundings. I fought back the urge to duck as one man's gaze passed over the spot where we lay hidden; it seemed as though that searching look must surely discover some random movement or the gleam of the sun off Jamie's hair.
Glancing up at this thought, I discovered that it had occurred to him as well; he had pulled a fold of his plaid up over his head and shoulders, so that the dull hunting pattern made him effectively part of the shrubbery. As the last of the men wound down into the innyard, Jamie dropped the plaid and motioned back toward the path up the hill.
"Do you know who they are?" I panted, as I followed him up into the heather.
"Oh, aye." Jamie took the steep path like a mountain goat, with no loss of breath or composure. Glancing back, he noticed my labored progress and stopped, reaching down a hand to help me.
"It's the Watch," he said, nodding back in the direction of the inn. "We're safe enough, but I thought we'd as soon be a bit further away."
I had heard of the famous Black Watch, that informal police force that kept order in the Highlands, and heard also that there were other Watches, each patrolling its own area, collecting "subscriptions" from clients for the safeguarding of cattle and property. Clients in arrears might well wake one morning to find their livestock vanished in the night, and none to tell where they had gone—certainly not the men of the Watch. I was seized by a sudden irrational terror.
"They're not looking for you, are they?"
Startled, he looked back as though expecting to see men scrambling up the hill in pursuit, but there was no one, and he looked back at me with a relieved smile and put an arm about my waist to help me along.
"Nay, I doubt it. Ten pound sterling is not enough to make me worth the hunting by a pack like that. And if they kent I was at the inn, they wouldna have come as they did, traipsing up to the door all of a piece." He shook his head decisively. "No, were they hunting anyone, they'd send men to guard the back and the windows before coming in the front door. They've but stopped there for refreshment, likely."
We continued to climb, past the spot where the rude path petered out in clumps of gorse and heather. We were among foothills here, and the granite rocks rose higher than Jamie's head, reminding me uncomfortably of the standing stones of Craigh na Dun.
We emerged then, onto the top of a small dun, and the hills sloped away in a breathtaking fall of rocks and green on all sides. Most places in the Highlands gave me a feeling of being surrounded by trees or rocks or mountains, but here we were exposed to the fresh drafts of the wind and the rays of the sun, which had come out as though in celebration of our unorthodox marriage.
I experienced a heady sense of freedom at being out from under Dougal's influence and the claustrophobic company of so many men. I was tempted to urge Jamie to run away, and to take me with him, but common sense prevailed. We had neither of us any money nor any food beyond the bit of lunch that he carried in his sporran. We would certainly be pursued if we did not return to the inn by sundown. And while Jamie could plainly climb rocks all day without breaking a sweat or getting out of breath, I was in no such training. Noticing my red face, he led me to a rock and sat beside me, contentedly gazing out over the hills while he waited for me to regain my breath. We were certainly safe here.
Thinking of the Watch, I laid a hand impulsively on Jamie's arm.
"I'm awfully glad you're not worth very much," I said.
He regarded me for a moment, rubbing his nose, which was beginning to redden.
"Well, I might take that several ways, Sassenach, but under the circumstances," he said, "thank you."
"I should thank you," I said, "for marrying me. I must say that I'd rather be here than in Fort William."
"I thank ye for the compliment, lady," he said, with a slight bow. "So would I. And while we're busy thanking each other," he added, "I should thank you for marrying me, as well."