Midnight Honor

to the bone from wrist to elbow. There was no sign of Aluinn MacKail or the giant Struan MacSorley, and though Anneasked everyone who might know, no one had seen her cousins or her grandfather.
    Lord George Murray sat with his head between his bandaged hands, obviously fighting and refighting the battle in his mind. There had been so many errors, so many grievous errors that day, most of them wrought by the man they had forsaken everything to follow.
    The prince had stopped at Moy but was gone before Anne arrived, so she did not hear his impassioned speech to the clansmen vowing they would rally to fight another day. The only rallying she witnessed was when wagons arrived from some of the neighboring farms bearing baskets of bread, extra blankets, and sheets for making bandages.
    She had not troubled herself to change out of her velvets, though she had torn away the various tiers of lace to make bandages along the way. Thus, when another two-wheeled cart rolled to a halt outside the front of the Hall, she stood like a splash of azure blue in the doorway and watched as the Highlanders crowded around to help carry the goods away and distribute them. The sky was darkening, it being past five o'clock, and a runner had just come from Inverness with the news that Cumberland had entered the city like a grand conqueror, the citizens greeting him with ringing bells. His first stop had been the Tolbooth, the combined courthouse and gaol at the bottom of Bridge Street, where he immediately released all the prisoners the Jacobites had under lock and key. Word had also arrived that the duke, who had a fondness for sleeping in the same beds his cousin had slept in, had made his way to Drummuir House and demanded the dowager's hospitality.
    All these things were spinning through Anne's mind, so she did not realize at first that the burden the Highlanders were unloading from the wagon was a man. An old, frail, broken shell of a man.
    “Granda',” she whispered.
    Fearchar Farquharson shrugged off the assistance of the two Highlanders who lifted him out of the cart. He took one stiff step after another, shuffling his way slowly to the bottom step before he stopped and looked up at her with tear-filled eyes. “I can say now that I've lived tae see mair than I everwanted tae see. All those brave lads,” he whispered. “All those brave lads.”
    Anne did not think her heart could break any more, but she was wrong.
    “The bairns are gone,” he said. “All three o' them. I looked f'ae Big John an' Gillies, but I couldna find them.” His eyes held a hopeful gleam for the moment it took for Anne to shake her head. “Ahh, weel, better they died in battle, rather than see … what I saw.”
    “Come inside, Granda'. There's hot broth and blankets—”
    “What need dae I have o' hot broth an' blankets when there are a thousan' men lyin' on Culloden field, stripped naked, left in the cold, beggin' f'ae even a small sip o' water. What's wrong wi' the rest o' these men,” he said loudly, turning and waving his walking stick in the direction of the park. “Why are they no' goin' back tae help their kin! Why are they sittin' here wrapped in blankets an' drinkin' hot broth when their faithers an' brithers lie dyin' f'ae lack o' a sip o' water!”
    “Do you think we just left without trying?” Lord George asked, coming quietly up behind them. “Each time I sent men back, they were slaughtered for their efforts. I could have kept sending men until we were all dead, I suppose, but what would that have gained? Believe me, I would gladly give my life if I thought we had the smallest chance of bringing even one man out alive. Cumberland has refused an appeal to parley. He demands nothing less than the prince's formal surrender in exchange for the right to treat our wounded and bury our dead. Loathe me if you will, blame me if you will, but do not disparage the honor of these brave men. Know that they would return to Culloden on the instant if I asked it of them, but that, in all good conscience, I will not do. Lady Anne, may I have a word in private?”
    She nodded and entrusted her grandfather into the care of two clansmen. When she and the general were alone, she inquired if she might change his bloody bandages while they spoke, but he shook her concerns away.
    “You know, of course, the army will come to Loch Moy.”
    “I would be surprised if they did not.”
    “It is to be hoped that when the heat of blood lust passes, as it surely