Midnight Honor

Inverness. Cumberland had been given the authority to do whatever he deemed necessary to suppress the rebellious nature of the Highlands, and in his determination to be thorough, he gave little thought to the innocence or guilt of the general population. With so many prisoners to deal with, a lottery was organized wherein every twentieth man was marked to stand trial. The rest, if they could afford to buy their freedom, were released on the condition they leave Scotland and never return; those who had no money were loaded on transport ships and sent to the colonies as indentured servants.
    Four members of the peerage were arrested and slated for execution by the ax. One of them was the Earl of Kilmarnock, whose wife had entertained General Hawley the evening before Falkirk. It was rumored, in the whispers that circulated around the Tolbooth at night, that it was Murray of Broughton, the prince's former quartermaster, who turned king's evidence on the earl in exchange for a pardon. It was also whispered that Lady Kilmarnock escaped the patrol that had been sent to bring her to Inverness by infusing their wine with enough opium to render them senseless.
    Anne would have liked a little of that wine now. She was hungry and cold; she knew Cumberland would come again soon, offering her food, a clean bed, a hot bath. She was not sure how much longer she would be able to refuse, or how much longer he would tolerate her insolence, but there were indications the stalemate had to end soon. The king had given him a free hand to dealwith the rebels in any way he saw fit, but after six weeks of unchecked slaughter and bloodshed, the atrocities were beginning to have the opposite effect, turning fear to anger, creating fierce zealots out of men who might have gone quietly home and nursed their wounds. Stories in the London papers had began to openly refer to the duke as “Butcher Billy,” and there were protests in Parliament from lords demanding a more civilized means of resolving the Scottish problem.
    Cumberland's free hand would soon be reined in. Lady Drummuir had already been released to more comfortable quarters, though she was still under house arrest. Sixteen other ladies—wives of suspected Jacobites—who were held for a time in churches or inns had been sent back to their families after the wives of several parliamentarians had interceded on their behalf. Anne knew she had not been forgotten in her fetid little cell; she had only to survive another day, she told herself, and perhaps one more after that.…
    They came when she was asleep. The rusted hinges on her cell door screamed in protest despite the stealth with which the door was opened, giving entry to two shadowy figures who hauled Anne to her feet before she came fully awake. It took several moments for the fuzz to clear from her mind. By then, her hands had been jerked forward and bound with a leather thong, a filthy length of canvas stuffed in her mouth, and a burlap sack pulled over her head.
    She made a sound in her throat and tried to kick out at her assailants, but something hard, blunt, and decisive struck her across the temple, causing her to lose all but the frailest thread of consciousness.
    She was dimly aware of being picked up and tossed over a broad shoulder, then of being carried out into the hallway and through a door cut so low her assailant had to duck to clear the lintel. She felt cold air on her legs and heard the snuffling sound of several horses. A cloak or blanket of some sort was wrapped around her shoulders, then she was manhandled up onto a saddle and her hands bound to the pommel.
    “Hold on.” Dazed, she felt the sharp bite of leather slap across her fingers. “I said hold on to the saddle, bitch, or we'll tie you across it like a sack of offal.”
    “Smells like offal already,” said another voice, sniffing loudly. “How far do we have to take her? It's a bloody cold night an' the fog's already drippin' down my neck.”
    “We have our orders. We follow them. Grab hold of that lead and look smart. We'd all look like ruddy fools if she managed to get away now.”
    “I say we just take her to the river. Can't see, other than the time it will save us, that it matters whether we kill her down by the bridge or out in the woods.”
    Anne blinked and tried to focus her eyes, but aside from the odd twinkle of lamplight that managed to pass through the weave of the sacking, she was as good as blind.
    So. It was happening. The