And thus a mighty deed was done by Jenny's valiant hand,
Black Prelacy and Popery she drove from Scottish land;
King Charles he was a shuffling knave, priest Laud a meddling fool,
But Jenny was a woman wise, who beat them with a stool!
The column of soldiers advanced down High Street from Edinburgh castle. They parted the market-day crowd like a trout swimming upstream. Young boys ran up and down the column of soldiers, reveling in the novelty of having a troop of King Charles' men marching through their market.
Ahead of the boys flew the rumors. By the time the squad of soldiers and their officer reached the corner of St. Giles Street and High Street, where the greengrocers and fishmongers were selling their wares in the shadow of St. Giles Cathedral, the rumors had raced ahead of them like wildfire.
Jenny Geddes, the greengrocer in the second stand from the end, had one eye on the soldiers and the other on the vegetables in her cart. When there was a distraction in the street, someone, usually one of the street urchins, would dart up and try to run off with a carrot or two. Not today. She had been doing this for over twenty years, taking the stand over from her father when he died. And if her two daughters were lucky, maybe one of them could do the same.
The officer bellowed out his halt order, and the soldiers stopped in front of the cathedral.
Jenny took a moment and sucked on her pipe, put her hand on her hip and glared at the soldiers. Ever since Charles, she thought, that dirty papist-leaning king with a Catholic wife, arrested a whole lot of young lords over talk of a rebellion, things have been unsettled.
But there was nothing that required this sort of armed display down the middle of High Street. She shook her head at the nonsense, and went back to keeping one eye on her stand and one eye on the troops in the street. Besides, that mess was over weeks ago; they were past this sort of thing. Bad for business, it is.
The troops stopped at the other end of the square, and she could hear the murmur of the crowd around them. She grabbed her little three-legged stool and stood on it to get a better view, still keeping one eye on the cart. She thought she heard her name and raised her hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun. She shifted her pipe to the other side of her mouth. It fit well on both sides, as she had teeth missing on the right and left. She squinted against the sunlight with her not-so-perfect thirty-five-year-old eyes, and listened again.
"They be a looking fer Jenny?" someone said. "Jenny Geddes?"
"What on earth has she done?" said another.
An old man spit on the ground. "These are t'king's men. Why would they be looking fer Jenny Geddes? That makes not a wit o' sense."
Heads and eyes began to swivel toward Jenny. She stepped off the stool as inconspicuously as possible, and knocked the fire out of her pipe on the heel of her shoe. The pipe went into her pocket. She could see the soldiers advancing through the crowd to her left and to her right. They were surrounding her.
She had a decision to make. Stay or flee. In all of her years in Edinburgh, she had never seen anyone who was arrested in this manner live to tell the tale. She thought of her daughters, her small plots of land outside the city gates, and made her decision. It was a simple and practical decision. There would be certain torture or death in the hands of the king's men. She had done nothing wrong—at least nothing wrong enough to send more than the sheriff after her. Whatever the reason that they were coming for her—guilty, innocent, mistaken identity—it was a sure thing that no good would come of it.
Flee.
She'd had a talent for evading pursuit since she was a girl. The twists and turns and dead ends of the medieval streets of Edinburgh were a playground to her as a child. She knew she could evade them, but then what?
Jenny scooped up the few coins she had made this morning, moved back from the oncoming soldiers, and headed for the church courtyard directly behind her. There was a small passage that led to Candlemaker's way, and then to Cowpath Street. She took Cowpath Street into town every morning at dawn. It was one of the few streets on the south side of the town that had its own gate, one of only a handful into the walled city. She'd make for that gate.
Troops were hollering for her to stop, and she sprinted to a narrow opening in the corner of the courtyard. She wasn't quite as skinny as she had been as a girl, but she still fit. Her tattered clothing caught on the bricks, but she kept moving.
The opening became a long passageway between two buildings, with just enough room to slip sideways between them. The bright sunlight abruptly changed to shadow as she shuffled sideways into the musty passageway. It smelled of urine. She tried not to think about what was happening to her shoes.
She glanced behind her and could see the soldiers gathering at the opening. She kept shuffling as fast as she could.
"Where does this come out?" growled the officer. "You four stay here, you two follow her in the passage, the rest of you come with me."
She glanced back again, and saw two men begin to squeeze into the passage. She knew her pursuers would have to work their way back through the dense market-day crowd still clustered in the church courtyard. They would then have to backtrack up the hill to another street that cut through, and then race back. By then, she should be long gone.
"If I wasn't so afraid, this would almost be funny," she muttered when she popped out of the passageway a moment later. Her pair of pursuers had gotten stuck.
"Cowpath Road is where I need t'be," she thought. "If I can get there, I'll go home and get the bairns, and then I'll. . . ." The thought trailed off as she continued to walk quickly through the maze of the city. Then what? She had no savings, no money, and no immediate family. Since her husband had died five years ago, she had been just holding on. There was some help from the church, but charity always irritated her. "One thing at a time, Jenny me girl, one thing at a time."
The terrain turned dramatically downhill as she continued to slip between buildings, and she knew she was close to the road. Just a few more yards and she would be in view of the gate. She slowed to a walk and caught her breath. Soldiers were nowhere in sight, far behind and limited to the streets.
"Attract no attention to yerself, lass" she thought, "just walk around this corner and be calm. Say g'day just like always."
She peered out from around the corner, looking straight at Cowgate. She took a moment and looked carefully. Everything seemed normal. She waited, and watched. She was about to step around the corner when a young woman carrying a basket approached the gate to leave the city. As the girl reached the open gate, soldiers appeared from outside the gate. With their swords drawn.
"Well, now. That's a bit odd." Jenny kept watching. The soldiers questioned the girl, inspecting her basket carefully. They then started leering, and grabbed at her. She complained and pulled away. McNulty, the regular gatekeeper and toll collector, stepped in and spoke to the men. McNulty was over fifty years old, and in no shape to take on two soldiers. But his commanding demeanor, roughly honed by three decades at Cowgate, convinced the men to let the girl through the gate without further molestation. He continued to talk to them after she had gone on her way. He then began to talk very animatedly to the men, who responded in kind. The argument continued. McNulty was one of the few honest gatekeepers in the city, and he had known Jenny all of her life. He was the gatekeeper when her father had his stand.
Jenny leaned back against the wall, out of sight of the gate and tried to think. Were they searching for her at the gate? She had to find out before she tried to go through. She frantically tried to think of a way to find out what was going on; how could she get home without being discovered?
"Dear Lord Jesus, please give me a way t'git home wi' me bairns," she whispered softly with her hands folded. "Take me if ye needs, but leave them be, please." She would need to act quickly; the other soldiers would be coming soon.
She heard footsteps approach from the direction of the gate. She eased further away from the street and pressed against the building. She watched McNulty pass on his way up the street. He was muttering to himself, still upset from his encounter with the soldiers.
Jenny took a sharp breath as he walked past her, and made another quick decision. "Oy. McNulty. It's me, Jenny Geddes. What be happening? Are they looking for me?"
McNulty stopped suddenly, and did not respond. He casually eased toward the corner where Jenny was hiding, and leaned his back to the wall facing the street. He did not look at her. He looked up and down the street, and then spoke quietly over his shoulder. "Jenny Geddes, wa' in Gods name did ye do, lass? They got the king's men out after ye. I ain't seen the likes of this fer many a year." He paused and pulled his cap down lower on his face. "Aye, they be looking fer ye. They got orders to kill ye. W'a di' ye do, lass?"
"Nothing. I swear it on my mother's grave, McNulty. Ye knows me, knows I go t'kirk always. I don't cheat folks. I am a god-fearing woman and I have a business. I didn't do nothing." She paused to think. "I don't like the papists, ye know that. But who does?"
"Then why are they looking fer ye, lass?"
Finally the frustration welled up in her, as the adrenaline melted away. She began to cry. "I swear that I hae done nothing! I just want to get back to me bairns and hug 'em and make sure they are well." She sniffed, and regained control. No time to cry. "I hae got to get home, McNulty. Wa' cannae do?"
"They will be a waiting fer ye at home, Jenny. You got to hide. All the gates be manned like this one, with English soldiers. You got to hide."
"But me bairns . . ." The tears welled up again.
"Have you heard of the 'Committees of Correspondence'?"
"Aye." She sniffed. "The ones with the speeches and the place on Little's Close" She sniffed again.
"Go there. Ask for the German. His name is Otto. He will be able to help ye. I will send word through him aboot the bairns. Go and stay outta sight. If they catch you, they will kill you. That much I do know from these lads at me gate. Ye may want to hide until it's dark; there will be just a sliver of moon tonight. I will find out about the bairns." He glanced toward the gate. "Get away from here. The bloody English lads at the gate are starting to notice me here. So git."
"There will be more soldiers coming soon. They will be looking fer me."
"Lord, girl. What could they want with you? Now git on w'ye, before they get suspicious."
"God bless ye, McNulty."
"Git, woman!"
Otto Artmann sat in the back room of the tiny CoC building in near perfect darkness and listened. He could hear the rats moving in the dark alley behind. Most of Edinburgh had gone home for the night. Soldiers had stopped patrolling the streets looking for Jenny.
Carefully, so as not to make any noise, he shifted positions in his chair. He had been sitting for two hours, waiting, and his leg was falling asleep. He had caught a bad pike wound in his calf while fighting in the Germanies four years ago. After his capture by the Americans, he was released into a new world. A world he was determined to make better. He had spent a lot of his life making the world worse. He pushed the old thoughts out of his head, and focused on listening again. He was rewarded with a new sound. Silence. The rats had stopped moving in the alley. Silently, as he rose from the chair, he slid his dagger out of the sheath in his boot, and moved to the back door. It was so quiet that he could hear someone breathing and the movement of fabric from behind the door.
"Otto? Are ye there? Otto?" The voice was low, quiet, tense.
He paused before answering. "Aye. Who is this? Who sent you?"
"McNulty. I'm Jenny. Jenny Geddes."
"I'm going to open the door. Jenny, please step forward and I'll close it behind you."
"Aye."
Still in darkness, he opened the door and allowed the person to walk in. "Step in and stop."
The dim light that came in from the alley gave him a silhouette, nothing more, but he thought she fit the description.
She whispered, "Are you Otto? You sound German."
"I'm Otto," he said and closed the door. "Wait and I'll uncover a candle."
He looked at her when he uncovered the candle. Her face was plain, he decided. Worn, tired. She had a large frame for a Scot, tall, sturdy. Her nose had been broken once or twice. She was dirty from her ordeal and her clothing was soiled and dank. When she smiled back at him, he could see that she was missing teeth. He had lost a few teeth over the years himself, so who was he to judge?
"I'm a bit of boggin, I am." She looked away. "Thank ye. I'm no' used to charity, an I don't know if I kin repay ye the kindness." She straightened, as if realizing what she said, and looked him in the face. "I'm no' a girl who would be repaying ye wit, well, ye knows." She looked down at her body and smoothed her dirty dress. "I don't do that, nere will. Ye ken that?"
"I understand, Jenny. I don't expect anything in return, at least not now. And when I do, it will not be that sort of thing. Do you want something to drink or eat?"
"Aye. Both please."
Otto handed her a mug of beer, turned and began to prepare her food. "What do you know of the Committees, Jenny?"
"No' a lot. Ye just do braw for people. Guilds nae like ye. Ye have something to with the strange people from Germany. S'posed to be from the future. That's all."
"The Americans."
"Aye, thems the ones." She paused and looked up at him. "What de ye hear 'bout me bairns? Are they safe? Do ye know? I ha' been worried to death. I dunno what I'd do if something happened—"
"They are safe with some people who are with the Committee. The soldiers came to your home looking for you, and the girls hid. We found them later in the afternoon when they went to the Dunnes. They are safe."
He watched as she bowed her head, and prayed a quiet thanks. She looked up at him. "The Dunnes be good people. When can I see them?"
"We need to get you safe first. Do you have any idea why they are trying to hurt you?"
"No. I have been thinking on that all night; I cannae come up with an answer. I don't know what I have done. Ye think they have me mixed with another Jenny of some sort?"
"We don't know. But we are trying to find out. We think the order may have come from London. The timing is right. You were wise to run away when you did. Damn that King Charles."
"I not like words like that if it's not in the kirk." She grinned mischievously. "But I did run, didn't I?" She smiled again. Otto liked the way her face lit up when it smiled, even with the missing teeth.
"Your food is ready. It's not warm, I don't want to risk a cooking fire and draw attention to us. This room has no windows, and we fixed it so there is no danger of someone seeing the light from the candle."
"I see." She bowed her head and offered a short prayer over the food, and then she wolfed the small meal down.
"We don't understand what is happening, Jenny. But something tells me that you're part of it. Or will be in the future. We'll have to find out which part you play. Or will play. You can stay upstairs here, and out of sight till tomorrow. Then we will move you to a safe house, and possibly out of the city in a few days when things settle down a little."
"And me bairns?"
"After we move you, we will get you together with your children."
She nodded and smiled. As he watched, he saw the energy drain out of her. The tension of not knowing about her children must have been a huge strain. And now that she knows they are safe, she probably wants to sleep. He picked up the candle.
"Take this, Jenny. There's a loft above this room; the ladder is over there. There is some clean bedding; we will get you some clean clothes tomorrow. And don't worry, I will be down here all night."
He watched her slowly climb the ladder to the loft. When the candle went out, he sat back down in his chair and listened for the rats to return outside.
"What do you mean, they failed to capture her?" John Lauder was not a happy man, and his high-pitched voice squeaked higher than usual. He coughed to bring it under control. "I wanted her head, dammit."
Lieutenant William Hignall shifted his weight from foot to foot. He was clearly uncomfortable. Lauder liked him to be uncomfortable. "Sir, the troop and I did exactly as ye requested. We thought we had her trapped in the churchyard during the market, but she escaped down a passageway we couldn't follow."
"Is she still in the city?"
"We don't know for sure." Lauder shot his best glare at the man, and watched him with satisfaction as he carefully considered the rest of his answer. "But . . . we believe she is. Her children have also disappeared. She is hiding somewhere—"
"You have a keen grasp of the obvious for one in your position, Lieutenant," snapped Lauder.
Hignall inhaled, exhaled, and tried to relax. "Sir, she is probably in one of the tenements somewhere in town. She has no family to speak of, although she is well thought of with the lower class of people in the city. She sits at church as a placeholder on the Sabbath for some of the more devout families. I am certain we will find her."
Lauder stood up. "That is what I am paying you and your men for, Lieutenant. To find her. If she is hiding, then let it be known that there is a reward." He crossed his arms and looked coldy at the Lieutenant. "This reward is an investment for me, Hignall. A substantial investment, in my future. Go now and do your duty as I have requested. In the kings name, of course."
Lauder watched as the Lieutenant retreated through the door of his study. He smiled. John Lauder knew something that not many men could say. He knew the future. He repeated it to himself. The phrase seemed so unnatural.
He knew what had happened to him in that other future, and he was going to improve it. In his old future, he had achieved one of the goals of his life. Peerage. Nobility.
He was a merchant. Wildly successful, and rich. Richer than most of the so-called nobility. He huffed at the irony. He was a commoner, who could buy and sell many of them.
In that other future, he achieved only the lowest ranks of nobility. He smiled coldly as he looked at the papers in front of him. The conclusion to be drawn from them was obvious, even if it was not written as such. During the war with Scotland, which now might not be fought, he had supported King Charles. That much was clear. He was rewarded with lands taken from those who opposed the king. Which increased his vast fortune even further. He was given the opportunity to buy a baronetcy, the lowest of the ranks of the noble class.
This time, it would be far more than a baronet of Nova Scotia. Far more. Lord Lauder had a very nice ring to it, he decided. And taking the head of Jenny Geddes was one step along that road.
The king would be pleased.
He rubbed his hands together, placed them on his skinny hips, and called to his servants for lunch.
Jenny was not a happy person, nor was her seven-year-old daughter who stood in front of her. The girl, Dolina, was on the verge of tears, and was holding her butt where it had just been swatted.
"I told ye you couldn't go outside. It's not safe for us here. I been worried sick about ye. Where ye been, girl? Tell me now."
Dolina's lip quivered. "Just playing, Mum."
"And where is your sis, Elspeth? She's supposed t'be watching ye."
"Elspeth's playing too, Mum."
"Where is she, then?"
"In the alley, Mum. Couple houses over."
"Sit down there, and stay. Do you understand me, lassie? So help me, I'll tan your hide if ye do this again."
"Yes, Mum." The lower lip continued to quiver.
Jenny went to the front door, and opened it a crack. Otto had been explicit in his instructions. Do not go outside, not for anything. Stay away from the windows. She had fallen asleep for just a moment and Elspeth, who was ten and should have known better, slipped away. Jenny was going to tan her hide when she got her back. She peered out the slightly open door, and looked up and down the street. There was nobody in sight. The street was a small one, no more than a dead-end alleyway, with three-story town houses on either side of the narrow way. The homes were run down and gritty looking, and the street was filthy with garbage, both human and otherwise. The strong odor of it struck her nose. She crept out and quietly closed the door behind her.
Jenny knew that Otto would be back soon, and she wanted to get Elspeth back into the safe house before he returned. Otto had gone to the market to buy something so she could prepare the evening meal. She glanced up and down the deserted street again. Nobody seemed to be out, so she headed down the street toward the end. From there she could see a small gangway between two houses and could hear children's voices from behind the house. She walked quickly and quietly down the alleyway, and stopped before she rounded the corner behind the dwelling. The area was a typical hodge-podge of crumbling and propped-up buildings. Behind two of the buildings, there was a junk-strewn open area. Something was probably there years ago, but she guessed that it had burned down.
She listened at the end of the alleyway, until she could hear Elspeth's voice. She glanced behind her once again, and seeing nobody, she peered around the corner. She could see the girls playing on a trash pile, using sticks for dolls and burned wood for their doll cribs. There were three girls, along with Elspeth, all of then between ten and twelve years old, she figured. She could see no one else in the alley. She stepped out and called quietly to her daughter.
"Elspeth. Elspeth. Oy, girl. Come here."
Elspeth looked up and saw her mother. Jenny could see the emotions flowing across her face. She could tell that the first thought was momentary confusion. The second was the realization of where she was, third the realization that she was in trouble, and the fourth thought, Jenny saw, was her daughter looking for her little sister, who was nowhere in sight. Elspeth turned and looked at her mother with panic in her eyes. Jenny stepped further around the corner and waved to the girl to come to her.
She saw Elspeth glance at her new friends, then back at her mother. Elspeth said goodbye and hustled toward her. As she ran up, she began with the excuses. "Mum, I am sorry, I lost track of Dolina. She can't have gone far, Mum. She was right here a second ago, and when you was sleeping, I thought that it would be all right to go out and play. I heard the girls outside and—"
All of this came out in a rush of apology, fear, anxiety, and the terrible understanding that she had made a big mistake. She braced for a slap. Instead, Jenny shushed her. "It's all right, Elspeth. Be quiet. Now."
Jenny looked around the back alley to see if there was anyone there except for the other children. She saw nobody else. She sighed with relief. She knelt in front of her older daughter, and looked at her face. It was flushed with embarrassment. She whispered to her. "Lassie, did ye tell anyone your name?"
Elspeth looked at her mother with fear. "Umm. Sort of. I told them I was Elspeth, and that I usually live outside the walls, and that we were staying down the street. I didn't see the harm in it, Mum, they are just kids like me." As the girl finished the sentence, her eyes went beyond her mother and focused on someone else. Her eyes then flicked back to her mother, and she swallowed. Jenny tensed at her daughter's reaction. Someone was coming up behind her. She quickly stood up, turned around, and pushed her daughter behind her, facing whoever was coming down the alleyway.
They were two large men, who were dressed as if they were bricklayers, dirty and dusty from a day at work. She tried to control her fear, but her face must have given her away. She watched as they became suspicious, reacting to her fear. The two men looked at each other, and then turned back to her. The older one spoke.
"Who might you be?"
"We are just a visiting, down the street a bit." Jenny smiled at them, hoping to charm the burly bricklayers.
The younger man called to the other girls in the alleyway. "Alice, Mary. Get ye home, and be quick about it. Now!" The girls ran off, looking back at Elspeth as they went by. One of them waved. The younger man took a half-hearted and somewhat playful kick at the last one, and landed it on her rump. Jenny and Elspeth both smiled at him, and he smiled back. The younger one took a step forward, as if to introduce himself. The older man held him back.
"Just a moment, Andrew. I asked this lady a question, and she hasn't answered me yet."
Andrew looked confused, and turned to the older man. "Da, she is just a new lass from down the street. We're not the papist inquisition, fer heaven's sake." He turned to Jenny and smiled. "My name is Andrew, and this is me da, Bill. We live up there on the third floor, and my sister's kids and my daughter live below. Nice to meet you."
Jenny was still holding Elspeth behind her. She smiled and curtsied. "'Tis nice to meet you, Andrew. You too, Bill." She grabbed Elspeth's hand. "I am afraid it's time for us to be heading back home—"
"Not so fast. What did ye say your name was?"
Andrew once again looked at his father in surprise. "Da—"
"Quiet, boy. I am asking a question. Now what did ye say your name was, lass?"
"I don't believe that I have said it, kind sir. Now if you will excuse me, we need to be getting home . . ." Jenny grabbed her daughter by the hand and tried to work her way past the men in the narrow passage. The older man put his arm out against the wall and blocked her way.
"Da—"
"Quiet, boy!" he bellowed. Andrew backed away, and Jenny flinched at the power in his voice. "Your sister said there was two girls playing out here with the kiddies. And now here is the mum. Think, boy. What was every one talking about at the brickyard today?"
Andrew looked perplexed. "I dunno, Da. What was it?"
"If I said, 'reward money,' would that ring a bell?"
"Oy. D'ye think this is her?" Andrew asked.
Jenny couldn't help the stammer. She was never very good at lying. "Oh, I'm not that woman, the one they are after. Oh, no. That be someone else. My name is Mary. Yes. Mary, that's it. Mary Dunne. So we will be getting along now, kind sirs . . ."
Bill looked at Elspeth. He took a small step and loomed over her. "What be your name, now, lassie?" Jenny felt her daughter's hand tighten in hers.
"I . . . It is . . . Els- I mean, Mary. It be Mary, too, sir." Jenny squeezed her hand back.
Bill unexpectedly reached out with his calloused hand and clamped onto Jenny's wrist. She winced in pain. Andrew stepped back again, away from his father. "Da, do you think this is her?"
Bill looked at his son, and then back at Jenny. He held her arm up. "She not be crying out now, is she, boy? I would think if she wanted to be rescued, she would cry out now, don't ye?"
Andrew smiled. "Where are we supposed to take her for the reward? Lord, Da. The reward. We'll be rich!"
"Aye, boy." Bill turned around and started. Otto Artman was calmly standing in the narrow alleyway, arms folded, leaning against the wall.
Otto's voice was quiet and even, and with his German accent, it sounded all the more menacing. "This lady is under the protection of the Committee of Correspondence for Edinburgh. Nobody is going to turn anyone in for reward. Let her be." He smiled. "Please."
Jenny could see Bill and his son exchange a glance, measuring up the man in front of them. He was armed with a sword; they had no weapons. But together they were three times his size.
Bill smiled at Otto. "Four years of work is what it might take me, if I was lucky, to make that reward money. Neither you or your committee scare me." With no more than a flick of his wrist, he pushed Jenny aside and back down the alley. She heard Otto's blade come out of its scabbard.
She yelled. "No! Otto, don't hurt them." The two bricklayers stopped and glanced at her in surprise. When they turned back to Otto, they were looking at his blade held level at their throats. He was faster than they ever thought possible. Jenny, too, blinked at the speed. She knew he was a soldier at one time, that was obvious, but she had no idea. . . .
Otto looked at them grimly. "It is not the policy of the Committee to cut men down like dogs in the street. Someday, maybe, but not now. Not today."
"Otto, they have children and live in this building," Jenny said.
Otto looked at her and smiled faintly. He stepped back very slightly and addressed the father and son. "If you were to collect any reward, you would not live to profit from it." He stepped forward, and pushed his blade closer to their necks, one at a time. "Do you understand what that means?"
Andrew and Bill looked at each other. Andrew quickly shook his head at Bill, and Bill nodded back. They turned to Otto. "Aye, sir."
Otto took a step back. "The CoC takes care of their own, gentlemen. There are more besides me who would make sure there would be no profit in it."
Andrew and Bill nodded again. "Aye, sir."
Otto motioned Jenny to move behind him. He smiled broadly at the two bricklayers, stepped back again, and sheathed his blade. "I invite you to stop by the CoC building. We are just off the Mile, up from St. Giles High Kirk. We can always use help, especially when the help is the size of you two. There is much you could do." His smile went wider, and he bowed slightly.
As Jenny looked back over her shoulder, she saw the two men still standing in the alleyway. She waved at them, and after a moment's hesitation, they waved back. And smiled.
"Otto, ye haven't told me where we are goin?"
"We are almost there, Jenny."
"These new shoes hurt my feet. And I feel like some sort of a fancy bird in these clothes."
"Almost there."
"'Ave you ever tried walking in new shoes the first time? It's murder till they get broke in. There was a man I knew that all he did was walk around in rich people's new shoes so they would be broken in when they wore them for the first time. He was a cousin to the shoemaker over in Harper Lane. I used to think, 'that would be a life, why he's got it made, he does.' But hiking over the cobblestones and the shite in the street in new shoes is not the easiest job in the world."
Otto smiled at her with that strange smile of his. He spoke quietly so nobody in the street could overhear him. "Jenny Geddes, you are the only woman I ever met who would complain about new clothes and shoes."
She leaned toward him to whisper. "I ain't complaining about the clothes and the shoes. Not at all. I'm complaining about having to walk across the whole of Edinburgh city in new shoes. That's all."
When he first gave the shoes and dress to her, she was confused by what she thought was a gift, and an expensive one at that. He explained to her that it was a disguise.
She was still not sure what to make of this taciturn German. Jenny had spent most of her life being practical. Nothing more. Her mind put any other thoughts completely away. "One thing is for certain. Nobody will recognize me in this, even if I was behind me own cart in the market."
"Aye, Jenny. You do clean up rather well."
She laughed and turned to look at her daughters, who were following. They too, had been given "new" used clothes by Otto. Both girls were dressed in something nicer than they had ever hoped to wear in their lives. She looked at the happy expressions on their faces and felt guilty. Guilty that she could never have provided for them in this way. As a greengrocer and a widow, she lived precariously. It was not that much different an existence than most of the city, granted. But as a mother, she had always hoped for something better for her children.
While they continued to walk, she went over the last few days in her mind. Chased by soldiers, finding Otto and the Committee of Correspondence, nearly being caught for the reward money, and the tedium of hiding in the house for several days. And now, here she was, dressed in finery as a disguise, hiking across town to places unknown. She shook her head. Strange times indeed. Her practical mind told her that she shouldn't get used to the finery, because that was going to change. She didn't know when or how. But she knew it was true. She sighed and trudged on.
"Here we are."
She looked up and felt her jaw drop in amazement. "Is this the house where we be going?"
"Yes."
"By the front door, not the back door?"
"Yes."
"Oy. You're sure?"
He mounted the three steps to the heavy oaken front door and knocked. "Quite sure."
There had been no change of neighborhood to get to where the rich people lived. Edinburgh was so crammed together that everyone lived on top of one another. The members of the privy council, judges, lawyers and clerks lived alongside tenements and the shops of candle makers and smiths. The door opened, revealing a large man dressed as a servant. Jenny knew just by looking at the fellow that this was not your typical servant. He looked like he should be on a battlefield, not an Edinburgh townhouse, and a new house at that.
The large servant spoke. "Hello, Otto."
"Thomas. Good to see you again. I believe we have an appointment with Robert and his visitors?"
"Please come in; be seated in the library. I will let them know that you are here. Right this way." He led them down a hall and into a large room. There were more books there than Jenny had ever seen in her life. She was good with figures. She counted at a glance maybe twenty-five bound books, along with another dozen or so unbound ones. She turned to the children. "If either of you touch anything, I will swat your arses all the way back across town. Do ye hear me?"
Elspeth looked as overwhelmed as Jenny felt. She nodded. "Yes, Mum." She nudged her sister who was looking at a cabinet of curiosities standing in the corner. The cabinet had one of the most interesting dolls they had ever seen, with silky blonde hair, and fancy clothes, and funny pointed shoes with a tall thin heel.
"Don't touch a thing," Jenny reminded them. She turned to Otto. "Will you now tell me where we are? And how do you know these people?"
"Jenny, you are impatient sometimes, do you know that?"
"Aye, I can be. And you can be frustrating at times."
"I know these people from Thüringia, in Germany. That's where I met them."
"These don't look like the type of people that the Committees are interested in, Otto." She glanced over at the girls, who were staring into the cabinet. She reminded them in a stage whisper, "All the way across town, that's how far I will be tanning your little hides. No touching! Do ye hear me?"
"Yes, Mum." The girls tore their eyes off the strange doll, and put their hands in front of them.
"That's more like it."
The door opened and in walked a short man with red hair and whiskers. He was smiling through curiously good teeth. Otto recognized him instantly. "Alex! Good to see you. You are looking well."
The two men embraced briefly, and Alex turned his attention to Jenny. "So this is the famous Jenny Geddes, eh?"
Jenny could feel herself blushing. "Umm. Aye, sir, I am Jenny Geddes. I don't know about the famous part. Sir."
The man in front of her got a twinkle in his eye, and she found him instantly likeable. "Ah, but I do. Please sit down."
Otto spoke first. "How is the 'baroness,' Alex?" They laughed together. Jenny felt bewildered by the reference.
"Aye, she is fine. She is putting the baby down to nap, and will be here shortly."
Jenny leaned forward to catch Otto's eye. She raised her eyebrows, and said "A baroness?" very quietly, almost mouthing the words.
Otto smiled at her, and back at Alex. "Suppose you tell Jenny here how your wife was elevated to the Swedish nobility."
"Well, it's a long story, but basically it was due to her valor in combat." Alex smiled. Jenny decided it was an honest smile. She believed he was telling her the truth. She just didn't believe what she was hearing. The surprise must have shown on her face.
"Jenny," Otto said, "you really need to close your mouth. You look like a codfish."
She snapped her mouth shut. And immediately opened it again. "Oy! In b-battle?"
"Aye. My wife, Julie. But she didn't do nearly what you did, all on one Sunday morning."
Jenny got a little defensive. "I am at the kirk every Sunday morning. I get there early and save a place for the Dunnes, usually right in the front. I save them spots, and then I sit down on me stool, and listen to the preacher. So there's nothing I could have done in a battle or anything else on a Sunday morning. And when did I do this thing? Is that why the soldiers are after me? I swear, it never happened, whatever it was. You got the wrong woman."
Otto said, "It is not what you did, but what you will do. Or at least would have done." He looked at Alex. "Our language needs a new tense for this. A 'future that may not happen' tense. It's not past tense, it's not future tense, so perhaps we should call it 'maybe' tense. It would make this so much easier."
Jenny cut him off. "I have no idea what you are talking about. Otto, if this is some kind of joke, then I—"
"Wait a moment, Jenny." Otto paused. "I brought you here because you are so practical, and so hard-headed, there was no way you would believe me if I just told you. So I have to show you."
"Show me what?" This had been a difficult week for Jenny, and she decided she was no longer in mood for games.
Otto looked her in the eyes. "The future that might have happened, but didn't."
"Aye. And I'm the bloody queen of England." She crossed her arms and sat back in the chair, quite unladylike.
Alex jumped in. "What he's telling you is true, Jenny. I have never known Otto to speak aught but the truth. You can depend on that with your life." Jenny thought she saw a look pass between the men, as if recalling a specific incident.
She sighed, exasperated. "All right, what was it I was supposed to have done but didn't and still may or may not do?"
From behind her, a youthful female voice with a very strange accent answered. "You started the English Civil War. It eventually led to the beheading of King Charles."
Jenny found herself standing and looking at the woman who had answered the question. She was dressed in a most outlandish fashion, with a pullover shirt with writing on the front, which Jenny couldn't read, but it was very colorful. It was also stained with what looked like baby spittle. For an instant she thought she was meeting the wet nurse. But this girl was far too small of build for that. Slim in an athletic sort of way, like a circus performer she remembered from her childhood. Her pants, too, were outlandish. For one thing, they were pants, for heaven's sake. Women did not wear pants. Especially pants that showed her female figure to an advantage. Snug, like Jenny had never seen.
But it was the girl's eyes that Jenny noticed. The face was young, a little tired. Pretty in a girlish sort of way. Nice teeth. But the eyes, they were so . . . she grasped for the right word . . . wise? Experienced? They weren't old eyes, but Jenny felt that they had seen far too much in her short life, and she instantly felt her heart go out to the girl.
"Oy. King Charles' head! I did that?"
Alex rose from his chair and went to the girl. His kiss made the cloud go from her eyes, and only the girl was visible again. Jenny marveled while Alex made the introductions.
"Jenny Geddes, may I present to you Mrs. Julie MacKay, Baroness of Sweden, formerly of Grantville, West Virginia, in America, and the absolute best shot in the entire world, without compare. Julie, this is Jenny Geddes. Jenny, Julie—Julie, Jenny."
The two women stared at each other for an awkward moment, then smiled. Julie's eyes landed on Jenny's daughters, and she smiled again. "Who are these fine young ladies?"
"The older one is Elspeth, and the little one is Dolina."
"What pretty names."
"Elspeth was my mother, and my husband was Donald, so we named the little one Dolina after him."
Dolina spoke up. "Is that your doll in the cabinet?"
Julie crouched to her level. "It used to be. But we gave it to Alex's father, Robert, as a present."
"Can I play with it?"
"I don't see why not. That's what it's for." With that, Julie opened the cabinet and gave the girls the doll. At first they were tentative, and then began to examine it closely. They really fixated on the strange shoes Jenny noticed, as she wiggled her sore feet.
Julie leaned over to Jenny conspiratorially. "That ought to keep them occupied for a while." She paused while she looked at the girls. "You have lovely children, Jenny."
"I suppose. They are a bit of all right. Strong and sturdy, they will make fine wives someday. They are old enough to do their chores, and they do them well. Elspeth is learning some letters from the Dunnes; they have a fine house up the way from us and our cottage." Jenny paused while she thought of her cottage. "I don't suppose we will ever be able to go back there again."
Julie looked sympathetically into Jenny's eyes, then took her hand and set her down on the couch. "Jenny, I'm from the future, from the town of Grantville. Do you believe me?"
Jenny leaned back and looked at the girl again. There was just something so different about her. Jenny couldn't quite place it. A radiance, health, something subtle that she could not put a name to. She thought about what they could possibly gain by lying to her, with some elaborate ruse. But she was just Jenny Geddes, greengrocer. And they had protected her from the king's men.
She decided. "Aye. I do believe you. Not sure why. But I do."
Julie smiled warmly. "Have you heard of Grantville, and the Ring of Fire?"
"Aye, the preacher was talking to it the other day. I figure the church don't know what to do about it, but they say it is real enough. That's all I know. Is that where you got that funny accent?"
"Doesn't sound funny to me, Jenny." Julie smiled, and both women laughed nervously. "Would you like to know how you did all of this? What you did?"
Otto leaned forward. "Girls, we are going to visit with Robert for a few minutes." Jenny gave him a "please don't leave me" look. He just smiled that odd smile of his, and patted her hand. "You're in good hands, Jenny. I'll be back in a moment. Julie will explain it all."
When the men filed out of the room, Jenny turned to Julie. "How in the world does someone like me manage to bring down that bloody papist, Charles?"
"Do you have a stool that you sit on in church?"
"Aye."
"Well, to start the war off, you threw the stool at a bishop. He was starting to read from a new liturgy that was put in place by Archbishop Laud. You are reported to have said something about 'preaching papist something or other to your lugs.'"
"Me?"
"And after that, the whole place went up for grabs, and a riot started. Then the riots spread, and the whole thing went on from there. This is supposed to happen about three years from now."
"Me?"
"It's what that history remembered you for."
"That history?"
"Well, Jenny, I say that history because it is the history I knew, in my world."
"I caused the whole thing to start? Me. Jenny Geddes, the widowed green grocer."
Julie just nodded. "It is a little hard to believe." She sighed and sat back on the couch. "Sometimes I don't think it's real myself. Before the Ring of Fire, I was a high school senior, head cheerleader, looking forward to graduation, college. And today, I'm in the seventeenth century, married to a fine man, with a new baby. That man's father, Robert, whose house this is, has a broken back, and he is dying. In my world, there was so much we could do to make him well—be able to live a full life. And we are trying to do so much . . ."
Jenny took Julie's hand, and gave it a squeeze. That odd look had come back into Julie's eyes, the one she saw a flash of when she first came into the room. Jenny tried to imagine what this girl must have gone through. She just squeezed a little harder.
They stayed like that for a moment, and Jenny began to think, trying to assimilate all that she had learned in the past few minutes. She knew it her gut it was true, and she knew that Otto was right. Without meeting Julie, she never would have believed it. A thought came to her. "Now I understand why the king's men were after me. They wanted to kill me so that I wouldn't throw my stool, and then there would be no war. That is it, isn't it?"
Julie pulled her hand back and brushed a bit of hair out of her face. "Well, no. At least we don't think so. Laud and Stafford have agreed to leave Scotland alone, so Charles can deal with all the people who overthrew him, or at least might have. But that history is not going to happen. It's impossible. So what's the point of coming after you? It makes no sense. They have agreed to leave the Scots alone. There are any number of stupid shit royals up here who helped Charles to the block, why pick on you?"
Jenny shrugged. "Heaven knows, I have no idea . . ." She paused for a moment. "Baroness?"
"Please. Call me Julie"
"Aye. Julie it shall be."
Otto half-staggered and was half-carried out of the pub by three soldiers. One was a sergeant, and the other two were regulars. He had gone to the bar with the goal of trying to find out who was behind the attempt to capture Jenny Geddes. He was leaving in a state of semi-consciousness.
Sergeant Thatcher had overheard the conversation, and could tell his men were being pumped for information by the German fellow, under cover of old warrior's tales. The German talked a big game, fighting with Tilly on the continent, Magdeburg, White Mountain. Trading stories. Garrison life must be dull, what do you men do to stay sharp? Chase greengrocer women? Who paid you to do that? How much does that sort of a job go for here? Can I buy you another beer?
It was at that point that Thatcher walked quietly up behind the man, and rapped him on the side of the head with the pommel of his sword. Not enough to kill him, certainly. Just enough to render him senseless for a while. There was a skill to hitting someone that way, and it took considerable practice over the years to get it right. As well as a few fatal and near-fatal errors. He'd gotten good at it by practicing on Irish prisoners five years ago.
They dragged him out of the pub, and waved at the concerned barkeep and the serving girls. "He's had a bit too much. We'll take care of him . . ." They dragged him toward an alley not far across the lane. There, Thatcher would find out who he was working for and report it to his Lieutenant. Should be a bonus in it for him, he figured.
"Take him over there, lads, and sit him down against the wall." Thatcher knelt before the semi-conscious Otto. "Well, well, well. What have we here? A German asking questions about a worthless green-grocer woman. I wonder why that is." He stood up, turned to his men, and smiled. "Right, lads. This is where I'm going to teach you a little about interrogation. Pay attention and learn from your sergeant." The two regulars grinned at each other expectantly.
"First, we need to wake this lad up." He squatted back down and began to slap Otto hard about the face, first one way and then the other. Otto moaned as he began to regain consciousness.
"Next, we need to make sure he is not going to go anywhere."
The first soldier spoke up. "Do you want us to tie him up so he won't run away?"
"No. Not necessary." Thatcher pulled his dagger and ran it through Otto's calf, just below the knee. Otto screamed. Thatcher twisted the dagger so he could pull it out. Otto screamed again. . "Wakes them up and keeps them from moving, it does."
The regulars nodded at the wisdom and efficiency of their sergeant. He squatted down next to Otto again.
"I know that a man such as yourself, who has been in so many illustrious battles, won't tell me anything because you are so tough." Thatcher grinned up at the two regulars. "But let me ask this. And you should answer, otherwise, I run you through on the other calf. Then your thighs, then the wrists, the arms, and finally your dick. You won't be dead. You will then tell me what I want to know, so that I kill you to stop the pain. Let's get started shall we? Who are you working for?"
"Fuck off, you shithead." The three soldiers laughed.
"Well, at least you aren't like some of those dammed Irish, begging for your life right away. There will be some sport in this, lads. Pay attention and learn from the master." All three men were smiling. The man on the ground in front of them was helpless, bleeding and holding his calf with both hands. They didn't see his right hand slipping into the top of his boot.
Sergeant Thatcher turned to smile at his two pupils. "Now, lads, the next cut will be to the opposite calf
They were just beginning to grin when Otto's dagger went deep into Thatcher's neck at the base of his skull.
Otto left the dagger where it struck and pulled the sergeant's sword from its sheath, launching a desperate lunge at the vulnerable neck of the closest soldier before either of them could react to his savage assault. Otto's lunge caught the man through the carotid artery . Blood sprayed from the wound as the man gurgled and stumbled backwards before falling to the cobblestones.
The third soldier had his sword out. He surprised Otto by attacking immediately instead of running. Otto barely parried the lunge, and stepped back defensively. His calf gave out and he fell to the ground. He cursed his incompetence as he fell, cursed himself for not remembering the wound. He made a mental note to remember wounds—if there was ever another.
"You bloody bastard," the remaining English soldier growled. Otto lay on his back with his blade raised ineffectively.
"Probably won't be a next time," thought Otto.
The soldier batted aside Otto's sword and stepped up to deliver a fatal thrust. Suddenly he froze. He looked confused, then reached behind him. His hand returned stained with blood.
Otto saw the light go from the man's still-confused eyes. Then the soldier fell.
"About goddamn time, MacKay."
"Aye, Otto, sorry. I had to piss."
"Well, hold it next time."
"How's the leg?"
"What do you think? It bloody hurts. I just hope the damage isn't too bad."
Alex surveyed the carnage in the alleyway. "After all of this, have we learned anything?"
"The soldiers in the tavern said it was some rich bastard by the name of Lauder. No idea why, just who."
"And just what is a Committee of Communication?"
"The Committee of Correspondence, Mr. Lauder." Lieutenant William Hignall sighed inwardly. His bosses in the privy council had told him to give this man whatever he wanted. Hignall was trying to accommodate, but he was not happy about it. He would be respectful, polite, and try very hard not to kill the idiot where he stood. He took a breath and continued. "The people hiding Jenny Geddes are called the Committees of Correspondence. There are a couple of Germans involved, as well as many Scots. My men apparently escorted a German out of the pub last night. According to the barkeep, this man is a known organizer with the committee."
"I thought they were killed due to your men quarreling among themselves, Hignall. As competent as they seem to be, it would not surprise me at all."
Hignall bit his tongue at the clumsy sarcasm. It was either bite, or run the man through right then and there. "Sir, the fact that we can get no information from our informants in the city is also typical of the Committee's methods. They are as bad as the worst criminal gangs, sir. And they are political. They are linked to the Americans in Thüringia. We have been unable to get a spy into their inner council."
"My God, you do have the excuses, Hignall!" Lauder's sharp and thin face looked as if it were about to burst. "All I wanted was a simple arrest and killing of one greengrocer, a woman at that. And this one German, who was dragged unconscious out of the pub, is possibly part of this correspondence committee and lethal enough to kill three of your men in an alley. It is far more likely your men were fighting over who was going to steal this German's boots, or whatever else he might have on him. Although I can't imagine anything he could have that was so valuable." The rich businessman stopped and wagged his finger, and Hignall had the briefest fantasy of snapping it off and shoving it up his ass. "This is simple incompetence, and I will have words with my friends on the privy council. You know what the council does, don't you, Hignall?"
Hignall felt his tongue bleeding in his mouth. "Yes, sir, I do. But—"
"The council is the group that advises the king on all matters regarding Scotland. They have the direct ear of the king. Most of them are my friends, Hignall. You would do well to remember that. It seems you need constant reminding."
Hignall swallowed some more blood, and replied. "Yes, sir."
"There's a limit to my patience, Hignall. Get the job done, soon. Otherwise we might embarrass the privy council, and that would be very—how should I say it?—awkward for you. So. You have two more days. Otherwise . . ." Lauder paused, and tugged on his goatee, and waved his hand. "Otherwise, there will be severe consequences for you. Do you understand?"
"Aye, sir. I understand."
"And Hignall, how many Germans do you think are in Edinburgh?"
"Can't be that many, sir. Less than a hundred maybe."
"Find that German from the pub. He should lead you to the woman."
Hignall bit his tongue even harder, if that was possible. "We are working on that now, sir. Looking for the German."
"You are? Wonderful. It seems you do have a brain, Lieutenant. You have two days. Any more than that, I will have to stop looking, and you will stop . . ." He smiled a great officious, oily and false smile. ". . . stop doing whatever it is you do."
Outside Lauder's fortified house, Hignall took the reins from his man, and they mounted the horses for the nine-mile ride back to the walls of Edinburgh. He spat the blood out of his mouth onto the ground. "This asshole wants to be a bloody damn Lord-dumbshit-royal-bastard." He spit more blood. "He don't need to work very hard at it, he already has the stupid-asshole-bitch-like-a-woman part down. He will fit right in with the rest of those pricks."
The soldier next to him nodded. "Aye, sir."
"We got to find us a German or two." Hignall spurred his mount harshly, and rode off toward the town. His man followed.
Julie Mackay rapped the proper code on the door of the safe house, with Thomas, the MacKay's bodyguard servant in tow. The door opened cautiously, and then was immediately thrown open.
"Julie! This be a surprise, lass. What brings ye here? Hello, Thomas." The large man nodded. "Well, come in, come in, don't stand out there like a couple of beggars, come on in. It's not too fancy, but it's clean." She closed the door behind them after a quick glance up the empty street.
"I've come to bring you a little present, Jenny. Is there somewhere a little more private that we can talk?" Jenny looked about the small first floor, and then at the staircase.
"Up here. But mind the seventh step."
"Why the seventh step, Jenny?"
As Jenny bounded up the stairs, she pointed to the seventh step. "This one here is a stumble step. It's different than all of the other stairs, so if ye be creeping up the stairs in the dark, and ye don't know the house, you are going to stumble and fall, and wake us up."
As Julie walked up the stairs, she smiled. "Well, son of a gun. Seventeenth-century burglar alarm. You have to step up another couple inches to clear it."
"Aye. Your Otto is a clever one, Julie."
"My Otto?" Julie giggled. "I sorta thought he was your Otto." She walked into one of the larger bedrooms on the second floor.
"Very funny. I got no time for that nonsense. Men can be a pain in the arse."
Julie sat on the side of the bed and motioned for Jenny to sit down beside her. "What do you mean, Jenny? Haven't you seen the way he looks at you? And smiles? In all the time I have known Otto, I have never seen him smile that way. And it is always at you. Nobody else I've ever seen."
Jenny remained standing, and fiercely shook her head. "I ain't seen nothing of the sort. You're imagining things, you are." She popped her pipe in her mouth with a frown. "I be too long in the tooth for that sort of thing, girl. No time, no money. Men can be a pain in the arse."
"Jenny. Please sit down."
"I am fine where I am, lass."
Julie snickered a little under her breath. "You know that Otto is a very busy man. He runs what we hope will become a real Committee in Edinburgh. Have you seen anyone else come and take care of you? Have you noticed the way he looks at you? The way he smiles? I noticed as soon as I saw him with you in Robert MacKay's home the other day. He likes you, Jenny."
"That be children's play, that is." She crossed her arms and pulled on the unlit pipe. "I ain't got the time nor the inclination for that sort of foolishness."
Julie laughed out loud. "I hear you saying it, Jenny. I'm not buying it."
"Suit yerself."
Julie grinned. "I am glad I met you, Jenny Geddes. I didn't realize how long it had been since I talked openly to another female about anything. I really needed to. We must have gone on for three hours."
Jenny cleared her throat, and put her pipe away to stall for some time. "Well, I think ye needed it too, Julie Mackay. Even if you are some sort of duchess or baroness, or whatever it is. And that little Alexi is a cutie. I'll be here for you if you need to talk, any time. Providing that the king's men finally give up on me someday."
"Do you want to see your present?"
After Julie and Thomas had left, Jenny showed the present to the girls. "This tiny little thing is a revolver. It is a gun, like a great gun a cavalryman wears, so don't you girls go messing with it. It looks like a toy, but she says that it will kill a man right quick. It's a twenty-two caliber, the smallest of the guns she has. I'm going to hide it under my bed and I don't want you two touching it. Ye hear me?"
"Yes, Mum."
She didn't tell them that Julie had shown her how to use it. It was to be used up close and personal. And she was to keep pulling the trigger until it stopped firing.
William Hignall knew that he had made a mistake the first time he did what that idiot Lauder had told him to do. Take the troop out and capture the woman. It didn't feel right the first time, and sure enough, it went to shite. He should have taken a small squad, just a few men, and picked her up at her home. No fancy show, just get the job done. This time, he was not going to make the same mistake. He broke the men up into three- and four-man teams, each one tracking one German or another. He took three of his better men with him, and went after any Germans that might be involved with the Committee of Correspondence. Those were the most promising leads. And one of those, a fellow named Otto, was the most likely prospect.
They tracked him, through the word of some street urchins, to a small, out of the way street that appeared to dead end. The urchins said he was there often. Hignall surveyed the short street. "We'll start on this side. Bang on the doors, break 'em down if you have to. We're looking for the German and Jenny Geddes."
The first decrepit townhouse they came to had a large family with six or seven kids living in two rooms, and another family upstairs. When the door was answered, they forced their way in, and there was a lot of screaming by children and adults.
Hignall grabbed one of the kids—she looked maybe nine or ten—and held her by the hair. His men kept the others at bay with drawn swords. "Quiet," he roared. "I am going to make this very simple. I am looking for a German, or a woman with two children. They might be on this piece of shite street. Who in here does this filth belong to?" He presented the child in front of him, still holding her by the hair, his dagger pulled and pointing at her neck. "I want an answer now, you ignorant Scottish bitch." He raised the blade as if to strike, and a woman came screaming and sobbing out of the gaggle of ragged people. She was halted at the points of the drawn swords of his men.
The woman sobbed, pacing in front of Hignall's men like a caged animal. Agitated, but harmless, thought Hignall. Like some bitch of a dog. "She be my child, sir. What do you want to know? Please don't hurt her. I'll tell you, what you want to know." The rest of the children were cowering in the corners, and a few had run off. Hignall didn't care much where they went; it didn't matter. He was going to find out what he needed right now.
He pressed the blade to the back of the child's neck. "Answer me, woman. Is there a German living on this street?"
She glanced with apprehension over her shoulder at her other children and what looked to be her husband, then turned nervously back to Hignall. "Aye. Please sir, let her go."
"Which dwelling?" The woman hesitated, and Hignall pressed the blade tighter to the little girl's neck. She began to whimper. "Which dwelling, woman?"
"He be three doors down, sir. Clean house it is, good house, with windows in it. Please sir, let her go."
"Anyone living with him?"
"He don't live there, sir, he just visits. Every day." She was struggling to be calm, fighting to stay rational. "Please, sir."
"Is there a woman and two kids living there, two girls about this one's size?" He nodded toward his hostage.
The woman dropped to her knees. "Please sir, do not harm my little girl. I beseech ye, please."
"Answer the dammed question, woman, or I will run her though in the name of the king. A woman and two children?"
"Aye sir, she be the one you are looking for. Three doors down. Please sir, I beg ye."
Hignall snapped, "You know this is the one we have been looking for? Why didn't you come forward?"
"I don't know, sir."
Hignall almost whispered. "The next time your king, through his men, tells you to do something, you do it, woman!" With that, he pulled back his dagger and neatly sliced off one of the girl's ears. She screamed, the mother screamed, and Hignall threw the bleeding child toward her. "You will be reminded of your duty to your king every day now. All of you."
He turned and stalked out of the room and into the street, wiping the blade of his dagger between his fingers to clean it. "Damn these Scots. They are almost as bad as the Irish." He turned to his men. "Let's get this over with. I need a drink." He sheathed his dagger and strode to the third door down, leaving the screams behind him.
"Prime your wheel locks, lads"
"Aye, sir"
"Shoot the German if he's there, and run everyone else through. We'll just take the heads, don't need the whole thing."
Jenny heard the screaming from down the street, and tried to see from the window what was happening. Outlaws usually don't go into homes like that one with the screaming children, and seldom in the daylight. Nothing there to steal. They must be searching, she thought, searching for me. She saw a couple of children run away in panic from the house, then turn with their hands on their head and start sobbing, walk a couple of paces back to the house, and run away again. Helpless in their agony and fear. Jenny bit her lip.
"Elspeth, Dolina. We are going to run out the back and through the alley. Can you find the Mackay house if we get separated?"
"Aye, Mum," replied Elspeth.
Dolina began to sniffle. "I'm scared, Mum."
"Don't be scared. Your big sister will take care of you. Listen and obey her. But you must run like the wind, my little lassies, like the wind. I need to get something from upstairs. I will be right back." As she turned and sprinted up the stairs, the first thuds of men trying to batter the door could be heard. The girls screamed.
"Run now!"
Jenny darted out of the bedroom with the revolver. Her hands were shaking, and she felt naked with this little weapon. The door exploded inward, and the men stormed into the room downstairs.
Jenny drew back into the bedroom as quietly as possible, looking at the small weapon in her hands. She stepped up onto a stool, looked out the tiny window, and watched the girls running, hand in hand, as fast as they could go.
Hignall entered the room and stood still, listening. He saw an open door at the back of the house, and sprinted to look through the door.
"This place has a back door. These places never have goddamn back doors. Smith. Get after them kids."
"Aye sir, what about the mother?"
"Never mind her. She's still here."
"How do you know that, sir?" one of the men asked.
"Because no mother would run in front of her children. They are always behind. She's still here." Hignall looked around the two rooms that made up the first floor. He could see no cellar, only a staircase going up. He smiled, and nodded to his remaining men. "Follow me, men."
"Aye, sir."
Otto Artman was bleeding from his calf as he limped at a furious pace toward the safe house. He had avoided a group of soldiers once, and he was worried. As he rounded the corner, he realized he needed to be worried. He had seriously misjudged the amount of effort Lauder was putting into finding Jenny. The first house he came to was in chaos. No time for that. He continued down the street, now leaving frequent drops of his own blood as he walked. When he saw the door to the safe house off of its hinges his heart went dark. Knowing what might be happening beyond the open doorway made him angry at a primal level. He drew his sword and dagger and charged through the open door .
He came face to face with three soldiers, one of them an officer. English regulars. The king's men. His face drew back into a snarl, and he attacked. Otto went low, hoping to score a quick hit on the officer, but the man was already poised for combat before Otto came through the doorway and easily parried Otto's thrusting sword.
"Shoot this son of a bitch." The officer called as he stepped out of the line of fire.
Wheel lock pistols came out of the belts. Otto dove blindly to the side, landing on the bottom of the stairway as one of the guns discharged. The noise was deafening, and the smoke that formed was thick and acrid.
The soldier who had fired dropped his pistol drew his sword, and charged Otto.
In Otto's mind the man was dead already. He easily parried the soldier's thrusting sword before closing to thrust his dagger into the man's belly.
The soldier dropped his sword, both hands felt for the wound in his belly. "You've killed me, you bastard!" he hissed, falling and rolling into the path of the other two men.
Otto's eyes turned to the second wheel lock. He backed up the stairs as the officer came after him. The soldier with the wheel lock followed, trying to get a clear shot from his position behind the officer on the narrow stairway. Smoke filled the air and rose up the stairway, stinging everybody's eyes.
Sergeant Robert Smith felt a little foolish chasing a couple of kids with a drawn sword. They had ducked down a gangway between two buildings, and ran into an opening beyond. As he was about to round the corner, a dusty arm the size of a tree branch suddenly extended across his path. He could feel his head stay stationary, and the rest of his body move forward. He had a curious sensation in his neck. His feet swung out and he fell onto his back, breathless. As he was lying on the ground, looking up at the sky, two giants appeared. Their rock-hard hands picked him up as if he was a rag doll.
"Da," one of them said. "Don't kill him in front of the children."
Robert wanted to agree, but he found he could not speak. As a matter of fact, he noticed he was very short of breath. His limbs dangled at his side, and he couldn't move. As the giants carried him away, he heard another popping noise come from his neck, and then there was merciful blackness.
Otto continued to back up the stairs, thrusting at the officer, attempting to keep the officer between him and the remaining wheel lock while also preventing the officer drawing his own pistol. They moved from side to side, always moving, going up the stairs one at a time. Otto felt the stumble stair, and stepped up. He planned his attack.
But the officer was good. He had seen the adjustment that Otto made for the stairs, despite the smoke, and cleared the step easily. He easily parried Otto's attack, and drove him back another step. Otto lost his balance, and had to hop up another stair to keep upright. Finally a safe distance from Otto's deadly sword the officer dropped out of the line of fire. "Shoot, goddammit, shoot!"
Otto found himself staring down the length of the stairway into the barrel of a wheel lock pistol. Time seemed to slow down. Otto watched the soldier jerk the trigger. He saw the wheel rotate at the side of the weapon, creating a shower of sparks. As he tried to dive of the way he saw the flash of the pan igniting.
Otto felt pressure in his head, and his vision went black. He was angry at his failure.
Hignall's ears were ringing; the German—Hignall assumed he was the German—was sprawled across the stairway. Hignall rose to his knees and looked up the stairs. There was a woman standing at the top. He smiled through the smoke. "Hello, Jenny Geddes."
The voice that came back to him was hard as steel on a midwinter's night. "You have the advantage, sir. I don't believe we have met."
"Lieutenant William Hignall, the King's Men."
"Aren't you supposed to say, 'at your service,' or something like that?"
"Normally I would, but in this circumstance—Well, I'm sure you understand." He smiled, and started to stand.
A heavy footstool raced toward his head. He dropped to the stairs again, and the soldier behind him caught the stool hard in the face. He saw the man stumble and fall. Hignall pursed his lips as he saw the angle of the man's neck. Broken.
He got up again and looked to the top of the stairs. "You bitch. I've had enough out of you." Sword in hand he kicked the sprawled body of Otto to check for signs of life before continuing up the stairs.
The woman was waiting at the top. She had her arms extended, and in her hands was what had to be a pocket pistol of some kind. Arrogantly he reached out with the blade to slap it out of her hand, but it fired. Something tore along his cheek. He felt the wound with his left hand. Something had gouged a gully through the flesh of his cheek and torn up his ear. He tried to curse her, but it hurt. He shook his head to clear the fog and the pain. He went for her again, a lunge with the blade. The gun popped again and the side of his neck stung. His hand went to it. What the hell is happening?
He took another step up the stairs. She backed up. He thrust at her with his sword.
The gun popped a third time and his shoulder exploded with pain. He dropped his sword.
She now took a step toward him. He raised his other arm to tell her to stop. There was another pop, louder this time, and his hand, wrist, and forearm exploded in pain. He felt pieces of bone and blood and tissue splatter his face.
She came closer. He could see it clearly now. It was like no gun he'd ever seen before. Something buzzed by his ear, like an angry insect. He could not believe what was happening to him. It wasn't supposed to be like this, not in some run down building by some bitch of a wo—
He never finished the thought. A bullet went into his right eye and tore through his brain.
Jenny sat in the library at the MacKay house, with her daughters. They huddled together on a sofa, but Elspeth and Dolina were both asleep. Julie entered the room and quietly closed the door behind her. She sat across from them, and looked at the girls.
"You have a nice family, Jenny."
Jenny had a far off look in her eyes. She shook her head slightly.
"What is it, Jenny?"
Jenny glanced down at the girls, then back up at Julie. "You didn't tell me what it would do to him. I kept going until it was empty. At his face."
"Jenny. I know it is hard to kill someone. But if they are going to hurt you, or someone you love, you need to—"
"No, lass. You don't understand. His face, that man's face. I want to remember it for a long time. That wee gun of yours made it look like a slab of meat with holes in it."
Julie's eyebrow arched in surprise. "What?"
Jenny smiled. "That man and his men were bastards. Deserved what they got. I know that, and God knows that too. That don't bother me none at all. That is simply doing the right thing. I want to remember that face, because of what it means to me. Bloody tyranny, that is what it represents. Just bloody tyranny. That is gonna be a face I remember for a long time."
"You're sounding like a Committee of Correspondence recruiter."
"Aye, and maybe that is what I should be a doing with my time, instead of greengrocer. Something better for my kids, better world."
"You are not sounding like a stubborn and hard-headed Scotswoman, Jenny," Julie said.
"Aye, that's true. But that don't mean I can't go doing that in a hardheaded and stubborn way." She giggled quietly. "And I throw a mean stool."
"Did you really get one of those guys with a stool?"
"I certainly did. The one that shot Otto. The bastard."
The door opened and Alex stuck his head in. "He's awake."
Jenny got up as quickly as she could, extracting herself from her sleeping daughters, and dashed over to Alex. "Can I see him?"
Julie came up behind her. "He has a nasty concussion. The bullet grazed his skull. So be very quiet, he is still a little out of it." They went down the hall, past Robert MacKay's room, and into another room on the first floor. The curtains were drawn, keeping the light to a minimum, and in the bed was Otto, his eyes open. Somewhat glazed, to be sure, but still open.
When Jenny walked into the room, he smiled. "I am glad to find you alive, Jenny Geddes."
She walked quickly to his bedside, smiling back at him. "I'm glad to find you alive too, Otto. How are ye feeling?"
"Not too bad, considering the circumstances. So, I guess we won then?"
"Aye, we did at that. We have taken the liberty of using your newly arrived printing press to put up posters, explaining who was behind the attempt to capture me. The king's men have been asked to leave Edinburgh by the privy council, and our Mr. Lauder is not likely to be a lord of anything. He lost a few friends on the council, but nobody is willing to come out and say he was behind it. And the mood of the city is—interesting." She moved closer to Otto, and now held his hand. "Ain't that something?"
Otto smiled that curious smile, and squeezed her hand.
Jenny froze. She looked at her hand. She looked at Julie, who was smiling at her with an overtone of smugness. She looked at Alex, who was pretending not to see anything except the ceiling. Jenny snapped her hand back and glared at Julie and Alex. "Just because I held his hand, don't mean a thing. Don't you go supposing what I be thinking. We've got a world to change. No time for nonsense. There be a whole world of no-good lords and ladies that will need a stool thrown at them now and again. That's what I'm gonna do."
She dug her pipe from her pocket, popped it in her mouth and folded her arms in front of her. "Men can just be a pain in the arse."