01x02 - Castle Leoch

[bunniefuu]

Previously...

We were in Scotland on our second honeymoon.

This is a pattern I've not seen before.

The marriage line's divided.

The life line's forked.

Where will we be watching the spectacle?

There is a place called Craigh Na Dun.

There is a local group who used to observe rituals there.

[intense music]

[g*nsh*t]

[gasping]

♪

You're not Frank.

No, madam, I am not.

[screams]

What's your name?

Claire Beauchamp.

I'm a nurse.

[grunts]

Thank you, Sassenach. Truly.

As much as my rational mind rebelled against the idea, I knew in my heart I was no longer in the 20th century.

♪ 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... ♪

[mellow folk tune]

♪

[indistinct chatter]

The last time I was here, Frank and I simply took the car.

But after spending two days and nights jolting along on a horse, I knew I'd never find my way back, not unless I convinced these people to help me in some way.

Dougal, you're back early, man.

We hadna thought to see ye before the gathering.

Aye, well, we've had some luck some good, some bad.

Rupert, ye great fat fart, what have you done to my Peggy now?

Did I not tell you to tighten her girth?

Let me be, old rat.

I been riding all night, and I don't need you squalling in my ear.

Did ye never even look at her hooves?

You canna expect any beast to carry around something that weighs as much as you without taking care of the poor creature's feet.

Like a cow riding a mouse. [Laughs]

Shut yer hole.

[children laughing]

[speaking Gaelic]

Rupert, m'dear!

How good to see ye!

Oh, my dear. [Laughing]

Mwah!

Ye'll all be needing breakfast, I reckon.

Plenty in the kitchen.

Away in, and feed yerselves.

[chuckles]

Murtagh, you look and smell like a rat that's been dragged through sheep dung.

Gi' us a kiss, then.

Oh, no! A kiss, then!

[laughing]

And what do we have here?

Claire Beauchamp, Mistress Fitzgibbons.

Murtagh found her, and Dougal said we must bring her along with us, so...

So.

Well...

Claire.

Come with me.

We shall find you something to eat, something to wear that's a bit more...

Well, a bit more.

Well, what about him?

[scoffs] I can fend for myself.

No, you're hurt. He was sh*t yesterday.

I'll be fine.

No, you won't.

I bandaged his shoulder, but I wasn't able to clean it or dress it properly.

I must tend to it before it gets infected.

I mean, inflamed.

You know, with... with fever and swelling.

Oh, aye.

I ken fine what ye mean.

But do you mean to say you know what to do for that?

Are ye a charmer, then?

A Beaton?

Something like that.

Jamie.

Ye heard the lady.

Ye need tending.

This way.

Let's get you out of the rain.

As you asked, garlic and witch hazel to boil the rags.

I also brought you comfrey and cherry bark for the pain.

Perfect.

Call out if you need anything else.

I will. Thank you, Ms. Fitzgibbons.

Everybody calls me Mrs. Fitz.

You may also.

The Redcoats.

Flogged me twice in the space of a week.

They'd have done it twice the same day, I expect, were they not afraid of k*lling me.

There's no joy in flogging a dead man.

I shouldn't think anyone would do such a thing for joy.

Hmph, well, If Randall was not precisely joyous, he was at least very pleased with himself.

Clumsy. It'll have to be boiled again.

[clears throat]

Why were you flogged?

Hmm, well, the first time was escaping Fort William.

And the second was theft.

Or at least, that's what the charge sheet read.

Why were you escaping in the first place?

[whispers] They were holding me prisoner.

I gathered that.

[Chuckles]

Why? On what charge?

Oh, that. I think it was, um... obstruction.

Obstruction? What's that?

It doesn't sound like a serious crime.

Ah, well, I suppose it's whatever the English say it is.

Aye, it was near to four years ago now.

[metal clanking]

They put a levy on all the land-holders in the county, sent out small parties of soldiers collecting food, horses for transport, and suchlike.

Aye, it was one day in October, Captain Randall came along to our place.

My father was away.

He'd gone to a funeral.

[ominous music]

[woman screams]

I was up in the fields when I heard shouting.

[screaming] No!

No, no!

[screaming]

Jenny!

[Grunting]

Jenny, run!

Consider yourself carefully.

I surrender to you, sir.

Now... now let my sister be.

Your sister?

That's interesting.

[groans]

Shh.

She's, uh, she's bonny.

I'll take a closer look.

No!

No! [Grunting]

No!

Bring his head up.

He wanted to send a message.

This is what you get when you fight back against the English.

[whip cracks, Jamie gasps]

[whip cracks]

[whip cracks]

[groans, gasps]

Mm.

Ah.

You care to see more?

Or would you rather go into the house and offer me better entertainment?

Don't go with him.

Even if he slits my throat right before your eyes.

So...

She went with him.

She thought he'd k*ll me, and, ah... perhaps she was right.

After that, I dinna ken what happened.

When I woke up, I was trussed up in the wagon with the chickens, jolting down the road to Fort William.

I'm so sorry.

That must have been terrible for you.

Oh, aye.

Chickens are very poor company.

[chuckles]

Mm.

Don't do that.

I'm going to strap that arm to your side.

Hmph.

Just hold still.

Hmm.

You're a kind woman with a good touch.

[grunts]

[chuckles]

Your husband is a lucky man.

My husband.

What was Frank going through?

His wife disappears without a trace, without a word, without explanation.

Fears would prey on him.

Perhaps I was abducted. Perhaps I was dead.

Claire?

Perhaps, worst of all, I had left him for another man.

Mrs. Randall?

Claire!

Mistress.

Mrs. Beauchamp, what's wrong?

I'm fine.

I was just thinking about my husband.

Oh.

Lass...

Is he not alive?

No, actually.

He's not alive.

[sobbing]

Shh.

Shh.

Therhh. Do not cry.

[sobbing] No, shh.

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.

You need not be scared of me.

Nor anyone else here, so long as I'm with ye.

When you're not with me?

Just never forget that you're English in a place where that's not a pretty thing to be.

Thank you, I will.

Watch yourself.

Now, you sleep a bit.

You're worn out.

Likely someone will want to speak to you before too long.

I suppose you're right. [Sniffles]

You must get up now! Come along!

Up with ye!

You slept the whole day. 'Tis near 5:00.

I've some hot broth for ye by the fire.

Rouse yourself.

Thank you.

[clapping] Come along.

What kind of corset is that?

Um, it's a brassière.

It's from France.

Oh.

Good and tight.

There.

Now you're ready to be taken to himself.

[knock at door]

[latch clicks, hinges creaks]

Wait here.

[bird chirping]

If I was going to survive, I needed to acclimatize myself as quickly as possible.

I knew where I was, but when?

From the clothes and weapons alone, I knew it was most likely the 18th century.

1743.

Scotland is definitely part of Great Britain.

I see you've met some of my friends.

Forgive me for helping myself.

Some old comrades... some new acquaintances yet to make their secrets known... but all friends nonetheless.

I welcome ye, mistress.

My name is Colum Ban Campbell Mackenzie, Laird of this castle.

Please.

Seventeen forty-three, decades before the American revolution.

England and France are at w*r again.

One of the Hanover kings is on the throne.

But which one?

It was my understanding that my brother and his men found you in some apparent distress.

"Apparent"?

I was att*cked and nearly r*ped by one of the soldiers of King George II.

And other than this, uh, this near r*pe, you suffered no further molestation?

No.

Please extend my gratitude to your brother for his kind escort.

I will, of course, need to arrange transport back to Inverness as soon as possible.

I'm sure something can be arranged.

But I do myself wish to know how exactly a lady such as yourself came to be wandering about in the woods, dressed in nothing but her shift.

It's interesting.

I took a course in withstanding interrogation as part of officer training, and the basic principle was that you stick to the truth as much as humanly possible, only altering those details that have to be kept secret.

I am a widowed lady from Oxfordshire.

I was traveling with a manservant to distant relatives in France, and we were set upon by highwaymen.

While I managed to escape the bandits, I was forced to abandon my horse and property.

While wandering through the woods, I was suddenly att*cked by Captain Jack Randall.

I believe you know of him.

It was during this unpleasant encounter that I was relieved of my clothes.

It's true that Captain Randall has a certain reputation.

But he is an officer. A gentleman.

Hmm.

And you're saying that a man bearing the king's commission decided to r*pe a stray lady traveler he came upon in the woods, for no good reason.

Is there ever a good reason for r*pe, Master Mackenzie?

I beg your forgiveness, madam.

An unfortunate turn of phrase on my part.

Not at all.

I believe we were discussing my transport back to Inverness.

Aye.

A tinker by the name of Sean Petrie, he will be here Saturday next.

He stops at Leoch on his way to Inverness once a month, and he often has room for one or two passengers.

Saturday next? Forgive me.

I've lost track in all the confusion.

Oh, not at all. Five days from now.

Meanwhile...

I offer you the hospitality of our humble home.

Thank you.

Five days.

Five days, and I would be back on the road to Inverness, and then back to the stones atop Craigh Na Dun, and hopefully back home.

I did know something of this era the politics, the people, their dress.

Even some of their customs and colloquialisms were familiar.

But it was all secondhand knowledge, acquired from books, museums, paintings.

It was like landing on an alien world you'd only glimpsed through a telescope.

[kids shouting]

Aye, lads.

Well, two against one, hey? That's not fair.

How about two against two?

Where you going?

What about you? One on one, come on, Hamish.

Show us your moves.

Oh, that's it, good lad.

Oh, very good.

Oh, very quick. Oh!

Oh, come on. Oh!

Oh, no, no, you wouldna k*ll an unarmed...

[groans] Man! Oh, no!

But he's not dead!

Ah, I've got ye! I've got ye!

Aah!

But then you begin to wonder if maybe life on this alien world is not so different after all.

[utensils clinking, indistinct chatter]

[dramatic music]

[chatter resumes]

Allow me.

Thank you.

May I present my wife, Letitia?

Letitia, Mrs. Claire Beauchamp, an English lady of Oxfordshire.

A pleasure to meet ye.

The pleasure's mine.

I trust Mrs. Fitzgibbons found you comfortable lodgings?

Very. She's a wonder.

The wonder is how she manages to bake bannocks such as these with the poor ovens we have in the kitchens.

[chuckles]

Why "Beech-ham"?

I beg your pardon?

I was wondering why you call yourself Claire "Beech-ham."

It's my name.

Aye, but if your family hail from France, would it not be more properly

"Bo-cham"?

Well, the ties we have to France are old, but not close.

At some point, I suspect an ancestor decided to adopt the English style.

And what part of France do your folk come from, exactly?

The relatives I have are from the north, near Compiègne.

Compiègne.

I trust Mr. Mactavish is feeling better.

Mr. Mactavish?

She means young Jamie.

Jamie? Why?

Whatever is the matter with the lad?

Naught but a scratch, my dear.

Where is he, though, Dougal?

I sent him to the stables to help auld Alec with the horses.

The stables?

Best place for him under the circumstances.

Dinna want him inside the walls.

But it's yours to choose, if you don't agree with my orders.

I reckon he'll do well enough there.

Bring us a bottle of the Rhenish.

Oh, now, you won't find this in Oxfordshire.

Are ye bound for Compiègne, then?

Compiègne, uh, yes.

[speaking Gaelic]

Ahh. It's a lovely city, wouldn't you agree?

[suspenseful music]

In truth, I... I wouldn't know, having never been there myself.

First visit?

Yes.

And will you be staying with family?

Distant family.

Never met them?

♪

No. But I look forward to it, though.

A joyous occasion, I imagine.

♪

One can only hope.

Hello.

My name is Claire.

Go on, then. Give her your name.

Hamish.

Oh, it's a pleasure to meet you, Hamish.

I saw you playing earlier today in the courtyard with your father.

With my father?

Yes, surely you remember, Dougal.

[laughs] You were swinging him around.

I'm sorry, I... appear to have made an error.

I'm the son and heir of Colum Mackenzie.

Indeed you are.

[taps chair]

I'm afraid the rigors of the past few days have been catching up with me.

If you'll excuse me, I... think I shall retire early tonight.

A good night to ye, then...

Mrs. "Beech-ham."

Frank would have laughed and said I fell for the oldest trick in the book ply the subject with food and drink, but all the while continuing the interrogation.

I would have to be more careful if I were to survive the next five days.

[thunder rumbling]

[utensils clinking, indistinct chatter]

[murmurs under breath]

You missed breakfast.

Still some porridge.

Warm it for ye?

No.

I, uh, I was thinking I should change the bandage on Mr. Mactavish's shoulder.

Jamie.

Where would I find the stables?

Top of the meadow.

To the east.

[kids shouting, indistinct chatter]

[whimsical music]

♪

Good.

[clicks tongue] Come on.

[speaking Gaelic]

[clicking tongue]

[speaking Gaelic]

Whoa.

[speaking Gaelic]

[metal clanks]

[horse whinnies]

I'm so sorry about that.

[grunts]

[speaking Gaelic]

She's just a girl with spirit is all.

That's always a good thing.

What can I do for you, Mistress Beauchamp?

It's what I can do for you.

Some fresh bandages and some lunch.

Aye.

Quite the appetite.

I should think you'd eat grass if there was nothing else.

I have.

Doesna taste bad, but it's not very filling.

You've actually eaten grass?

Mm-hmm.

The winter.

Year before last.

I was living rough, you know, in the woods wi' a group of lads, raiding cattle.

We'd had poor luck for a week and more and no food amongst us left.

One might ask why you were raiding cattle and living the life of a thief instead of tending to your own farm.

There was a price on my head.

10 pounds sterling.

A farmer's whole year in these parts.

Seems excessive for a single escaped prisoner.

No, not for escape.

For m*rder.

But I didn't actually k*ll the man I'm wanted for.

You're a very complicated man, Mr. Mactavish.

Nay.

Nay, it's a simple story, really.

I told you what happened to me at Fort William.

Mm-hmm.

I could hardly move for a day or two after I'd been flogged the second time.

And I had fever from the wounds.

Once I could stand again, though, some some friends made shift to get me out of the camp by means I'd best not go into.

And there was some ruckus as we left, and a Redcoat was sh*t.

Not by you.

To tell you the truth, I was too weak to do more than hang onto the horse.

Four years ago now.

More like an old dream, but... there it is.

I take it your real name's not Mr. Mactavish.

No.

No, it's not.

A nom de guerre, as it were.

[chuckles] If you like.

You know, it's valuable information, that.

You know, I... I doubt there are informers in the castle itself, but, you know, there might be some about the countryside be glad enough to earn a few pennies by letting the English know where I was, Did they know I as a wanted man.

Does Colum know?

That I'm an outlaw?

Mm-hmm.

[Chuckles]

Aye, aye, Colum knows.

And Dougal.

But they're uncles on my mother's side.

Now I know.

Why did you tell me?

You asked.

That's no answer.

You could have lied or told me it was none of my business.

Well, I suppose I could have.

Didn't think of that.

Decided to trust ye instead.

[speaking Gaelic]

Are you done stuffing your face while the horses run wild?

And when will that colt be broken?

None the sooner for starving myself, [speaks Gaelic].

[chuckles]

I best be returning to work.

Thank you for the food and the, uh...

Just try not to get flogged or stabbed today.

That'll be thanks enough.

No promises, Sassenach.

Are you following me?

You are. Why?

[huffs]

You could at least do me the courtesy of an answer.

Did Colum tell you to follow me?

Nah.

Dougal, then?

Ken, for a woman, you do ask a fair amount of questions.

So I've been told.

Well, I have nae answers for ye.

I am but Dougal's eyes, not his head.

But let me warn ye, mistress: these eyes won't be turning their gaze from ye until the head orders me to.

Pfft.

It could be worse.

I'll be sharing guard duty with Angus, and you'll not be finding him as charming as myself.

He's in his cups more than out of them.

A fornicator of women and a shagger of wee beasties when there's no women to be found.

So I suggest you enjoy me while you can, because you'll be yearning for me when you feel the foul breath of that mad bastard on the back of your neck. [Chuckles]

Lovely.

Lucky for you, he prefers female creatures with the tang of the farmyard aboot them.

Then I'll remember to bathe regularly.

Aye, he wouldna ken what to make of that.

Well, clearly, you suspect me of something, or you wouldn't have people watching me.

Perhaps you'd be so kind as to give me a notion of your suspicions, or is that too much to...

I suspect you may be an English spy.

A spy? Me?

Ye have no told the truth about who and what you are.

Of that I'm sure.

And until I am sure of ye, I'll have you watched day and night.

Now you ken my mind.

Very well.

But I think you'll find I'll be doing very little of interest over the next four days.

I do hope your spies give you a full report.

Four days?

Yes.

I leave with Mr. Petrie on Saturday.

Forgive me. I would've thought your brother would have told you that.

Perhaps you don't ken his mind.

[humming big band tune]

For the next few days, I determined to maintain a simple routine, both to keep my mind occupied while I awaited the tinker's arrival and to give Dougal's men nothing of the slightest interest to report.

[humming]

♪

Mrs. Fitz put me to work helping to harvest food for the kitchen.

[big band music]

I found a quiet sense of pleasure in touching growing things once more, felt the satisfaction of helping them thrive.

♪

Those kind are poison.

Oh! [Gasps]

[laughs]

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh.

[sighs] I imagine it was funny from over there.

Thanks for the warning, though, but I do know those mushrooms are poisonous.

Who is it you're planning to do away with?

Your husband, perhaps?

Tell me if it works, and I'll try it on mine.

Actually... now, while the caps of these mushrooms are poisonous, you can make a powder out of the dried fungi.

It's very effective in stopping bleeding when applied topically.

Fancy that.

My name is Geillis. Geillis Duncan.

I'm sorry, I should have introduced myself.

My name is...

I know who you are, Claire.

The village has been humming with talk of ye since you came to the castle.

What is it they're saying about me?

That you're likely a Sassenach spy.

You know, those will start bleeding to get rid of a child you don't want.

Brings on your flux.

But only if you use it early.

Too late, and it can k*ll you as well as the child.

The girls in the village come to me every now and again for such things.

They say I'm a witch.

Are you?

Hardly.

Although I am aware of how wood betony can transform toads into pigeons.

[chuckles]

You should come visit me sometime down in the village.

I have a cabinet full of potions and medicinals

I wager would tickle yer fancy.

But I hope I'll see you tonight at the hall.

The hall?

[somber bagpipe music]

♪

After a week's observation, I diagnosed Colum's condition as Toulouse-Lautrec syndrome.

Named for its most famous sufferer who did not yet exist, I reminded myself, it was a degenerative disease of bone and connective tissue.

♪
♪

Lautrec d*ed at age 38.

And given the state of medicine in the 18th century, Colum Mackenzie was most certainly living on borrowed time.

[music stops]

Masters William Talbot and Fingal Duncan, will ye stand forth?

[speaking Gaelic]

They're neighbors.

Having a dispute over a cow.

A cow?

[speaking Gaelic]

He sayswell, let me see.

It's all right.

I have the feeling something would be lost in translation.

Kyle Ferguson, step forward and present yourself.

[militaristic music]

♪

[speaking Gaelic]

[speaking Gaelic]

They're fighting over some property.

[speaking Gaelic]

[speaking Gaelic]

Mm-mm.

Her father accuses her of loose behavior.

[speaking Gaelic]

Her father wishes the Mackenzie to have her punished for disobedience.

[speaking Gaelic]

[crowd murmuring]

[whimpering]

No.

[speaking Gaelic]

[speaking Gaelic]

[crowd murmuring]

[speaking Gaelic]

He's offering to take the girl's punishment.

What?

But he's still injured.

Mm-hmm. [Speaking Gaelic]

They're arguing it now.

[speaking Gaelic]

[laughter]

[speaking Gaelic]

[crowd murmuring]

[speaking Gaelic]

He allows it.

[speaking Gaelic]

He chooses fists. Fists?

Rather than the strap.

[quietly] If ye'd wanted a b*ating, I'd been happy to oblige ye.

Aye, but... you might have done some real damage.

Watch yourself, laddie.

Your uncle is up to something.

[tense music]

♪

Oof!

[grunts]

How long must this go on for?

Only until blood's drawn.

Usually when their nose is broken.

[grunts] [crowd gasps]

This is barbarous.

[crowd murmuring]

[grunts]

[crowd murmuring in astonishment]

Aah!

[grunts]

[whispers] Claire, stay here.

[gasps]

This way is quicker, and you'll stir less gossip.

Here.

Why did you do that?

Take that girl's punishment?

Do you know her?

Ken who she is.

[grunts]

Haven't really spoken to her, though.

Then why?

It would have shamed the lass to have been beaten in the hall before everyone that knows her.

Taken a long time to get over it.

[grunts] It's easier for me.

I'm sore, but I'm nae really damaged.

I'll get over it in a couple days.

Oh, here ye are, lad.

Rinse your mouth with this.

It'll cleanse the cuts and ease the pain.

Willow bark tea, with a bit of ground orris root.

Ground up well.

Top of life.

What you did was kindly meant, lad.

Laoghaire is my granddaughter, ye ken?

Take that bandage off your shoulder in the next two days.

Would it not be easier if you did that?

Yes, but I'll be gone.

I'm leaving with Mr. Petrie tomorrow.

Ah.

I see.

Well...

Then perhaps this is good-bye.

Yes.

[floor creaks]

I think someone would like to speak with you, alone.

Aye.

Well, good-bye to you, then, Jamie.

Safe journeys to ye, Claire.

The bannocks should last a day or two, and the cheese will keep for a week.

You've been too kind, Mrs. Fitzgibbons.

I can't thank you enough.

Think nothing o' it, lass.

Safe journey to ye.

Colum wishes to see ye.

Why?

It doesna matter why.

All right.

I'll be back in a minute.

[voice echoing] Come on.

Three, two, one.

Something wrong?

No.

Good day to ye, Mrs. Beauchamp.

Good day.

Ye have no connections with clan Beaton, have ye?

The Beatons? No.

The healers of clan Beaton are famous through The Highlands.

We had one here, until he caught a fever which carried him off within a week.

Davie Beaton was his name.

And this was his surgery, he called it.

Really?

[voice echoing] All this... and no one to share it with?

I understand you have quite some skill as a healer yourself.

It's an interest of mine, yes.

You know the uses of these potions and things?

Some.

This is all really fascinating.

Thank you for showing me.

But I... I must be going.

Seeing as we have not had a healer since Davie passed, I want you to take up the work.

[voice shaking] But I'm leaving.

No. You're staying.

What did Dougal say to you?

Did one of his thugs make up lies about me?

My brother keeps his own counsel on you.

This is my decision.

Then why am I staying?

Because it is my pleasure that you do so.

Because you think I'm a spy.

Surely you don't believe that.

I believe that you have secrets, Claire.

Now, maybe they're the kind of secrets that every woman has, which pose no thr*at to me, to Leoch, or to clan Mackenzie.

But until I know for sure, you will remain here... as my guest.

You mean as your prisoner, don't you?

Only if you try to leave.

[somber music]