Page 77 of Highland Crown
Surprise and then smug satisfaction registered on Hudson’s face as he slowly turned and faced the others. “Indeed. Take him into custody, Colonel. Now.”
CHAPTER22
Revenge, the sweetest morsel to the mouth that ever was cooked in hell.
—Sir Walter Scott,The Heart of Mid-Lothian
Cinaed had to keep Isabella out of the room. He couldn’t allow her to think she had any responsibility in this. She believed Searc sacrificed himself for her that morning by volunteering to go with the British soldiers to keep her from being discovered. He tried to make her understand that Hudson had come to the house to arrest Searc, using force if he had to. No other reason explained arriving so early. The streets were empty of people, and he brought a sufficient number of men to do it.
“Trespass on property of the Crown. Illegal assembly. Incitement to commit violence. Sedition. Conspiracy to commit treason.”
Cinaed paced the room as Philip Kenedy read the charges from the printed handbill. The notices were being plastered all over the waterfront. All the other men who’d gathered with him in the study—Blair, Carmichael, the leadership of the weavers, and several of Searc’s men—also knew.
He cursed himself for allowing Hudson to take Searc. But his own men believed that their master could talk himself free of any situation. He was a friend to the commander of the port of Inverness. He knew the Deputy Governor of Fort George very well, but the man was at Fort William, according to the weavers.
In the absence of the general, Hudson was abusing his power. Because the assembly had been held on “ship lands,” controlled by the Royal Navy, the lieutenant was taking it on himself to make the arrest under military law. Same-day trial. Same-day judgment. Treason and “compassing to levy war against His Majesty” was his justification.
“Hang by the neck until dead unless…” Kenedy stopped and threw the handbill on the table.
Cinaed knew the rest of it, what was being offered. For the capture and delivery of Isabella Drummond, a reward of two thousand pounds, and Searc Mackintosh’s punishment would be commuted to transportation for life. Hudson was counting on a link between Searc and Isabella. As for Cinaed, he had no name and only his description was printed on the notice.
Since this morning, the news of the arrest had spread through Inverness like a spring flood tide. Kenedy had come immediately, while many of Searc’s other connections had sent messages, offering assistance. He was the dealmaker, unethical and mercenary, but he made the town click like a well-oiled clock. From his house in the Maggot, Searc played both sides of the political chessboardbetween Highlanders and English authorities. And he was the heart of Inverness. Everyone—merchants, shipowners, tradesman, and even the poor—relied on him for their survival.
Cinaed knew no one would have any difficulty identifying the woman on the notices. Too many of Searc’s friends had been introduced to Isabella at the reception and at the dinners that followed. No one wanted to lose Searc in this way; he was too valuable to the working of the city and the area… and the cause. But if he was already lost to them, and many believed that to be the truth, then two thousand pounds sterling in exchange for a Lowlands woman would be ample motivation for anyone.
Cinaed looked around the room and had no doubt these men knew the truth.
“Hudson cares nothing about Searc,” he said. “It’s Isabella he wants.”
“I’ll take her up into the mountains. To Dalmigavie,” Blair offered. “I swear to protect her with my life.”
Cinaed shook his head. “My wife’s escape will not end this. Hudson won’t hesitate to execute Searc when he feels he serves no further purpose.” He turned to others around him. “Hudson has been embarrassed by his failures here, by his loss of men and his loss of John Gordon. He needs to get his hands on Isabella. Right now, he’s a mad dog who’s chewed through his muzzle. So, before someone above him gets a grip on his leash, he’ll continue to overstep his authority. Today, he took Searc. Tomorrow, it’ll be you.” He motioned to Kenedy. “The next day, he’ll start to arrest you and you and you. And he’ll manufacture charges if he needs to.”
Men nodded one at a time.
“He won’t stop until he has this town by the throat. He’ll arrest and execute everyone who came out to those fields. Speakers, protesters, and bystanders—one by one until every one of us is hanging by the neck in the parade grounds at Fort George.”
These men were older than Cinaed. Some of them had to know the stories handed down of what happened in Inverness after Bonnie Prince Charlie and the Jacobite forces were defeated in the fields of Culloden a few miles away.
“Were you never told the story of William Rose? Just a few hundred yards from here, twelve wounded men were carried out of his house and shot in a hollow.”
He paused, waited for acknowledgment from the others.
“Or the story of an elderly gentleman named MacLeod who was pursued by two dragoons to a hill near the cattle market. He went down on his knees and begged for his life, but the dogs shot him through the head.”
More nods.
“Or the poor fellow shot dead by a soldier at the door of a widow on Bridge Street?”
Someone else continued Cinaed’s story. “Aye, and then the fiends went and hacked off the arms of the bairns next door.”
Cinaed had grown up hearing tales of the atrocities done by the Duke of Cumberland’s troops after the battle. All in the name of the Crown. Those histories had remained banked fires within him and no doubt fueled the life he’d pursued.
“How many men in the town had their throats cut for no reason?” Kenedy asked.
“The treatment of prisoners kept in the bell tower of the High Church was monstrous,” Mr. Carmichael interjected quietly. “Few nightmares can compare.”
“My auld granddad told me they gave those men a handful of meal a day but no water to swallow it,” one of Searc’s men said.
