Lochlainneach

Over The Sea To Skye

Featured Gaelic and Pronunciations:

- Mo phiseag (moh fee-shahk) - my kitten

- Bean fhlúraichean (been hloor-ay-kehn) - Lady of the Flowers

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7 July, 1746

Lallybroch, The Highlands, Scotland

JAMIE POV

Jamie was in the midst of cutting up a deer he had shot with a bow for Jenny and her family when Ian came into the kitchens bearing interesting news. "There's been a spottin' of the prince," he told him. "Isle of Skye, the papers say a lass by the name of Flora MacDonald helped get him from South Uist te Skye."

"So he's evaded capture," Jamie surmised, not even looking at Ian.

"Aye, but Mistress MacDonald is bein' held in the Tower fer aidin' his escape," Ian told him. "But that isnae the most interestin' part. It's no' kent fer sure, but it is rumoured tha' a Fowlis of Barra aided in his escape te Skye."

"Is it now," Jamie said, not at all wanting to hear of anything reminding him of his wife.

"Aye, and a source says tha' the prince addressed her as 'Madame Fraser'," Ian told him, and Jamie slammed the cleaver into the counter, causing Ian to jump.

" Dinnae get my hopes up!" Jamie snapped at him. "It isnae her. It cannae be her."

"All right, I'm sorry," Ian told him. "I just thought-"

"Ye thought wrong," Jamie told him. "Tell Jenny I'll be goin' back. I'll be back in a month."

"Jamie, I didnae mean-" Ian tried to call after him, but Jamie wasn't listening. He stormed out of the kitchen so quickly that he caused the chickens in the yard to scatter with fright as soon as the door had been slammed open. It isnae her. It cannae be her. I saw her disappear with my own eyes.

It isnae her...

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20 June, 1746

Isle of Barra, Scotland

CATRÌONA POV

We were on the main island surrounding a grand bonfire on the top of a cliff that overlooked the sea. There were musicians, singers, dancers and the like, swirling in spirals all around the large flame. In my hands, I held a bouquet made from nine herbs and flowers that Liúsaidh, Beitiris and I had prepared in preparation for Midsummer, which was greatly celebrated on Barra, evidently. The entire clan came together for the celebrations, most of us holding a bouquet of these herbs. Mine in particular was a bouquet of St. John's Wort, yarrow, vervain, sage, elderflowers, rowan leaves, meadowsweet, wormwood and roses, bundled together by three ribbons - yellow for the sun, white for strength, and red for sacrifice. Also with me was a wreath made of the same flowers, which I was to toss into the rowan tree that stood on the hill to see 'how many years I would remain unmarried', according to Liúsaidh. I wasn't overly interested in this custom, but it seemed that all of the widows on Barra were doing it, so I figured I would as well.

"It is time te toss our bundles into the flames!" Liúsaidh announced when the music quieted down. She was dressed in all white, a crown of flowers and leaves resting on her head. "Think of all that ye wish te be gone, of what ye hope te come, and at the end of this chant, ye will toss yer bouquet into the flames! Are we ready?" A quiet lull, and then she spoke again, accompanied by several voices: