Luceo Non Uro || Outlander

Chapter 17

Fergus

Something was very wrong in Brownsville. At first glance, it appeared abandoned, but the smoking fire pits and fresh food laying out unattended, obviously for the weekly market, betrayed the presence of Brownsville's residents hiding nearby.

"Roger, wait, this is not right," I whispered, not wanting to be overheard by whatever demons lurked among the shadows. I had not yet encountered the two Brown brothers, but the reputation they had developed in these mountains was fearful.

He dismounted his horse, ignoring my warning. I had no choice but to follow. "Hallo the house!" he shouted. Why would he do that? My blood ran cold when I heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked and loaded. My eyes caught the movement of a gun barrel peeking out from under a doorway.

"Attendez," I warned Roger again, seeing what he would do.

"I'm Captain Roger Mackenzie in command of a militia serving under Colonel Jame Fraser of Fraser's Ridge." I scanned the darkened house and caught signs of more movement. I could not count how many men I saw through the grimy windows.

A gruff voice called out, "We saw you up the road, Morton, you bastard!" Isaiah shifted nervously. Guilt was written plainly across his face. "You'll pay for what you did!" 

A shot rang out. Roger stood frozen in the open, like an idiot. I put a hand over his neck and pushed him into a low crouch. "This way," I led him to the cover of some crates on the other side of the road. Our men exchanged volleys with the posse holed up in the building. Isaiah was nowhere to be seen.

"What do you want with Morton?" Roger called out.

"None of your concern. Hand him over." The man's voice was as a sharp as steel. There would be no negotiating with him.

More shots rang out. My heart was pounding in my chest. I had not come so far from my humble beginnings to die in the muds of some backwoods settlement for the sake of Isaiah Morton. I no longer regretted punching him in the face. He deserved that busted lip.

I scrambled over the crate when I heard a frantic woman's voice ring out, "I'm sorry, Isaiah, I had to tell." My throat tightened when I saw she was no more than a girl.

The bastard finally reared his ugly head to look at the unfortunate girl who somehow found herself at the center of this mess. "I couldn't marry Elijah Ford. Please, Isaiah, say you'll do right by me." The girl was sobbing. Only in Brownsville would there be a shootout over a love affair. I looked at Roger Mac, hoping he would do something to defuse the situation.

"Alicia!" a shrill woman's voice yelled the girl's name. I heard a slap land across her face, like the snap of a whip. The girl's screams made a knot form in my stomach. The situation was quickly devolving into chaos. Gunshots continued to ring overhead, sending splinters of wood raining down on the company of men under Roger's care. Do something.  

"I guess we'd better do what they ask."

"What, turn Morton over to them?" It was not quite what I had in mind.

"Aye. We're gonna need some of that whisky, Fergus."

"Are you sure?"

"Aye, and get a full bottle please." I breathed in deeply, trying to remain calm. I thought of Marsali at home with the babies. If I did not come home to them...

"Stand down!"

Roger stood and placed his gun where the Browns could see it. 

"I propose a truce, so we may discuss this matter like gentlemen." I scoffed, these men were no gentlemen. But the ceasefire lasted long enough for everyone to pile into the tavern while I pulled a cask of whisky from the cart.