Free The Fiery Cross by Diana Gabaldon

man come to be here?”
    “Eh?” Robbie looked blank.
    “You’re no camped nearby?” Jamie waved a hand briefly at the tiny clearing, making his meaning clear. There was no trace of hearthfire; in fact, no one had camped on this side of the creek. And yet all the McGillivrays were here.
    “Oh, no,” Robbie said, comprehension blossoming on his spare features. “Nay, we’re camped some distance up. Only, we came to have a wee keek at the heavies”—he jerked his head toward the competition field—“and the friggin’ vulture spied our Freddie and took hold of him, so as to drag him off.” He cast an unfriendly look at the thief-taker, and I saw that a coil of rope dangled snakelike from the man’s belt. A pair of iron manacles lay on the ground nearby, the dark metal already laced with orange rust from the damp.
    “We saw him grab aholt of Brother,” Hilda put in at this point. “So we grabbed aholt of
him
and pushed him through here, where nobody could see. When he said he meant to take Brother away to the sheriff, me and my sisters knocked him down and sat on him, and Mama kicked him a few times.”
    Ute patted her daughter fondly on one sturdy shoulder.
    “They are
gut
, strong
Mädchen
,
meine
lasses,” she told Jamie. “Ve
komm
see
hier die Wettkämpfer
, maybe choose husband for Inga or Senga. Hilda
hat einen Mann
already promised,” she added, with an air of satisfaction.
    She looked Jamie over frankly, her eye dwelling approvingly on his height, the breadth of his shoulders, and the general prosperity of his appearance.
    “He is fine, big, your
Mann
,” she said to me. “You haf sons, maybe?”
    “No, I’m afraid not,” I said apologetically. “Er . . . Fergus is married to my husband’s daughter,” I added, seeing her gaze shift appraisingly to Fergus.
    The thief-taker appeared to feel that the subject was drifting somewhat afield, and summoned attention back to himself with an indignant squeal behind his gag. His face, which had gone pale at the discussion of his theoretical demise, had grown quite red again, and his hair was matted down across his forehead in spikes.
    “Oh, aye,” Jamie said, noticing. “Perhaps we should let the gentleman have a word?”
    Robbie narrowed his eyes at this, but reluctantly nodded. The competitions had got well under way by now, and there was a considerable racket emanating from the field; no one would notice the odd shout over here.
    “Don’t let ’em kill me, sir! You know it ain’t right!” Hoarse from his ordeal, the man fixed his appeal on Jamie as soon as the gag was removed. “I’m only doin’ as I ought, delivering a criminal to justice!”
    “Ha!” all the McGillivrays said at once. Unanimous as their sentiment appeared to be, the expression of it immediately disintegrated into a confusion of expletives, opinions, and a random volley of kicks aimed at the gentleman’s shins by Inga and Senga.
    “Stop that!” Jamie said, raising his voice enough to be heard over the uproar. As this had no result, he grabbed McGillivray Junior by the scruff of the neck and roared,
“Ruhe!”
at the top of his lungs, which startled them into momentary silence, with guilty looks over their shoulders in the direction of the competition field.
    “Now, then,” Jamie said firmly. “Myers, bring the gentleman, if ye will. Rob, Fergus, come along with ye.
Bitte
, Madame?” He bowed to Mrs. McGillivray, who blinked at him, but then nodded in slow acquiescence. Jamie rolled an eye at me, then, still holding Manfred by the neck, he marched the male contingent off toward the creek, leaving me in charge of the ladies.
    “Your
Mann
—he will save my son?” Ute turned to me, fair brows knitted in concern.
    “He’ll try.” I glanced at the girls, who were huddled together behind their mother. “Do you know whether your brother
was
at Hillsborough?”
    The girls looked at one another, and silently elected Inga to speak.
    “Well,
ja
, he was, then,”