Previously...
You're not planning to eat all of that, are you?
No.
I'm going to let it go moldy.
I'm making penicillin,
or at least I'm going to try to.
The time has come for you to fulfill your oath.
Gather your men.
I want Murtagh Fitzgibbons and his insurgents
brought to justice.
Do not disappoint me, Colonel.
Roger.
If I call up a militia,
he'll be expected to fight.
He's not ready for that.
- Captain Roger MacKenzie. - Captain?
Where is Murtagh Fitzgibbons?
Ooh!
You executed a man without trial!
Josiah, the hunter.
Abscessed tonsils.
I can remove them.
If Claire does this for ye, lad,
you'll settle at the Ridge?
Do the hunting when I'm away?
Thank ye.
How d'ye ken what to look for?
That is a very good question...
just the sort of question you should be asking.
Well?
Well, what sort of teacher would I be
if I simply gave you all the answers?
Now, how do you think I know what to look for?
From an experiment?
From a book...
in Boston, perhaps?
They seem to have all sorts of
newfangled ideas and things there.
Yes, they do.
So?
So... the mold is gray or white,
ye said.
Or...
Light blue, sometimes green.
Aye, and we're trying to avoid
dark green and black.
Those are the harmful molds.
And the more food we have, the more likely we are
to find the kind of mold that's useful as medicine.
Very good.
And soon we'll start looking at it
under a microscope.
And what then?
Well, then... the real work begins.
Jamie and I had tried in the past and failed
to stop history from happening.
What I was doing now was different.
I was literally tempting fate,
willing events to happen, bringing the future forward.
Penicillin was one of those newfangled things
I hoped would have a place in the past,
and I was daring history to try and stop me.
Damn.
Deo gratias.
Jamie.
What are you thanking the Lord for?
For the sight of you, Sassenach.
- Oh. - Hmm.
You liked Lieutenant Knox.
I did.
Even though Ethan provoked him, I...
I didna think he'd act so vengefully, so recklessly.
You can't feel responsible for the choices others make.
You made yours by freeing those men,
and hopefully it'll make a difference.
That's what I fear.
It willna.
Those men told me they have an army now.
I saw it with my own eyes.
They're not afraid to face death.
Right now... Murtagh's safe,
and you're home.
I've missed you.
Everyone will be so happy to have you back.
I doubt our tenants would share your sentiments,
at least not those who swore an oath to me.
I, uh...
I must gather a militia,
as many men as I can muster,
return to Hillsborough with all due speed.
To fight?
I hope not.
Knox sent word, asked Tryon for reinforcements.
If I can gather enough men...
A show of force to prevent war.
Whatever happens with the Regulators,
there isn't anything written about it, as far as I know.
So it can't amount to much.
Well, the man Knox killed might disagree with the historians
about what it amounts to.
I'm coming with you.
Uh...
if there is a war with the Regulators...
Then you'll need a physician.
You know, Murtagh, Knox, Tryon,
they've all made their choices.
And I've made mine.
You need my help.
I always have.
And I always will.
Grand-pére!
Germain.
Yer friend Thomas is here.
Take this and share it wi' him.
- Dinna tell yer ma. - Oh.
I saw Ronnie at the still.
He said you were gathering the militia.
Aye.
I'm glad ye're here.
Perhaps ye could deliver a advertisement
to the printer in Woolam's Creek.
Let me fetch a pen and some paper.
Commencez.
"Colonel James Fraser,
"in command of a militia company
"for Rowan County,
"raised against the Regulators,
"to all good and able men
"between the age of 16 and 60.
"I'll be passing through the county
"commencing on the 21st of this month
"to recruit men."
- So soon? - Aye.
Have them print a dozen broadsheets.
We'll post them out to the settlements hereabouts.
I sent Roger Mac to tell the men o' the Ridge
we'll be leaving in a week.
Ye'll be back in time to join us.
We'll be taking yer whisky wi' us,
share it wi' the men who enlist.
It's the finest I've tasted since leaving Scotland.
I'm grateful, milord.
As am I. Go now.
And hurry home.
We'll gather more men along the way,
stop in Brownsville first.
- Aye, Colonel. - Aye, Colonel.
I'm hoping ye willna need use of it.
Milord.
A letter for you has arrived from...
Ah, I, uh... I ken who sent it.
Thank ye, lad.
Thank you, Mistress Bug.
And where's Mr. Trouble?
You behave yourself while we're away.
Have a safe journey.
Keep up your studies.
You may have to sew up a wound at some point.
So keep practicing your stitching.
Mm-hmm.
Remember?
Pig flesh is a good substitute for human tissue.
Exactly.
And I've left you some drawings
of penicillium mold.
So look in the microscope like I showed you.
- I will. - Hmm.
Bree, will you help Marsali with her reading?
Of course.
I'm going to miss you.
I'll write from Hillsborough
if it looks like we have to stay long.
Bye, Mama. Take care of yourself.
Reminds me of the time I was
saying good-bye to your father on the station platform
when I was going off to war.
Mama, this is not gonna be a war.
I love you.
I feel like Scarlett O'Hara,
all the men leaving the plantations.
You should be honored.
Jamie left you in charge of the place.
What does that even mean?
Welcome to my world, where no amount of studying
can prepare you for what's to come.
Well, I guess that applies to life in any time.
Oh, there we are.
There's that pioneering spirit we're looking for.
Push, lads! Push!
One, two, three.
Push!
Well done, lads.
Ronnie, take Evan and fetch more wood for the fire.
Looks to be a cold night.
Aye, Colonel.
There's, uh, something I must tell you, Sassenach.
I, uh... couldna tell ye at the wedding.
Then I left wi' Knox, and...
I wanted to be certain.
Stephen Bonnet is alive.
But the explosion at the jail...
Lord John told me that...
Bonnet's body wasna found among the rubble.
He made further inquiries...
Confirmed sightings of Bonnet in Wilmington.
He's smuggling again.
Bree doesn't know, does she?
No.
Well, that's one small blessing.
Aye, when I thought Black Jack dead,
it allowed me some peace.
Peace from contemplating revenge.
Half o' me hopes never to see that bastard Bonnet again.
We'll not have time for drills.
So we need to teach 'em to fight like Highlanders:
gather or scatter on our command.
Aye.
All quiet out there, Colonel.
Cold as charity, though.
Mm.
Fergus and Morton are guarding the cart
from bears and whatnot.
Coldest damn spring I can remember.
I can barely feel my bollocks.
Aye, I went for a pish, but I couldna find it.
Dinna put yer feet to the fire.
Scorch the soles o' your boots if ye're too close.
See?
Ah, it's better than setting yer hair on fire.
I dinna think my brother needs to worry too much about that.
Unlike Roger Mac, eh?
He as furry as a bear.
Aye, I'll go give Fergus and Morton
the fright of their lives.
What say you, Mac Dubh, eh? Heads or tails?
Oh. Ah, nae bother, lads.
I'll sleep warm no matter how I'm laid.
Ooh!
- Hmm? - That's what you think.
Stop! Thief!
Stop!
- No! - Come here.
No!
Caught him pilfering provisions.
- Josiah? - This is the hunter?
What are you doing here?
Fergus, can you get him a blanket?
Josiah... what's wrong?
Wait.
Didn't he have a scar on his right hand?
Yes, a thief's brand.
He is that.
Speak up, lad.
That's Keziah... my brother.
Look, lad,
there's a bargain between us.
Ye're my tenant.
Ye have my protection.
I have a right to the truth.
Kezzie and I are indentured to a man
who lives not far from here.
I ran away a year ago.
Wi'out your brother?
It isn't safe for him in the woods with me.
He can't hear nothing coming up on him.
I promised to come back for him
when I had a situation for myself,
which I have now, thanks to you.
So I went back for him last night.
We made camp in the woods, and when I woke up...
He has half starving when I got him, sir.
When he saw your provisions, I...
Ye're welcome to the food, lad.
Jo, more.
He'd like some more.
Of course.
Has he always been deaf?
Since we were five, Mistress.
Our master boxed his ears.
May I have a look? Will you ask him?
He can read your lips when you talk, Mistress.
And he knows words, only he's shy about using 'em.
May I have a look at your ears?
Why isn't he wearing any breeches?
He took 'em off in the barn where he slept.
The barn cat had her kittens on 'em.
When I got him last night,
he said he didn't want to wake 'em.
Ruptured eardrums.
Surprised they haven't healed.
Though I suspect that wasn't the only time
your master boxed your ears.
Aye, Mistress.
Have ye any other family, lad?
No.
We came across on a ship with our parents and our four sisters,
but all of them perished from illness at sea.
So I'm told.
We were but two.
Mistress said we kent only our Christian names.
That was the first Mistress Beardsley.
Beardsley's the name of the man who bought you.
Aye.
He's an Indian trader.
Ship's captain sold us for a term of 30 years.
30 years?
And that scar on your hand,
that have anything to do with your running away?
I stole a cheese in town and the dairymaid saw me.
Sheriff branded me as a warning,
but if Mr. Beardsley found out...
You won't send us back to him, will you, Colonel Fraser?
He beat us bad, starved us, as ye can see.
I willna send ye back.
But I'll need to purchase your indenture
so he has no claim on ye.
Is he home, d'ye ken, or away trading?
I canna say.
But I saw his horse in the barn when I got my brother.
Be careful, sir.
Captain.
Take these lads and the rest of the company
and continue to Brownsville.
Fill that muster book of yers with as many men as ye can.
Ye ken what's at stake here.
I do.
I won't let you down.
Claire and I will go see this Mr. Beardsley.
I wonder how the dairymaid could be certain it was Josiah
who stole that cheese.
You think it was Kezzie but Josiah took the blame?
And the punishment. Aye, mebbe.
He's a brave lad.
Ye must cut that brand off of him, Sassenach.
There are thieftakers in these parts.
Will ye do it like ye did for me?
Of course.
Ah, if we're to buy his indenture,
we must ensure he's truly free of his past.
Ah, we're here.
Ho! The house!
Whoa.
You think they've gone looking for the boy?
Someone's home.
I'll check the barn.
Go away.
Good morning to you, Mistress.
I'm Colonel James Fraser of Fraser's Ridge.
I must speak with your husband.
Husband's dead.
I'm sorry to hear that.
I must speak with ye, then.
I've found myself in possession of yer two bond servants,
and I would like to purchase their indentures.
- I'm certain we can arrange... - Keep 'em. I got no use for 'em
Was that him?
Beardsley's dead.
I spoke with his wife.
She told me to keep the lads, free of charge.
Well, that's good, isn't it?
I need their papers.
If we dinna have their indentures,
she could change her mind.
Oh, there's something very strange about this place, Jamie.
We should go.
I'll be quick.
I need those papers.
I don't know where Mr. Beardsley would have kept their papers.
What about in that... that desk there?
Why do you keep the goats indoors?
It's too cold for 'em in the barn.
Too cold for the goats but not for the bond servant?
You want them papers or not?
Ay.
Aye, we do.
Christ.
What was that?
Mrs. Beardsley.
Shoo! Out! Come on, out.
Tch. Shoo.
Shoo, shoo.
Stay away from there.
That's just Billy.
We keep him in there so he doesn't rut
with the others.
Oh, God damn it.
No, stay here. Keep looking.
Go! Tch! Tch! Out! Out!
Maybe he lost the papers.
That smell...
It isn't goat.
I don't smell nothing.
Your husband... when did he die?
A few months ago.
What's upstairs?
Don't go up there!
Sassenach?
Jamie!
Sassenach!
I think we found Mr. Beardsley.
What's wrong with him?
If I had to guess, I would say
he suffered a stroke,
an apoplexy, you'd call it.
He's lying in his own filth.
Aye.
Here, hold this.
Shh. It's all right.
Don't try to talk.
We're here to help you.
He's been lying here for weeks, if not months.
God's judgment, do ye think?
Not entirely God's. Look.
She's been feeding him just enough to keep him alive.
In misery.
Is there aught ye can do for him?
For the apoplexy, no.
But to do a proper assessment,
I need better light.
You said he was dead.
How did this happen?
He chased me,
struck me.
He was in a rage as ever, of course.
- When? - A month ago.
Come up here to get away from him.
He followed me, and then he fell
and lay writhing.
I couldn't move him.
Go prepare some hot water.
We're bringing him down.
Governor Tryon's orders:
all able-bodied men are asked to join
His Excellency's militia.
Poor men must bleed for rich man's gold
and always will, eh?
Their father has gone to his reward in heaven, or he'd join ye.
My condolences, Mistress Findlay.
Is there a reward for my sons?
40 shillings each from the governor's treasury
and two shillings a day for as long as they serve.
And if they dinna come out of it?
I'll make sure they come home.
Is that so?
Well, then, Captain MacKenzie,
I'll take yer word for it that if I lend you my sons,
ye'll send them home safe.
So far as it lies in my power.
Sign the book, lads.
Yes, Ma.
- Name? - Hugh Findlay.
Iain Og Findlay.
He's covered in bedsores.
His muscles have wasted away.
At least the maggots have kept his wounds clean.
The man was trading goods.
There are barrels of food and bundles of furs out there.
Yet he lay where he fell,
cold, starving.
Why'd she no' simply let him die?
So she could do this.
Can he be healed?
Should ye not be looking for the indenture papers?
She tried to bleed him to heal him?
No. Look at his feet.
She burns them over and over,
lets them heal, and then does it again.
She was torturing him.
I think he understands you, Sassenach.
Can ye, man?
Did yer wife do this to ye?
Blink once for yes.
What you must have done to deserve this.
His right foot's gangrenous.
I'll have to amputate soon, or it'll spread and he'll die.
I need a saw and something to sterilize it with.
I can cauterize the wound and then...
We dinna have time, Claire, to do the surgery
and give him time to heal.
I must rejoin the company and go on to Hillsborough.
I know, but I can't leave him like this.
If I can find a way to make him comfortable enough,
then we can bring him with us to Brownsville
and find someone there to look after him.
Then perhaps...
No!
No. Fanny.
No.
She would have saved him. He should die! I want him to die!
Ye could ha' killed him at yer leisure!
Why in God's name would ye wait
- until ye had witnesses? - I didn't want him dead.
I wanted him to die slowly!
You filthy beast!
You dirty, wicked...
I'm his wife. Let him rot!
The babe.
Ugh.
Big push, come on.
That's it.
Here. Okay, one more.
Come on.
Oh!
There we go, little girl.
Here.
Well done.
Jamie.
Ah.
All right.
Now, the afterbirth.
Small push more, all right?
Come on!
That's it.
Well done.
Claire.
Heh.
The baby's skin.
Huh.
It would appear
the baby father's is black.
Let me see her.
You have a beautiful baby girl.
She isn't his.
You hear that, you old bastard?
She isn't yours.
She isn't yours!
Oh, she isn't his.
Do you have any family nearby?
He took me from my fathers house in Baltimoe
to this place.
I miss Baltimore.
How long ago was that?
Two years... three months, and five days.
Those are your markings on the door.
No.
That was Mary Ann, I believe.
That was his first wife?
No.
Mary Ann was his fourth.
You're his fifth?
The others are buried in the woods under the rowan tree.
I see their ghosts sometimes,
especially Mary Ann.
She tells me things.
He killed them all, you know.
He would have killed me too.
None of us could give him a baby.
Who is the father, if you don't mind me asking?
A good man.
Does he live nearby?
He beat us terrible,
me and those boys, all three of us.
If I c-if I could find their papers,
I'd give 'em to you.
They deserve some happiness, I suppose.
So should you
and your baby.
Even though she's born of her mother's sin?
Yes.
Hopefully she was born out of love.
She'll need more than love to get by in this world.
You have the property...
this home.
This place is her birthright, but...
but to me, it's naught but ugliness and evil.
We will take your husband with us to town.
He can't harm you anymore.
You're a mother now.
Having a baby... doesn't make me a mother
any more than sleeping in a stable makes someone a horse.
Maybe when you name her...
I'm so sorry.
I forgot to ask you your name.
It's Frances.
My mother used to call me Fanny.
It's supposed to mean "free."
And your name is... Sassenach.
Only to my husband.
You can call me Claire.
Shh.
How long will ye have to stay here?
A day or two at the least.
We'll need to find someone to look in on them.
I know you're anxious to get going.
What will we do about him?
Oh, I don't know.
As a doctor, I can't walk away, but...
I'm not sure you owe him anything.
Well, they are our neighbors.
What kind of world is this to bring a baby into?
The only world.
No, it isn't.
Jamie... I want Brianna and Roger
to go back to their own time
as soon as they know if Jemmy can travel.
It's safer for them there,
for Jemmy especially.
Roger feels the same way.
He wants to take them home.
Of course he does.
Your penicillin will make it safer for them here, will it not?
Only from infection.
Well, perhaps it would be safer in your time.
But they would be without their family,
without their blood.
Come...
Put these thoughts away.
Sleep.
What is it?
Fanny?
- The baby? - Still here.
Where could she have gone?
I'll look outside.
Oh, shh.
Her horse is gone.
Mebbe she's gone to find help.
She's not coming back.
She left these with the baby.
The deed.
And indenture papers.
She means for us to keep her.
We'll have goat's milk for the journey.
Hopefully there'll be a nursing mother
in Brownsville.
And we'll seek Mrs. Beardsley as we travel.
We won't find her.
What do we do about him?
Take the bairn outside.
Dinna come back until I call for ye.
- Jamie... - I would do it for a dog, Claire.
Could I do less for him?
Go.
Let it be his choice, his will.
If or if not, I will call for ye.
Blink once for yes, twice for no.
Do ye understand?
Yer wife is gone.
Ye ken the child isna yers.
My wife is a healer,
says you suffered an apoplexy,
canna be cured of it.
Your foot is putrid.
If it's not taken off, ye'll rot and die.
D'ye understand?
Would ye have her take your foot and tend to your wounds?
Do you ask me to take yer life?
By all accounts, you are a wicked man.
I have no wish to send a soul to hell.
Will ye pray for forgiveness?
Then may God forgive us both.
I thought apoplexy killed a man outright.
Never thought to ask Jenny if my father suffered.
She would have told you.
Perhaps.
She would have.
Swear to me, Claire...
if it should one day fall to my lot
as it did to my father...
swear to me that ye will give me
the same mercy that I gave that wretch.
I'll do what must be done.
*CREDITS*