THE SCOTTISH PRISONER – description:
Now, if you don’t want to know _anything_ about this book before reading it–stop right here. {g} This is the original catalog-copy for THE SCOTTISH PRISONER; the general description of the book that I wrote for use by editors (who write the flap-copy and back-cover copy), agents (who write descriptions for their own catalogs for use at international book-fairs), and publishers (who write brief descriptions of new books for the catalogs their sales reps use when describing new books to their accounts). This is the basic description of the book, on which all those things are based. So, for those of you who want to know just what SCOTTISH PRISONER is…read on!
There are only two compensations to Jamie Fraser’s life as a paroled Jacobite prisoner-of-war in the remote Lake District: he’s not cutting sugar cane in the West Indies, and he has access to William, his illegitimate (and very secret) son, otherwise known as the ninth Earl of Ellesmere. His quiet life comes suddenly apart with the appearance of Tobias Quinn, an Irishman and an erstwhile comrade from the Rising.
Some Jacobites were killed; others, like Jamie, imprisoned or transported. Others escaped. And many of them didn’t give up. Quinn still burns with passion for the Stuart Cause, and he has a Plan. A singularly dangerous plan, involving Jamie Fraser and an ancient relic of Irish kingship—the sacred cup of the Druid King.
Jamie has had enough of politics, enough of war—and more than enough of the Stuarts. He’s having none of it.
*********
In London, Lord John Grey has brought home from Quebec a packet of papers that might as well have come equipped with a fuse, so explosive are their contents. Material collected by a recently deceased friend, the papers document a damning case of corruption and murder against a British officer, Major Gerald Siverly. For the sake of his friend, and his own honor as a soldier, John is determined to bring Siverly to justice.
John’s brother Hal, the Duke of Pardloe, takes this cause as his own, and enlists the help of his wife, Minnie, a retired spy in her own right. The Greys show Minnie a mysterious document from the dangerous docket—what appear to be verses, written in a language they don’t recognize. Minnie does recognize the language. It’s Erse, she tells the brothers. The language spoken by Irishmen and Scottish Highlanders.
Erse. The word gave Grey a very odd sensation. Erse was what folk spoke in the Scottish Highlands. It sounded like no other language he’d ever heard—and barbarous as it was, he was surprised to learn that it existed in a written form.
Hal was looking at him speculatively.
“You must have heard it fairly often, at Ardsmuir?”
“Heard it, yes. Almost all the prisoners spoke it.” Grey had been governor of Ardsmuir prison for a brief period; as much exile as appointment, in the wake of a near-scandal. He disliked thinking about that period of his life, for assorted reasons.
“Did Fraser speak it?”
Oh, God, Grey thought. Not that. Anything but that.
“Yes,” he said, though. He had now and then overheard James Fraser speaking in his native tongue to the other prisoners, the words mysterious and flowing.
“When did you see him last?”
“Not since last spring.” Grey spoke briefly, his voice careful.
Not careful enough; Hal came round in front of him, examining him at close range, as though he might be an unusual sort of Chinese jug.
“He is at Helwater, is he not? Will you go and ask him about Siverly?” Hal said mildly.
“No.”
“No?”
“I would not piss on him, was he burning in the flames of hell,” Grey said politely.
One of Hal’s brows flicked upward, but only momentarily.
“Just so,” he said dryly. “The question, though, is whether Fraser might be inclined to perform a similar service for you.”
Grey placed his cup carefully in the center of the desk.
“Only if he thought I might drown,” he said, and went out.
But needs must when the devil drives—and Lord John and Jamie are shortly unwilling companions on the road to Ireland, a country whose dark castles hold dreadful secrets, and whose bogs hide the bones of the dead.
Now, if you don’t want to know _anything_ about this book before reading it–stop right here. {g} This is the original catalog-copy for THE SCOTTISH PRISONER; the general description of the book that I wrote for use by editors (who write the flap-copy and back-cover copy), agents (who write descriptions for their own catalogs for use at international book-fairs), and publishers (who write brief descriptions of new books for the catalogs their sales reps use when describing new books to their accounts). This is the basic description of the book, on which all those things are based. So, for those of you who want to know just what SCOTTISH PRISONER is…read on!
There are only two compensations to Jamie Fraser’s life as a paroled Jacobite prisoner-of-war in the remote Lake District: he’s not cutting sugar cane in the West Indies, and he has access to William, his illegitimate (and very secret) son, otherwise known as the ninth Earl of Ellesmere. His quiet life comes suddenly apart with the appearance of Tobias Quinn, an Irishman and an erstwhile comrade from the Rising.
Some Jacobites were killed; others, like Jamie, imprisoned or transported. Others escaped. And many of them didn’t give up. Quinn still burns with passion for the Stuart Cause, and he has a Plan. A singularly dangerous plan, involving Jamie Fraser and an ancient relic of Irish kingship—the sacred cup of the Druid King.
Jamie has had enough of politics, enough of war—and more than enough of the Stuarts. He’s having none of it.
*********
In London, Lord John Grey has brought home from Quebec a packet of papers that might as well have come equipped with a fuse, so explosive are their contents. Material collected by a recently deceased friend, the papers document a damning case of corruption and murder against a British officer, Major Gerald Siverly. For the sake of his friend, and his own honor as a soldier, John is determined to bring Siverly to justice.
John’s brother Hal, the Duke of Pardloe, takes this cause as his own, and enlists the help of his wife, Minnie, a retired spy in her own right. The Greys show Minnie a mysterious document from the dangerous docket—what appear to be verses, written in a language they don’t recognize. Minnie does recognize the language. It’s Erse, she tells the brothers. The language spoken by Irishmen and Scottish Highlanders.
Erse. The word gave Grey a very odd sensation. Erse was what folk spoke in the Scottish Highlands. It sounded like no other language he’d ever heard—and barbarous as it was, he was surprised to learn that it existed in a written form.
Hal was looking at him speculatively.
“You must have heard it fairly often, at Ardsmuir?”
“Heard it, yes. Almost all the prisoners spoke it.” Grey had been governor of Ardsmuir prison for a brief period; as much exile as appointment, in the wake of a near-scandal. He disliked thinking about that period of his life, for assorted reasons.
“Did Fraser speak it?”
Oh, God, Grey thought. Not that. Anything but that.
“Yes,” he said, though. He had now and then overheard James Fraser speaking in his native tongue to the other prisoners, the words mysterious and flowing.
“When did you see him last?”
“Not since last spring.” Grey spoke briefly, his voice careful.
Not careful enough; Hal came round in front of him, examining him at close range, as though he might be an unusual sort of Chinese jug.
“He is at Helwater, is he not? Will you go and ask him about Siverly?” Hal said mildly.
“No.”
“No?”
“I would not piss on him, was he burning in the flames of hell,” Grey said politely.
One of Hal’s brows flicked upward, but only momentarily.
“Just so,” he said dryly. “The question, though, is whether Fraser might be inclined to perform a similar service for you.”
Grey placed his cup carefully in the center of the desk.
“Only if he thought I might drown,” he said, and went out.
But needs must when the devil drives—and Lord John and Jamie are shortly unwilling companions on the road to Ireland, a country whose dark castles hold dreadful secrets, and whose bogs hide the bones of the dead.
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