Original subtitles

Previously...

May I introduce Alexander Randall,

the younger brother of Captain Jonathan Randall.

Well, didn't I see you talking to Mary Hawkins earlier?

You know her? Enchanting girl.

You are unwell, Alex.

It's not the future that Mary has envisioned for herself.

You should set aside your feelings.

Mary Hawkins and Jonathan Randall

were to have a child together.

Alex and Mary simply could not be for Frank's sake.

If we do not send men to fight,

this rebellion will melt away.

Dougal. Colum change his mind then?

Colum's mind is his own. It's no concern of mine.

We sail from France to fight a war.

Let us fight.

Turns out you were right about Prestonpans.

That means I'm also right about the disaster

awaiting us at Culloden.

My Laird, is it true? Are we turning back?

Aye, we're going back across the border.

Home.

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_

- Aye, aye. - Yeah.

Where are we?

Just outside Inverness.

Is that good?

We can rest here at least.

Very well. You look as if you need to sleep.

Adam! Smiths!

It was hard to believe that these were the same

brave Highland warriors who had beaten the British army

at Prestonpans and Falkirk,

who had marched triumphantly into England.

Five months of retreat with not enough food and brutal weather

had left them broken and demoralized.

Our worst nightmare was coming true,

and I felt completely helpless in the face of it.

Hey, take yer filthy hands off me.

Say this for ye, Rupert,

losing an eye hasna improved yer disposition any.

Well, what good is a rebellion that runs from a fight?

Ken what poor Angus would say?

The same as poor Kincaid, I expect.

"It's time we turned... showed them our faces."

Eh.

Dougal...

I ken yer men crave sleep,

but I need you to take a patrol out,

locate the enemy.

Find out how close behind us they are.

The horses'll need feeding afore we set out.

Aye. Take whatever we have left,

but find the British army for us.

See that there's food here when we return.

The men's strength is dwindling on a bannock a day.

Murtagh, Lord George will be

calling a war council shortly.

I need ye to ride to Inverness, fetch the prince.

Ye'll find him at Thunderton House, Batchen Lane.

A war council, eh?

I think we three ken where that will lead.

Culloden Moor lies but a few miles east of here.

16th of April, ye said.

That's when history records the battle.

Three days from now.

All that work,

all that plotting,

how the bloody hell did we end up here?

As ye say, Sassenach,

it wasna from lack of trying.

But dinna wave the white flag just yet.

There's still time to avoid the fight we canna win,

if I can make Charles see reason.

I must see to the welfare of the men.

Hopefully there's something to eat in this Godforsaken place.

I'll need to go into Inverness,

see if I can replenish my medical supplies.

I won't be long.

Ginger, chamomile, and arsenic.

Will there be anything else, Miss?

A bottle of laudanum.

That's the second bottle this week, Miss.

It's a very strong medicine.

A bottle of laudanum. Please.

Mary?

Claire.

What on earth are you doing here?

I assume you've come with the Jacobite army.

Everyone seems to think there'll be fighting soon.

Yes, that may be true.

But why are you here?

We sent you home after what happened with the duke.

Yes.

And then Alex contacted me.

You heard me correctly,

I am here with Alex Randall.

He got a position assisting the overseer

of a large English estate near Inverness.

And I decided to join him.

Alex and I are to be married.

That's wonderful.

Is it?

You pretended to be my friend.

I am your friend.

Alex told me how you convinced him

that leaving me in Paris was in my best interest.

He was in very poor health.

And he had no prospects for employment; I...

Here's your laudanum, Miss.

Thank you.

Mary.

I'm sorry...

for any pain that I caused you or Alex.

I shouldn't have interfered.

The situation, it was...

it was complicated.

Is Alex all right?

He's going to be fine.

I'm taking care of him now.

Our landlady has a sickly child,

and she's been advising me on proper medicines.

I see.

Perhaps I could stop by?

To see Alex and to apologize.

If you wish.

We've taken a room at McGilvrey's boarding house.

Gentlemen, I have studied our situation carefully,

and our choice is clear:

the best spot to join battle with the enemy

is mere miles from where we now stand.

Culloden Moor.

- Are we agreed? - Aye.

That is the perfect spot...

for the British.

With that, I do agree.

Culloden Moor is flat, plain ground, sir.

Without sufficient cavalry and artillery,

our lines will be smashed to pieces

before our troops can even engage the enemy.

Aye, Clan Fraser, perhaps.

But the MacDonalds will get the job done.

Aye, and the Camerons.

With all due respect,

why fight at all?

I implore you, Your Royal Highness,

walk the camp.

See for yourself

the poor state of your army.

The men are too exhausted to fight a major battle.

I refuse to listen to any more of this coward's talk!

Enough.

There is still the matter of the French gold.

A large shipment, you may recall,

supposedly sailed from the continent.

With such funds, we can secure food and weapons.

While we wait for its arrival,

we split the army into smaller units,

making it more difficult for the British to follow.

Then, when our men are well rested

and have the supplies they need,

we choose the better ground

to fight upon

and defeat our enemy once and for all.

James...

you are my most loyal companion and friend.

But I am not some frightened hare

to be run down by a pack of British hounds.

I am a man.

And I am a soldier.

And I shall comport myself as one.

I'm weary of retreat.

The men will rest,

and then we shall march to Culloden.

Gentlemen,

God will provide for us.

We do His bidding.

May He have mercy on us all.

I've dissolved some more arsenic in this tea.

Mary, arsenic will bring color to his cheeks,

but it won't help his cough.

Madame Fraser.

How good it is to see you.

And you, Alex.

Save your breath.

She's right.

I'll prepare a poultice

to ease the muscles on your chest and back.

Johnny.

You remember Madame Fraser.

You said nothing about another visit

in your last letter.

And where is your uniform?

I was granted leave to see you.

I didn't want to attract attention.

So good to see you, Johnny.

You're not leaving, are you?

I don't know what would have become of us without John.

What do you mean?

Alex has been unable to work for weeks.

We would be completely destitute

if it wasn't for John paying our bills.

When do you think he'll be able to get back to work again?

Mary...

I think you need to start

making reparations with your family

so you have somewhere to go when Alex...

When Alex what?

He won't be going back to work.

He can't be cured. I'm sorry.

Bu... but he must be cured.

Oh, God, Mary,

are you pregnant?

Does Alex know?

Yes.

- And John. - Mary.

Alex is asking for you.

Madame Fraser.

Claire.

Do not take your animus for me out on my brother.

Alex has not drawn an easy breath in weeks.

His youth and vigor are drowning in blood and phlegm.

Cure him.

As I've explained to Mary,

I cannot help him.

What are you saying?

Alex can't be cured.

But you can ease his pain.

I do not ask for myself.

I ask for my brother and Mary

and their unborn child.

If I am to attend your brother,

then I want something in exchange.

You will tell me where Cumberland's army is.

My.

You would barter over an innocent man's suffering?

Madame Fraser, you impress me.

The woman I am now is not the woman I once was,

Captain Randall.

Hmm.

We'll never rid ourselves of that man.

But perhaps this time, his presence in our life

- will be good for us. - Nairn.

Are you sure that's what Randall said?

That Cumberland's army is encamped at Nairn?

Yes.

That's only 12 miles from here.

And he said that two nights from now,

there'll be a celebration for Cumberland's birthday there.

Well, that's very interesting information indeed, Sassenach,

if it's true.

I actually believe him.

Normally, I wouldn't, but he seemed desperate.

And we could confirm it, couldn't we?

Aye.

Aye.

I want to go back and tend to Alex.

I know it's a small act

in light of everything we're facing here,

but I believe I owe Mary that much.

And what if Alex dies in your care?

Huh?

What's to stop that evil bastard brother of his

sending you into the next world after him?

Murtagh could go with me.

Here, on yer feet, ye lazy swine.

What?

Would ye be so kind as to tell me

what the MacKenzie's doing here?

If I knew, I would.

It's good to see some familiar faces.

I was sorry to hear about Angus' death.

I always thought when that wee bastard fell,

that you would fall with him.

So did I.

Well, how long am I to stand here

on these rickety sticks of mine?

Find me a bed to rest on.

Bring me my brother and my nephew.

Ye're wasting yer time

with all this prodding and poking.

The healer who took your place at Leoch,

he's been looking more and more dour these past few weeks.

With good reason, I'm afraid.

I've been dying for years.

It's a wearisome process.

I welcome its conclusion.

Is that why ye travelled all this way,

in yer weakened condition?

To hurry your death along?

It would appear my brother still gets satisfaction

from keeping me waiting.

Dougal isna in camp at present.

He's leading a scout.

I always said ye were a smart lad.

Give my brother enough authority

to keep him content,

but not enough to allow him

to grab for more.

It's as if ye read my mind.

While we await his return,

I shall speak with Claire in private.

I'll be close by,

if needed.

Here.

My good lad.

I commend ye on such an admirable marriage, Claire.

I remember a time when you found our union less agreeable.

I was wrong.

That's one of the pleasures of dying.

I can finally admit my mistakes.

It also makes it easier

to ask for favors.

And I need one from you, Claire.

My pain,

it grows more tedious by the day.

I'm sorry.

I'll get you some laudanum.

Laudanum, no, no.

Laudanum just dulls the senses.

I would prefer something more final.

Isn't suicide a sin?

What's one more sin to a sinner?

Geillis Duncan gave her husband a quick death.

I would welcome the same.

It may have been quick,

but death by cyanide poisoning

is an agonizing way to end one's life.

I leave the details to you.

I trust that you will give me a kinder death

than that bitch gave poor Arthur.

Do not speak ill of my friend Geillis.

Memories...

they remain raw even longer than wounds.

But I have a piece of news to ease yer mind.

Geillis' bairn lives.

How?

Geillis wasn't burned until after the bairn was born.

A boy.

Where is he now?

He's with William MacKenzie and Sarah.

They have no children of their own.

Does Dougal know?

I've never heard him mention the child.

The boy is but one more mistake

my brother has to live with.

This is yellow jasmine.

It will be like drifting off into a deep sleep.

For when you're ready.

For what it's worth,

y-you have my deepest gratitude.

Breathe. Shh.

- Shh. - What are you doing?

Mary, light a taper.

Shh, shh, shh, shh.

Alex.

He can't smoke that.

It's a mixture of coltsfoot and thornapple.

- It will help open his airway. - He can barely breathe.

This will help him breathe.

Trust me. I know what I'm doing.

- Mary, I need you to hold this. - No. No, no.

Please.

Hold this up to his face.

Cover both his nose and his mouth.

That's it.

Okay, breathe it in. Breathe it in.

Breathe deeply.

That's it. One more time.

Slowly, Alex.

Shh.

- Inhale. - Breathe it deeply.

- Okay, one more. - Deep and slow, shh.

Deep and slow.

That's it.

Shh.

It's all right.

Mary.

You're okay.

Here you go.

There.

There, there.

Madame Fraser.

It's all right.

He's in pain.

Yes, I know.

Perhaps a bit more arsenic.

No more arsenic.

It won't do any good.

Laudanum if he needs to sleep.

But there's nothing more I can do.

I'm sorry.

Sorry? We had an agreement.

You said you would help him.

I am helping to ease his pain,

but I can't cure him.

If ye need to vent yer frustration,

then I'll happily oblige ye.

Stop it, both of you.

Johnny.

Johnny.

Alex, what is it?

I must ask you to do something for me,

for us.

Anything.

Know that I do not ask this lightly,

but for the sake of your love for me...

Shh.

Alex, I won't let Mary or the child want for anything.

You know that.

Thank you.

I've sent for the minister.

The minister?

No, no, the last rites,

not just yet.

For your wedding.

My wedding?

You and Mary, dear brother.

I need you to look after her, Johnny.

We want...

our child to have the Randall name.

Alex, you can do that by marrying her yourself.

Of course, I will see that she is taken care of.

As her... her husband,

you can give Mary and our child

some position in the world,

so much more than I could.

I commend the well being

of those most precious to me...

to the one I have loved the longest.

You think I am unaware of the density of the dark wall

you have built to protect your better self

from the world?

But I have borne witness to your tenderness.

I've been the beneficiary of your generous soul.

That inner man is the one

whom I entrust my love...

and my child.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

Captain Randall.

Where the hell are ye going?

Claire, please!

Go after him. I need to speak with him.

Please.

Coming.

Hold it up to his face again.

One more time, breathe.

Dougal, what news?

The British are camped at Nairn.

- So I've been told. - Oh, have ye?

I wish ye could have been told

before I did all that hard riding.

I understand the British are planning to throw a party

in celebration of Cumberland's 25th birthday.

Well, we saw no such preparations.

Where did ye get the information?

Given to Claire by a British officer.

Jonathan Wolverton Randall.

Black Jack Randall?

Well, there's a tale behind that meeting, to be sure.

And we're not giving that bastard's word credence?

No, not on its own.

I've sent scouts to Inverness.

It seems British commissary officers have been seen

purchasing wine and sweet meats.

Food and drink is all I've been thinking about

on the ride back.

What's this?

There's little sustenance here, I'm afraid.

You'll have to postpone partaking even in that.

Why?

My belly's crying out to be fed.

Colum has arrived.

I canna believe yer encouraging this madness,

all to save goddamned Frank Randall.

Hasn't enough suffering been had

in the name of saving that mythical prick?

Frank is neither a myth nor a prick.

Oh, well, by all means, then,

let us hand over the lamb to be a plaything

for that twisted, black-hearted wolf.

Look, I realize it may seem like I've made a deal

with the devil himself,

but Mary Hawkins needs a husband.

Otherwise she and the child will be starving on the streets

and destitute.

Then I will marry her.

Hmm. Hmm.

She's not the sort of woman I'd ever imagine fer myself,

not that I spend much time doing that, mind ye.

And I'm hardly the kind she fancies,

if that soft lump Alex Randall is any indication.

But we could learn to get along.

Hmm.

People do.

I've never been a father,

but Jamie's parents,

they chose me to be his godfather,

and I've watched over him.

He didn't turn out too badly.

You've been a wonderful godfather to him.

Mary and the baby would be lucky to have you.

But?

We're at war.

You could end up dead tomorrow or the next day,

and then where would they be?

Captain Randall could share the same fate, God willing.

Yes, but as Randall's widow,

she'd be entitled to his property

and his officer's pension.

Plus he has a family pedigree and a station

that her father might find acceptable enough

to let her come home.

More acceptable than a broken down Highlander

with no home and no two sticks to rub together, eh?

I'm sorry to say, but yes.

Aye.

This is the place.

Well, wait here.

I feel it might go better if I went alone.

Mmm.

What kind of God creates a world

where monsters thrive,

beauty and purity is rewarded

with poverty and death?

The same God that also offers an opportunity for redemption.

Hmm.

You have to help me

persuade him to give this up.

Alex must marry the girl himself,

give the child a father and a name.

I will see that she is taken care of, but I...

And what happens to Mary when you're not alive to do that?

Hmm.

Your curse.

April 16th, 1746.

Yes.

The date of your death.

Merely days away.

And as your sister-in-law, Mary is entitled to nothing,

but as your widow...

What if your curse proves untrue

and the world continues as it always has?

The pure of heart choking to death on their own blood,

helped there, perhaps,

by the monsters that walk among them.

Have you ever harmed your brother?

Never.

Perhaps that immunity will also extend

to those he holds most dear.

Mm, perhaps.

Is that good enough for you?

Sometimes that's all we get.

Did he never tell you

the things I did to him in that room?

Yes.

I know the sound he makes at the last,

when he has lost himself.

And I regret none of it.

The pain,

fear,

I revel in it.

Do you really want Mary in my bed?

Help me...

persuade my brother to give this up.

Alex will not listen to me.

But you are sending your brother

to his grave with a broken heart.

If you love Alex,

then I trust that that love is enough

to stay your impulses with Mary.

It grieves me to see you so ill, brother.

Congratulations on yer ability to hide it so well.

If so, it is because I also feel joy at yer change of heart.

What change would that be?

Joining the MacKenzies of Leoch

with our righteous rebellion,

restoring the king across the water to his throne.

You think I've turned Jacobite?

That I'm going to lead the MacKenzies over the cliff,

with you lot?

Well, I may be dying,

but I have not turned simple.

If you didn't come to aid us,

then why come at all?

There are matters, clan matters,

that must be resolved while I can still draw breath.

I have declared my wish

that my son Hamish

be the next chief of Clan MacKenzie.

Hamish is but a lad.

Who will guide the clan till he comes of age,

teach him what it means to be chief?

Ned Gowan can instruct him in clan law.

And I have chosen a guardian,

somebody I believe the clan will follow

until Hamish comes of age,

a man whose task it will be

to guide the boy into manhood...

To see that he learns

how to choose what's best

for the future of the clan

and to thus demonstrate his worthiness to be chief.

James Fraser,

I offer you this guardianship.

You choose a Fraser over a MacKenzie to lead the clan?

Over your own brother?

Deny me the boy's guardianship, when by rights,

you should be proposing me as successor?

Jamie is our sister's son.

Ach, away.

He shares our blood, and you know it.

Besides, uh, I am skeptical that my support

would be enough to convince the clan

to choose you as their chief.

Do ye not think the MacKenzies would follow my leadership?

Brother, if you were half as popular

as you believe yerself to be,

then there would be more men here today

in this army of yours.

Has that thought ever crossed your mind?

Christ's bloody cross!

I love Hamish,

and he is considerably fond of me.

He barely even knows Jamie.

He's your spawn, as you are very fond of reminding me,

and I ken the deep affection ye hold fer the boy.

And I ken the real reason

behind this loathsome decision of yours.

It's your last chance to punish me

for fathering the son that you never could.

I do not have the strength to pick at old wounds.

It is the future of the clan

that holds sway over my thoughts,

and I will do all I can to ensure that future.

And what future would that be?

Do you honestly think

that Jamie will do anything different from me?

When you close yer eyes for the final time,

he will rally the MacKenzies to our cause,

and they will fight and die fer it.

And damn your wishes.

I'm honored...

to be entrusted with the care of yer son.

But Dougal speaks true.

I will use every option in my power

to defeat the British,

and that includes raising the MacKenzie banner.

I do not doubt yer fighting spirit,

but I know that you will not

sacrifice your men needlessly.

If the cause is lost,

then you will put the lives of yer men above all else.

You tell me that you would do the same.

Say the words...

meaning them,

in yer head and in yer heart,

and the guardianship is yers.

My poor brother.

I have lived my life crippled in body,

and he has lived his crippled in mind.

In sickness and in health,

forsaking all others, be faithful unto her

as long as you both shall live?

I will.

Miryam, will you take this man

to be your husband,

to live together forever in the covenant of marriage?

Will you love him, comfort him, honor, and keep him

in sickness and in health, forsaking all others,

be faithful unto him as long as you both shall live?

It's all right.

I will.

Will those of you witnessing these promises

do all in your power to uphold the marriage

of these two people?

We will.

Aye, I will. Get on with it.

O gracious and everlasting God,

look mercifully upon this man and this woman,

who come to you seeking your blessing...

A surprise attack?

During Cumberland's birthday festivities?

I guarantee

it will prove a birthday he'll not soon forget.

A birthday and a burial

on the very same day.

That will be worth celebrating.

It doesn't sound very gentlemanly.

I think we've all learned there's nothing gentlemanly

about waging war.

It would mean a 12-mile march by night.

And are the men capable of such strenuous endeavor?

They've not let us down yet.

Lord George will lead one column,

I the other.

Together we will trap the British between us.

John?

John, I look to you, as always.

The plan has some merit, I'll admit.

I will agree to it...

on one condition.

Fraser, you and the general shall ride together.

The prince and I shall command the second column.

I'm not sure that's very wise.

We accept your conditions.

Well, then, gentlemen, it's decided.

Mark me...

I shall bring my finest bottle of wine

as a gift for Cumberland,

and I shall present it to him when he's my prisoner.

It will be most amusing to see his reaction.

Very good, sir.

Brought ye a wee drink.

Will ye not leave me in peace?

Ye reek of sour wine.

Aye, I do.

It's all that I could find.

I've drunk enough to muddle a stallion,

and yet I remain as sober as a bairn.

Oh, well, it appears there is none left to share.

Oh, well.

Perhaps it's for the best.

God knows I have no wish for you to think

I would hasten your leaving of this world.

I am beyond any injury

you could do to me.

"Injury I do you"?

What about all the pain you've put me through

in this bitch of a life we've shared?

Your life is your own.

I take no blame for it.

I still remember the day.

You know, the...

the day they brought ye back after you'd been thrown

by that horse.

Was a stallion, I think.

Too wild for a ten-year-old to ride.

You were sorely injured, but...

I knew you'd recover.

You're my big brother.

Nothing hurts you.

Or so I believed.

But you betrayed me, hmm?

Instead of mending, ye got worse.

And I watched ye every day,

yer limbs getting more and more twisted.

I watched you shrink.

And I hated ye for it.

And with that hate,

I wept.

I wept more than I ever have before or since.

The world was never the same again.

You destroyed it.

No response?

Damn yer soul, answer me.

Answer me.

Brother?

Brother?

Oh, brother.

So ye turn yer back on me one final time, eh?

And ye leave me alone in the dark...

the darkness of the world.

And all I hoped to say to you...

It remains trapped in here.

Right here.

Unsaid.

Forever.

All because you couldn't keep yer arse on a bloody horse.

I can't believe you encouraged that wee slip of a girl to...

to become his wife.

I encouraged her to become his widow.

Black Jack will die tomorrow

at the Battle of Culloden.

But if we succeed tonight,

there will be no battle.

Then perhaps his death will come about by some other means.

And if it doesn't?

Then I am prepared to keep my promise

that I made to you in Paris.

To help me...

bleed him.

Remind me not to get on your bad side, Sassenach.

You be careful.

Well, where in God's name is that imbecile Charles?

Was supposed to be here hours ago.

Our army is spent.

I fear we put too much faith in starving men.

I'd take a starving Highlander

over a drunken British soldier any day.

Aye.

We could attack it now

and hope the prince's men turn up in time.

We have more chance here than with what awaits us

on Culloden Moor tomorrow.

The prince and his men, they turned back.

They lost their way in the darkness.

His troops are scattered from here to kingdom come.

Let me give the signal to attack.

We're here.

Oh, with only a portion of our force,

it would be madness.

And with the dawn, we'll lose the element of surprise.

- No. - I have no choice

but to call off the attack.

We march the army back to Inverness.

General!

Tomorrow the prince will have his battle...

On Culloden Moor.

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