Seven Stones to Stand or Fall (Outlander)(3)

“A Leaf on the Wind of All Hallows” (short story [no, really, it is])—Set (mostly) in 1941–43, this is the story of What Really Happened to Roger MacKenzie’s parents. [Originally published in the anthology Songs of Love and Death, eds. George R. R. Martin and Gardner Dozois, 2010.]

“The Space Between” (novella)—Set in 1778, mostly in Paris, this novella deals with Michael Murray (Young Ian’s elder brother), Joan MacKimmie (Marsali’s younger sister), the Comte St. Germain (who is Not Dead After All), Mother Hildegarde, and a few other persons of interest. The space between what? It depends who you’re talking to. [Originally published in the anthology The Mad Scientist’s Guide to World Domination, ed. John Joseph Adams, 2013]

“Besieged” (novella)—Set in 1762 in Jamaica and Havana. Lord John, about to leave his post as temporary military governor of Jamaica, learns that his mother is in Havana, Cuba. Which would be fine, save that the British Navy is on its way to lay siege to the city. Attended by his valet, Tom Byrd, an ex-zombie named Rodrigo, and Rodrigo’s homicidally inclined wife, Azeel, Lord John sets out to rescue the erstwhile Dowager Duchess of Pardloe before the warships arrive.





NOW, REMEMBER…

You can read the short novels and novellas by themselves, or in any order you like. I would recommend reading the Big, Enormous Books of the main series in order, though. Hope you enjoy them all!





* * *




* Salmagundi: 1) A collection of disparate elements, or 2) a dish composed of meats, fruits, vegetables, and/or any other items the cook has on hand, often provided as an ad hoc accompaniment to an insufficient meal.





THE CUSTOM OF THE ARMY





INTRODUCTION


ONE OF THE pleasures of writing historical fiction is that the best parts aren’t made up. This particular story came about as the result of my having read Wendy Moore’s excellent biography of Dr. John Hunter, The Knife Man—and my having read at the same time a brief facsimile book printed by the National Park Service, detailing regulations of the British Army during the American Revolution.

I wasn’t looking for anything in particular in either of these books; just reading for background, general information on the period, and the always alluring chance of stumbling across something fascinating, like electric eel parties in London (these, along with Dr. Hunter himself—who appears briefly in this story—are a matter of historical record).

As for British Army regulations, a little of that stuff goes a long way; as a novelist, you want to resist the temptation to tell people things just because you happen to know them. Still, that book too had its little nuggets, such as the information that the word “bomb” was common in the eighteenth century, and that (in addition to merely meaning “an explosive device”) it referred also to a wrapped and tarred parcel of shrapnel shot from a cannon (though we must be careful not to use the word “shrapnel,” as it’s derived from Lt. Henry Shrapnel of the Royal Artillery, who took the original “bomb” concept and developed the “shrapnel shell,” a debris-filled bomb filled also with gunpowder and designed to explode in mid-air after being fired from a cannon; unfortunately, he did this in 1784, which was inconvenient, as “shrapnel” is a pretty good word to have when writing about warfare).

Among the other bits of interesting trivia, though, I was struck by a brief description of the procedure for courts-martial: The custom of the army is that a court-martial be presided over by a senior officer and such a number of other officers as he shall think fit to serve as council, these being generally four in number, but can be more but not generally less than three….The person accused shall have the right to call witnesses in his support, and the council shall question these, as well as any other persons whom they may wish, and shall thus determine the circumstances, and if conviction ensue, the sentence to be imposed.

And that was it. No elaborate procedures for the introduction of evidence, no standards for conviction, no sentencing guidelines, no requirements for who could or should serve as “council” to a court-martial—just “the custom of the army.” The phrase—rather obviously—stuck in my head.





This story is for Karen Henry, Aedile Curule, and Chief Bumblebee-Herder





ALL THINGS CONSIDERED, it was probably the fault of the electric eel. John Grey could—and for a time, did—blame the Honorable Caroline Woodford, as well. And the surgeon. And certainly that blasted poet. Still…no, it was the eel’s fault.

The party had been at Lucinda Joffrey’s house. Sir Richard was absent; a diplomat of his stature could not have countenanced something so frivolous. Electric-eel parties were a mania in London just now, but owing to the scarcity of the creatures, a private party was a rare occasion. Most such parties were held at public theaters, with the fortunate few selected for encounter with the eel summoned onstage, there to be shocked and sent reeling like ninepins for the entertainment of the audience.

“The record is forty-two at once!” Caroline had told him, her eyes wide and shining as she looked up from the creature in its tank.

“Really?” It was one of the most peculiar things he’d seen, though not very striking. Nearly three feet long, it had a heavy, squarish body with a blunt head, which looked to have been inexpertly molded out of sculptor’s clay, and tiny eyes like dull glass beads. It had little in common with the lashing, lithesome eels of the fish market—and certainly did not seem capable of felling forty-two people at once.