Outlander Page #8

Season #1 Episode #1 - 'Sassenach'

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CLAIRE:

Let me go!

JACK RANDALL:

Oh, it’s like that, is it?

The more she struggles, the more it eggs Randall on. He

kisses her hard, forcing his tongue into her mouth for a

moment before pulling back

JACK RANDALL (cont’d)

You haven’t the smell of dung on

your skin, so you haven’t been with

a farmer. For that matter, you

look a bit more expensive than the

local cottars could afford.

(beat)

I like expensive things.

(CONTINUED)

35.

CONTINUED:
(3)

He leans down again, but now Claire SCREAMS into his ear, he

jerks back and she brings up a KNEE into his crotch. He

falls off her in pain and she scrambles up, but she comes

face to face with a ROCK WALL and before Claire can find a

way out, Randall has rolled to his feet and blocks her path

to safety.

CLAIRE:

My husband is expecting me. He’ll

come looking for me if I’m not back

in ten minutes.

Randall’s eyes go feral as the big cat senses his prey is

cornered and flailing about.

JACK RANDALL:

Your husband? What’s his name and

why does he allow his wife to

wander the woods alone in her

shift?

CLAIRE:

I don’t answer to you.

She tries to bolt past him, but he’s faster and THROWS her

back with a force that nearly takes her off her feet.

JACK RANDALL:

Skin of a lady, French scent in

your hair... that could all be

managed with money from your

patron... but you’ve the speech of

a lady as well.

Claire backs up, finding only the rock wall behind her.

Randall advances, the time for games drawing to a close.

JACK RANDALL (cont’d)

You intrigue me, madam. Whores are

usually so dull and obvious. I

look forward to plumbing your

depths.

Suddenly he’s on her and Claire is completely overpowered.

Strong, powerful fingers dig into her throat and shove her

against the rock, his knees forcing her legs apart and his

free hand reaching below her skirt -

-- a MAN comes CRASHING down on Randall from above. A well-

placed blow to the head from a powerful fist, and Randall

lies on the ground, unconscious. The man, MURTAGH (30’s)

wears a ragged shirt and filthy kilt, with pock-marked skin

and a swarthy complexion.

(CONTINUED)

36.

CONTINUED:
(4)

MURTAGH:

This way.

He grabs Claire by the arm and jerks her into the woods.

EXT. HILLSIDE - DAY

Murtagh is dragging Claire down the hillside.

CLAIRE:

Who the hell are you? Where are we

going? I said, WHERE ARE WE-

He suddenly whirls, puts a hand over her mouth and throws her

bodily to the ground, pinning her there with his weight. She

struggles, wide-eyed and expecting the worst. In the

distance, we suddenly HEAR ENGLISH VOICES in the distance.

Claire struggles wildly, hoping to cry out for help. She

bites down on Murtagh’s hand, but instead of releasing her,

he smashes a ROCK into her head -

CUT TO BLACK.

CLAIRE (V.O.)

I wanted it to be a dream. But I

knew it wasn’t.

FADE IN:

EXT. COTTAGE - DUSK

Claire comes to on HORSEBACK, sitting in front of Murtagh,

who keeps her upright on the saddle. They come to a stop

outside an old COTTAGE amid a copse of trees on a hilltop. A

fine MIST is in the air as they dismount, Murtagh handling

her easily.

CLAIRE (V.O.)

If nothing else, my erstwhile

savior fairly reeked of odors too

foul to be part of any dream I was

likely to conjure up.

Claire doesn’t protest as he unties her hands, then guides

her through the door of the cottage.

INT. COTTAGE - DUSK

Claire’s eyes take a moment to adjust to the blaze of light

inside from CANDLES, OIL LAMPS and a FIRE in the hearth of

the single-room cottage.

(CONTINUED)

37.

CONTINUED:

A group of rough-looking MEN in KILTS and Highlander rigs are

drinking, tending various wounds, and talking in low voices

as they ENTER. Their bearded leader -- DOUGAL (40’s) --

looks up.

DOUGAL:

What is it you have there, Murtagh?

MURTAGH:

A sassenach wench, by her speech.

Murtagh brings her to where Dougal sits by the fire, a hunk

of bread in his hand. Her dress is torn in several places

and there’s a fair amount of breast and thigh exposed.

CLAIRE (V.O.)

I decided that clutching at the

remnants of my torn dress like a

frightened child would only invite

more predatory interest.

Claire pulls away from Murtagh’s grip and stands tall before

Dougal with a calm, steady expression on her face.

DOUGAL:

A bonny one, sassenach or no.

What’s your name, lass?

CLAIRE:

Claire... Claire Beauchamp

[pronouncing it Bee-cham].

CLAIRE (V.O.)

Using my maiden name was a spur of

the moment decision. If they

intended to ransom me, I didn’t

want to lead them back to Frank.

DOUGAL:

Beauchamp? [French pronunciation.]

A French name, it is, surely?

CLAIRE:

That’s right. And just what do you

think you’re --

Dougal ignores her as he would a child or a dog who suddenly

decided to yap at him.

DOUGAL:

(to Murtagh)

Where did ye find her?

(CONTINUED)

38.

CONTINUED:
(2)

MURTAGH:

At the foot o’ Craigh na Dun havin’

words with a certain Captain of

dragoons wi’ whom we are acquent’.

The men in the room get the reference to Randall -- clearly

they all know him and don’t think very highly of the captain.

MURTAGH (cont’d)

There seemed to be some question as

to whether the lady was or was not

a whore.

A few muttered comments as they eye her tattered garments.

DOUGAL:

And what was the “lady’s” position

in this discussion?

CLAIRE:

I. Am. Not.

That amuses the group. A large, fat man -- RUPERT (30’s) --

then moves toward Claire with a leer.

RUPERT:

We could put it to the test.

Claire refuses to shrink back from the huge bulk moving

toward her, but it’s an effort.

DOUGAL:

That will do, Rupert. I don’t hold

wi’ rape and we’ve not the time for

it, anyway.

MURTAGH:

Dougal, I’ve no idea what she might

be, or who -- but I’ll stake my

best shirt she’s no a whore.

Dougal looks her over one more time.

DOUGAL:

We’ll puzzle it out later. We’ve

got a good distance to go tonight

and we mun’ do something for Jamie

first; he canna ride like that.

Dougal gets up and the men part for him as he heads over to

the fire. Claire, forgotten for the moment, retreats to one

of the shadows, happy to no longer be the center of

attention.

(CONTINUED)

39.

CONTINUED:
(3)

CLAIRE (V.O.)

Escape was my chief concern. But

escape to where? I had no idea

where I was and trying to find the

road back to Inverness in the dark

felt like a fool’s errand.

AT THE FIRE:

JAMIE MACKENZIE FRASER (22) a young man, with a shock of red

hair, sits on a stool, rocking back and forth in pain as he

clutches one shoulder with the opposite hand.

Dougal comes over and gently pulls away the protective hand,

while Murtagh quickly cuts away the dirty, blood-soaked linen

shirt with a knife. Several men gasp at the sight of Jamie’s

shoulder:
a bloody wound still flowing freely down his

chest, but the real horror is the shoulder joint itself and

the way his arm hangs at an unnatural angle.

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