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Outlander Episode 11 Recap: The Devil’s Mark
Before we begin, some alternate titles for this emotional, jam-packed hour of Outlander.
- Raise Your Hand if You Have Ever Been Personally Victimized by Laoghaire MacKenzie
- There’s Something About Geillis Duncan
- What a Man, What a Man, What a Man, What a Mighty Good Man
That last point applies to two gentlemen, but we’ll get there. First, let’s begin with freakin’ Laoghaire, because she set up the proceedings when she forged an SOS from Geillis to Claire last week. Now, our Real Housewives of the Highlands are awaiting their witchcraft trial at the bottom of a deep, dark thieves hole. It being the 18th century, the trial is merely a formality—everyone loves to watch a witch burn. So, sans the possibility of legal exoneration, the only hopes of escape for Claire and Geillis seem to be 1) Dougal roars in to save his baby mama or 2) Jamie swoops in to save his troublesome enigma of a wife. Both are problematic, since Jamie is escorting Dougal to his Colum-imposed timeout.
Ships in 1-2 days.
So there’s a lot of time for hate-bonding down in the thieves hole, which really means there’s a whole lot of time to throw the blame back and forth. Sure, Claire is so very British and so very headstrong and has such perfect hair, all of which grates on people, but Geillis has killed at least one person—possibly two—and she has a habit of dancing half-naked in the forest under a moonlit sky. So, we’ll call it a draw.
While Claire refuses to spoon with Geillis for warmth, she does listen to some important confessions from her most important frenemy. Geillis admits to poisoning Arthur for months so she’d be free to marry Dougal by the time her pregnancy started to show. But not only did she kill her husband, Geillis was also funneling money from his accounts into the Jacobite cause. Politics, it seems, is what inspired Geillis and Dougal to start bumping uglies.
“Come the rising, I shall know I helped,” Geillis says, decidedly unromantically.
“I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country,” Claire replies, in her standard “no one gets my references” sort of way. But the look on Geillis’s face looks like she almost might—maybe she is a witch.
All this self-recrimination is well and good, but it’s nothing compared to the fun to be had with the character assassination in the courtroom. Before they even arrive in court, Claire and Geillis are treated to a sneak peek at the pyres being built in their flammable honor. That’s not a reassuring sight, but do you know what is? Ned Gowan to the rescue!
Ned fights his way into the courtroom to try to some legal razzle dazzle, first arguing that under British law, this trial is illegal. When that goes over like a King George commemorative balloon, Ned appeals to Scottish pride, pointing out that under Scotland’s law, accused witches are entitled to legal defense, which he would be so happy to provide.
He’s likely less happy to have volunteered once the witnesses begin spewing allegations. Geillis’s maid prattles on so long that Claire has time for a voiceover summary. Another witness claims to have seen Geillis sprout wings and fly like a creature of the night. Meanwhile, all of Claire’s good deeds now get punished as witness after witness misconstrues her attempts at help: the mother of the dead child in the forest, Laoghaire (complaining about Claire’s love potion), and Father Bain, who successfully tries a bit of reverse psychology and gets the crowd to hate Claire for saving the life of young Thomas Baxter.
Ned urges Claire to throw Geillis under the bus so he can at least save one of them. Despite Claire’s moral agony, Geillis can see which way the wind blows and, knowing she’s going to burn, demands the truth from Claire about where she came from. Claire stammers out something about an “accident” before Geillis cuts her off, acting appalled. “So you don’t want to change anything?” she asks. Does that mean what I think it means? Could Geillis also be a traveler? But one who chose to come?
We don’t get a full picture before Ned interrupts to bring them back into the courtroom.
“Looks like I’m going to a [expletive] barbecue,” Geillis seethes. It’s a decidedly non-1700s sentence…
In her usual noble fashion, Claire refuses to send Geillis up the creek, so they’re both on the guilty menu. But while the verdict isn’t much of a bombshell, Geillis’s next statement makes up for that. All she says is “1968,” and suddenly the puzzle pieces fall into place. Geillis Duncan traveled to the 18th century from 1968 by choice to change the outcome of Bonnie Prince Charlie’s rebellion.
We’ve barely got time to recover from that revelation before Jamie storms into the courtroom like Errol Flynn-meets-The Terminator to save his lady wife. But he won’t exactly have to, because he’s just marched into Geillis’s finest hour. She admits to being a witch and proclaims Claire’s innocence. Her proof? A smallpox vaccination scar on her arm that she explains as the mark of the devil. Good thing Claire’s wearing a gown with sleeves…
Heavy, huh? Not nearly as heavy as the heart-to-heart Claire and Jamie have later, in which she word vomits her whole time-traveling tale. And plumping up his Husband of the Year nomination, Jamie believes her. So much so that he takes her back to Craigh na Dun, valiantly giving her the option to return to the 20th century, and to Frank.
The choice between Claire Fraser and Claire Randall is a decision made all the more complicated by the slow-burn, fireside lovemaking Jamie had treated her to the night before. And who’s to say that doesn’t sway her ultimate decision: to run from the standing stones and back to the warm arms of Dudley Kilt-Right.
Take a moment to bow your heads for poor Frank Randall (and for Geillis’s ashes, of course). But take only a moment, because next week, we’re off to Lallybroch, where surely Claire will rejoice in having no secrets from her husband and knowing she’s not the only one who’s traveled through time, right? Right?