She walked to him and he took her by the shoulders and dragged her to him, kissing her as though it was their last. Because, no matter how much he would protest or fight it, this was the last time for them.
‘I beg you not to follow me, Alan. Let me go.’
He felt his soul tearing in two as he could only nod at her. How could he deny her anything? But how could he let her walk away? She did just that, though, lifting a leather satchel from the floor, opening the door and walking out of his life. She spoke just before she closed the door.
‘I will pray every day of my life that you will find it in your heart to forgive me. For lying. For loving you when I had no right to do so.’
And shewasgone.
The door closed almost silently as she pulled it and he wanted to howl like the wounded animal he was at her departure. Only when he heard the movement of horses outside did he act—pulling his shirt on and running outside before she left.
Rob and Magnus, one of the biggest men he’d ever seen, stood there blocking his path. Along with four other warriors he kenned were Rob’s best men, they formed a wall that kept him from going after her. Something dark roused within him and he flung himself at the men, asking for a fight, a fight they gave him. Later, as they tossed him up on his horse to take him back to Drumlui Keep as they’d been ordered to do, Alan was honest enough with himself to accept that they had not given him their best fight.
* * *
No matter that for it still took him two days before he could piss without seeing blood. His jaw was swollen, forcing him to drink his food for two days past that. Everyone in Drumlui Keep and Glenlui village steered a wide path around him, giving him both the silence and the time he needed to think.
Not follow her?
There was no chance of that. He had told her that he could find her and he would. No matter where Brodie sent her and no matter how long it took, he would claim her as his and his alone.
But first, he had to deal with his uncle and make certain no one else would suffer because of his self-serving treachery. As though waiting for this moment his whole life, Alan understood that, at long last, it would come down to him and his uncle.
And only one would be left alive.
* * *
A week and three days after Sorcha left him, Alan left Glenlui for what he thought would be the last time and went off to settle things with Gilbert Cameron.
Chapter Twenty
Alan was not rash or ill tempered. He did not rush forward in a task without a plan, without a process. For this one, he took his time and thought long about how to first approach and then challenge his uncle. To run in and throw allegations in his face would end exactly as Alan had always feared it would—with his death and his parents disgraced and exiled.
So, to battle a man such as Gilbert Cameron he must be deliberate and prepared. He must have evidence and he must somehow make Gilbert confess his plan before witnesses. He had already tracked down enough of the story to ken the whole of it and Alan would reveal it bit by bit, goading Gilbert’s temper and waiting for him to play his part in his own downfall.
The most difficult thing would be not involving Sorcha—not by word or whisper. Her name must remain out of it or her safety would be threatened. Her life would be at risk. A thing he simply would not risk. For if he failed and left a trail to her, his uncle would destroy her as surely as he lived and breathed.
Brodie did not approach him or offer counsel during those days. He showed up in the yard when Alan was training and fought him with sword and staff and targe, teaching him without saying a word. Brodie moved in a different way in the training yard than most others Alan had observed over time. He had gained his knowledge through battle so Alan tried to absorb as much as he could.
For Gilbert Cameron had learned his skills in battle, too.
* * *
But it was Gilbert who gave him the perfect opportunity for his plan when he summoned Alan back to Achnacarry the next week. Clan business, the messenger said, which was the way Gilbert ensured Alan would not ignore his call. This time, though, Alan was pleased to be beckoned home. Pleased to finally take this step and claim his life as his own and free his clan from Gilbert’s treachery.
The messenger’s words gave a day and time of the gathering—four days hence—but Alan would not wait for his uncle to get his pieces and pawns in place and walk in to find himself the only one not ready for this game. He packed and left that night, bidding Brodie and Arabella a private farewell before he walked out of the keep alone, into the dark.
He kenned his uncle had spies there in Glenlui, probably as many as Brodie had at Achnacarry, so he made it appear as though he was going to the village when he left. No horse, no supplies, no weapons. Those waited for him at the cottage where he’d spent that glorious night with Sorcha. He would retrieve them under cover of night and be hours away by morn. That would give him the opportunity to examine and study Achnacarry and its approaches and to see more of Gilbert’s plan before walking into it.
It was part of him, this process of tracking. He’d begun when barely out of childhood for it gave him something to concentrate on during the dark days of the clan feud with the Mackintoshes. Then, it made him feel important and valued to the Camerons even while being a vital service to his uncle, the then chieftain Euan Cameron. Arabella’s father had led them through the last battles and seized the opportunity to seek a lasting peace and end to the mutual destruction of both families.
Once Alan’s reputation as a tracker was in place, he used those skills to take him far and wide, out of Cameron lands, even all the way to Edinburgh and the Lowlands. And though Gilbert had sent him out to help other chieftains or allies of his, it gave Alan a chance to be away from his uncle who was now in the chieftain’s seat at Achnacarry.
A chance to avoid watching his father be belittled and harassed by a younger brother unworthy of the position he held. A chance to ignore the thinly disguised contempt his uncle had for him. A chance to pretend his life was as he wanted it. Now, in spite of his father’s hesitation to act, for some reason known only to him, Alan would.
* * *
He arrived in the middle of the night two days before the time the messenger gave him and hid himself in the thick forest that surrounded the castle near Loch Arkaig. And he sat back and watched and waited to learn the true intent of Gilbert Cameron’s plan for him.
