“I already begged him to allow us to go to Sir Alexander!”
“I doubt you begged enough.”
Alana began shaking her head. “We should tie the horses up in the woods and go on foot. Tonight, when the fighting stops, we can try to gain entry through a side door. You will be allowed in, Godfrey, surely, as will Lady Joan and the girls.”
They dismounted and led their horses into the forest. As they walked along a deer path, the sounds of the battle growing louder, Godfrey said, “What if Buchan is there?”
Alana prayed that was not the case. “I have to see my father.” She did not know what she would do if she learned Buchan was within Elgin.
Alice suddenly seized her arm from behind, causing her to whirl. “Why? You do not even know him! You cannot love him! You betrayed us and pledged to Bruce!” Tears streamed down her face for the first time since she had learned of Sir Alexander’s wounds.
Alana cringed. “I do care. That is why I have risked Iain’s wrath to bring us here!”
Alice released her horse and started running through the forest toward Elgin and the siege.
Alana was about to set chase, but Godfrey restrained her. “You cannot possibly reason with her now. And she will not go far.”
He was right. She glanced at Joan and Margaret. To her surprise, Joan’s eyes were not filled with hostility or hatred. They only mirrored grief, enough so, that suddenly Alana had the urge to comfort the other woman. But she did not dare do so.
They paused when they reached the edge of the woods, where Alice sat huddled beneath a pine tree. The hill beyond was bare; Elgin sat upon the adjacent ridge.
Iain’s army was lined up there. Archers were firing upon Duncan’s men on the ramparts, as they fired back. Other Highland warriors loaded and shot missiles from three catapults. A dozen men were working the battering ram upon Elgin’s front gates. No one was yet attempting to climb the castle walls.
Joan and Margaret sat down with Alice under the pine tree. Alana now saw Iain upon his warhorse, riding back and forth along the ridge, directing his men. Some of the numbness within her faded. She watched a hail of arrows descend upon him and fear stabbed through her, but the arrows bounced off his shield.
Godfrey tied up their horses and turned to Alana. For a moment, he watched the battle, too. “He is right. You should not go within, Alana. You are a traitor. If my father is inside, if Buchan is, you will be seized the moment you are recognized.”
Alana knew he was right. And for one moment, she thought of heeding Godfrey. But then she knew she must see her father one final time. She had to know why he had chosen Alice and Margaret over her; she had to know if he truly loved her at all.
She fought sudden tears. She had to know why!
“I have no choice,” she said hoarsely.
“There is always a choice,” Godfrey said.
* * *
TWOHOURSAFTERdark, the catapults ceased. The archers had already retired to their cook fires, and the battering ram had been parked with stone brakes. An eerie silence fell upon the night.
Godfrey led the women, all in hoods, from the woods and across the first hillside. By the time they reached the next ridge, Elgin a dark silhouette atop it, two more hours had passed. Unspeaking, they traversed a gulley in order to skirt Iain’s entire army.
Margaret was the one who knew where the side door was. She had often used it as a small child, going outside to play with the dairymaid’s children, in a time when the land was not at war, but at peace.
When they finally reached the door, Joan could barely stand, and both of her daughters held her up. Godfrey called out softly until the peephole was opened.
“Who goes there!” a soldier asked. Through the slit in the wood door, the whites of his eyes showed vividly in the dark night.
“It is Godfrey of Frendraught, and Lady Comyn and her daughters are with me.”
The peephole was abruptly drawn closed. Alana trembled, and several minutes went by, but then the door was opened. “Godfrey?”
“Sir Edwain?” Godfrey asked.
“Good God, your father will be thrilled that you are here.” Sir Edwain pulled the door wide and the women rushed inside. He then shut it and bolted it behind them.
“Sir Alexander.” Joan seized his arm. “Is he alive?”
“Yes, but barely, my lady,” the knight said grimly. He glanced briefly—curiously—at Alana. “I will take you to him.”
