“I wish to help you, Iain!” she cried breathlessly. Alana ran past him. Where would Buchan take Alice? Would he take her up to a tower room, to imprison her as he had imprisoned Alana? She started up the stairs.
Iain quickly seized her arm, then rushed past her to lead the way. There were no torches lit in the stairwell, and it was almost as dark as the night. “Ye think he’s gone to the closest tower.” It was not a question.
“I do.”
“We must be wary,” he said softly. “Duncan is within, too. However, he is probably on the ramparts, wondering why I have yet to begin the siege.”
Alice nodded, even though Iain could not see her action. He reached the landing and paused until she was beside him. They started down the hallway. On the farthest end, the Earl of Buchan stepped out of a chamber.
Buchan saw them and froze; Iain broke into a hard run, sword raised. Alana ran after him.
The earl withdrew his sword, backing into the room he had come from. He slammed the door closed.
Alana knew Alice was within, she was certain. Iain was ahead of her—she could not keep up with him—and he reached the chamber. Alana ran up to him, panting.
He gave her a terse look. “Ye stay here, in the hall, ye dinna come inside. This time, ye obey me.”
Alana nodded.
“Vow it,” he said.
She hesitated. “I can’t.”
He was disbelieving. Then he reached for the door’s iron handle. To their surprise, it lifted in its latch—Buchan had not slid the bolt inside.
Iain gave her a sharp glance, nodded and pushed open the door. He did not move as the oak door swung open.
Alana glanced past him. There was no light inside the chamber. She saw nothing but dark shadows.
A few sconces boasted torches in the hallway, however, so they were in the light.
“Alice?” Iain spoke.
There was no answer. There was no sound at all now, except for Alana’s heavy breathing.
Her heart raced. She imagined Buchan within, her sister in his grasp, his hand covering her mouth. She looked up at Iain. He gave her a warning glance, one she knew meant that she was to stay still. “Be careful,” she mouthed silently.
He stepped back, away from the open doorway, closer to her. As he did, he pulled the chain and cross he wore from his neck. He tossed the necklace into the room.
The gold made a soft metallic sound as it hit the stone floor. And then they heard the scrape of leather soles on stone, just to the left of the doorway.
Buchan had dragged her sister farther away from the door, Alana thought. And as she had that notion, Iain charged within. “A Bruce!” he roared.
Alana raised her father’s short sword, rushing inside after him.
Buchan stood to the left of the door, and he released Alice so he could raise his own sword and meet Iain’s onslaught. Their swords clashed viciously and rang.
Alice stumbled. Alana lowered her sword to seize her hand and pull her toward the doorway. She glanced at Iain—he and her uncle were locked in battle, blade to blade, Iain savagely intent, Buchan appearing frightened.
“You came back for me?” Alice gasped.
It took Alana one second to make up her mind, as she watched the men disengage and then strike at one another again. This time, their swords shrieked so loudly, it was as if someone had pulled on the wrong strings of a harp or violin.
“Go! Go back to Joan and Margaret, then find Godfrey if you can and leave the castle!”
Alice’s eyes went wide. Then she nodded and ran off.
Alana faced the two men inside and saw that Iain had backed her uncle into the far corner of the room, and he was smiling ruthlessly now. But before he could deliver a fatal blow, she heard the many booted footsteps racing toward her from the stairwell. Alana saw Duncan, Godfrey and another soldier rushing up the hall. She screamed in warning. “Iain!”
