She somehow nodded, knowing that if he had not had to get her out of harm’s way, he would have killed Buchan when they were inside Elgin. She realized the sacrifice he had made for her sake.
For one moment, his stare held hers, and then he turned and leaped effortlessly astride his stallion. He galloped toward his soldiers and into the fray of shouting men, whistling arrows and frantic horses.
* * *
ANOTHERNIGHTHADfallen, this one bright with stars and a crescent moon. Alana stood outside upon the ramparts of the watchtower, filled with grief over Sir Alexander’s death.
They had arrived at Brodie in the early afternoon. Alana had gone into Eleanor’s arms, finally allowing herself genuine tears. Joan, Alice and Margaret had retired to their bedchamber. They had not come out since.
Alana wiped her eyes. She had so many questions now, and not just about her father’s choice to surrender to Joan’s dictums, but about his life.
She wiped her eyes again, as a wolf howled, perhaps from a nearby ridge. And she thought of Iain, whom she already missed terribly.
He did not die by Buchan’s sword, and she thanked God. She thought about her vision—it had been as accurate as all of the other ones she had had. In it, she had never seen Buchan murder Iain. He had merely been poised to do so. She could not help wondering if her vision had come so that she could warn Iain—saving his life for the second time.
But there was danger still. Buchan lived. He would seek to destroy Iain again—just as Iain sought to destroy him.
She wanted to know how the battle for Elgin had gone that day. She hoped Iain would send her word, and soon. God, if only Buchan would surrender or die, so this terrible war could end, so they could pick up the pieces of their shattered lives.
But then what? She did not want to really consider the future—for in it, Iain might wed her sister, and Bruce had promised her another man as a husband.
The wolf howled again. It was a cool April evening, and Alana turned and went down the stairs, crossing the courtyard. Iain was probably inside his tent, drinking wine and planning the next day’s siege. She wondered if he missed her as much as she did him.
She entered the hall. It was empty.
It was so strange, being home at Brodie without Godfrey. Somehow, he had become her best friend.
What would Duncan do to his own son for his treachery? Worse, what would Buchan do? She would never forgive herself if he came to serious harm, because of her.
Alana started upstairs. Everyone was asleep, and the castle was stunningly silent. In her chamber, she shed her mantle, closed the shutters and put on a sleeping gown. She was too tired to braid her hair, and she left it down. However, in spite of her exhaustion, she did not think she would sleep at all that night.
“Alana?”
She whirled at the sound of Alice’s voice. Her sister stood in the doorway, dressed for bed, her eyes red from weeping. Alana had the urge to rush to her and take her into her arms. But she did not move.
Such an impulse was premature at best, rash at worst.
“May I come in?” Alice whispered.
“Of course.” Surprised—and filled with hope—Alana turned and poured her sister a mug of wine. She handed it to her, taking one for herself. Alice hesitated and Alana sat on the bed, leaving room for Alice to join her.
But she did not. “I have come to thank you for everything that you have done for me, my sister and our mother.”
“I do not need or want your thanks,” Alana began.
“No!” Alice cried. “You defied Iain to get us to Father before he died, and then you had him rescue me, putting him at great peril. And you went with him—putting yourself in peril, too. You are brave and good and I was so mean to you.”
They were forging a truce, Alana thought with excitement, with hope. “I am not brave, Alice, I was very frightened, but not as much for myself as for Iain.”
“You love him, truly?”
Alana inhaled. “He is the only man I have ever loved.” Alana felt herself begin to blush. She looked down. “He is the only man I have ever been with.”
Alice sat down beside her. “Then you must truly love him.”
“I do.”
“But we hardly know one another. Why, Alana? Why risk his life for me?”
