“I saw a battle, and there was both victory and defeat. I cannot be certain you were the victor. It was a confusing sight.”
His face mottled with anger. “That is not what Godfrey claimed. He wrote me and said you sawmetriumphant, Alana.” Warning was in his tone. “So think again and do not lie to me.”
“Men were fighting, and I saw Bruce’s flag.” She hesitated. “I think you were there. I do not know anything else.”
“You think I was present? You do not know anything else? You told Godfrey I was victorious!”
“The vision was not clear.”
He was disbelieving. “The vision was not clear? Or you will not tell me about it?”
Eleanor stepped forward. “We are sorry, my lord, truly sorry.”
Alana now regretted ever lying to Godfrey in the first place, and all for spite. But if she had not lied, she would not have been on the road near Boath Manor. Clearly, she had been meant to be on that road, although she still did not know why.
She thought of Iain, of his kiss and knew she must not allow her thoughts to go further.
“Buchan will not be pleased to hear of such a confusing vision,” he spat. He strode to the table and picked up a mug and drained it. Then he slammed it down. It was a moment before he faced her. “I am not pleased. I need details, Alana.”
Dismay flooded her. “Why will you tell my uncle about this small, confusing vision?”
“Why do you think I brought you here? I wish for you to help us! To help me! If your uncle doesn’t know about your visions, then I will be the first to tell him.” Duncan whirled and waved at a maid. “Wine, wench, bring me wine!”
Alana turned away. Did the Earl of Buchan even know that she had the sight?
Would her father have even bothered to mention that his bastard daughter was a witch? She simply did not know.
And what would happen when Buchan arrived? When her father arrived? Duncan now, suddenly, considered her valuable. Until now neither her father nor Buchan had thought about her. Was it possible that would change?
Would her uncle—her father—value her because she was a witch?
She felt no excitement. Instead, Alana wanted to cry.
Eleanor put her arm around her. “My lord, we are both fatigued from such an unusual journey. Could we retire?”
“I am not done with you.” Duncan turned his regard on Alana. “If you hid in the woods near Iain of Islay’s army...did you see him?”
Alana did not know what to say.
“Tell me the truth, Alana. Had you been in the woods, you would have stolen forth to witness the battle—I have no doubt! Well? Surely you would notice him!”
Alana wet her lips, shaken. “Why would you ask?”
“I was told Iain was wounded. There was a great deal of blood. Did you see him bleeding out? If I am very fortunate, he is dead!”
“There was blood everywhere! There were wounded men and the dead!”
Duncan stared angrily. “I think you enjoy lying to me. Well, you will not enjoy it when Nairn falls to those bloodthirsty Highlanders.”
Alana shivered and pulled her wool mantle closer.
“Is he such a terrible enemy, my lord?” her grandmother asked.
Duncan faced her. “Before he was given this army, he was but one more mad Highlander eager to slit our throats in the night. He preyed upon our ships on the western seas. Upon our merchants on the high roads. But that has changed. Bruce has come into the habit of having him advance first in every fray, to secure a path for Bruce’s larger army. He has not been defeated since his cousin provisioned him.” He turned his stare upon Alana, and she glimpsed dread and fear in his eyes. “If he takes Nairn, none of us will survive.”
Alana finally spoke, but thickly, “Is a peace possible?”
“No.” Duncan was vehement. “Bruce intends to be king—just as he intends to destroy the earldom of Buchan.”
