She did not dare glance at Eleanor. “Our kitchen maid was with child. I saw her in her childbed, the babe born alive, the poor maid dead. There was so much blood.”
“And did the maid die in childbirth?”
“Yes—exactly as I saw it.” She hugged herself. Poor Peg had died giving birth six months ago, but Alana had known she would die for months before that.
“And now? Now you have seen battles from this war?” he asked thoughtfully.
She froze, and then she glanced at Eleanor.
“From time to time,” Eleanor said.
“I didn’t ask you, Lady Fitzhugh,” Buchan said, but mildly.
“I have had one vision of the war,” she breathed, and actually, that was the truth.
“Ah, yes, Duncan tells me you saw a battle, and you first thought he was victorious, then had no thoughts at all. What did you see?”
It was hard to breathe, impossible really. The earl’s stare was relentless. Eleanor’s advice echoed in her mind—do not displease him. “The vision was not clear,” she said. She dared a quick glance at Duncan—he was scowling.
But he was hardly as intimidating as her uncle.
“That will not do.” His stance was more aggressive now. “Did you or did you not see my knight in battle?” He did not raise his tone, but it remained firm, unyielding.
Duncan might beat her, but she would survive. Eleanor was right—she must not displease Buchan. She took a deep breath. “I must confess, my lord, to you.”
“Confess what?”
She fought despair. “I do have visions, but I did not have a vision of Duncan in battle. I lied.”
Buchan’s eyes widened. Duncan turned red, and his eyes popped.
“You lied?” Buchan asked with disbelief. “Explain yourself, mistress.”
She hugged herself, trembling. “Godfrey goaded me, as he always does, I lied to spite him. I did not have a vision of Duncan in battle.”
A terrible silence fell.
Alana looked nervously back and forth between the two men. Duncan was enraged, but the earl was somehow far more frightening. She felt how his thoughts raced. She wished he would not stare.
“You will pay for this,” Duncan snarled.
Buchan lifted his hand. “Enough. Lies do not sit well with me, mistress.”
“And that is why I did not wish to lie to you.” She looked at her uncle, needing courage to do so. “Six days ago, I saw the battle for Boath Manor—I saw the manor in flames, I saw Highlanders fighting the English, and I saw their dark-haired leader rescue a woman and her two children from the inferno.” She was hoarse with fear.
Buchan’s eyes were wider. “The battle for Boath Manor was the day before yesterday.”
“Yes, it was, we came upon it—and it was exactly as I had seen.”
Duncan charged forward. “So you lied again? You saw Iain of Islay?”
“Yes,” Alana said, afraid he might strike her.
Buchan gestured at Duncan, clearly meaning for him to stand back. “Now we are getting somewhere. Boath Manor is done. How often do you have these visions, Alana?”
“It varies.”
“That will not do,” Buchan said. He gave her a sidelong look and began to pace, slowly, his expression still thoughtful.
