“We must go in, Lady Fitzhugh.” Sir John was firm. He helped both women up, avoiding all eye contact now.
Alana shrugged free, aware that she frightened him now and he did not want to touch her. “I am fine,” she said, a complete lie. She continued to tremble uncontrollably. She still felt faint and ill.
Alana went inside with Eleanor, Sir John following.
Buchan turned as they came inside. He took one look at her and his eyes widened. “What has happened?” he demanded, hurrying toward them.
“I found Mistress Alana on the ground, crying and screaming. She then became ill,” Sir John said gravely. “I think she had a vision.”
“Is it true?” Buchan demanded.
Alana somehow nodded. “Yes.” Her mind raced, but uselessly. She did not know what to do next, or what she would say when asked.
“What did you see!” he cried.
Alana stared at her uncle. How could she deceive him? If she told him of some pleasant future for the earldom, and her vision came to pass, she would never forgive herself. Should he not be warned? This vision must never come true! “Niece!” Buchan grasped her shoulder and shook her.
“I saw our villages being burned to the ground, our villagers being murdered,” she whispered, feeling ill yet again. “I saw Highlanders murdering the innocent people of Buchan.... I saw the land, scorched and destroyed, from one end to the other, no village, no farm, no castle left standing.”
Buchan’s eyes were wide. He stared speechlessly. “How do you know it was Buchan land you saw burned and destroyed?”
Tears fell. “Bruce’s flag flew above—yours lay in shreds in the ashes.”
He roared in rage. “This is the vision you give me?”
Alana meant to speak, but his hand flew across her face so swiftly that she could not utter a word. Pain exploded and she was knocked off her feet.
“This is your vision after all I have promised you?” he roared again.
His fist was raised. Beneath him on the floor, she cringed. “Maybe it is a warning!” she cried.
He struck her again, even harder, across the same side of her face.
She choked on the blazing pain.
“Stop! Stop it, John, stop it!” Eleanor screamed at him.
But Buchan did not hear. “I asked for a vision of victory, Alana! Instead, you tell me Buchan will be destroyed? Damn you! Damn you to hell!”
“I cannot help what I saw,” she sobbed. “Please! You must make certain I am wrong!”
Buchan seemed about to kick her. Instead, he caught himself and stood over her, panting from his exertions, the hall so silent, only his heavy breathing was audible.
Alana curled up, trying not to cry, her face on fire. Eleanor scooted to her and knelt, taking her in her arms. Alana clung to her grandmother.
“We have a war to attend,” Buchan finally said harshly. “We will ride out now, as planned.”
Alana dared look at him over her tiny grandmother’s arm and cringed.
He was staring furiously at her.
Duncan stepped forward. “What about her?” He nodded at Alana contemptuously.
Buchan was now striding across the hall, past Alana and Eleanor. He did not look at them again. “Take her and the old woman back to the tower. Lock them both up until I decide what to do with them.”
* * *
THEYWERETHEEarl of Buchan’s prisoners now.
