Alana blinked and saw the dirty gray snow of the courtyard, the castle’s gray walls, the soldiers leaving. She was relieved. The images had not been a vision, just memories of the horrific vision she had had.
As they went down the front steps, Alana saw that the castle’s remaining inhabitants, mostly kitchen maids, serving boys and cooks, were filing out through the front gates. A dozen Highland warriors were mounted and stood sentinel by the entry tower, watching them as they left. A handful of soldiers were loading two wagons with the last of the army’s equipment, draft horses in the traces. Otherwise, the usually busy courtyard was deserted.
Alana did not have to ask to know that no one, not even a pig or a cow, was left within the castle’s walls. Dread consumed her.
“Go on,” Donald said.
But she did not move. “Is Buchan alone at Elgin?”
Donald started. “I dinna ken yer meaning, lady.”
“How many armies does he have?” she asked. She wanted to know if Sir Alexander was at Elgin—and about to be attacked. “He has many brothers, one was at Lochindorb, and he has a fine army.”
“I know nuthin’ of Buchan’s brothers but I was at Lochindorb,” Donald said, grinning. “We chased them cowards right away.”
Alana shivered and rubbed her arms. She would have to wait until she got home to learn of her father, she realized. Donald gestured at the entry tower, and they hurried after the others who were leaving. She wondered if they were the very last ones to depart. She glanced wildly around, but did not see Iain within.
She felt a surging of panic. He had said they would speak before she left, and it felt very important to see him again before she returned home and he marched upon Elgin Castle. Maybe she would have enough time to tell him the truth.
They reached the main entry tower, atop the south road, and went through it. Across the hillside and filing down the single road, which led to Aberdeen and Dundee, she saw an exodus of men, women and children.
Alana instantly realized that the population was not just from the castle, but from the surrounding farms and the nearby village. And all the country’s livestock had been released. Cows, pigs and goats, as well as a few horses, grazed at random about the hills and alongside the road.
Then she saw what the soldiers were doing—wood was being piled up at intervals, along the castle walls.
Alana seized Eleanor. “They are going to burn the castle down.” They began to run away from the entry tower and its front gates. Alana’s heart exploded in fear. Disbelief warred with dismay.
How could he burn Nairn to the ground? How?
But wasn’t that what her uncle had said about Iain? About Bruce? That he burned enemy strongholds down, leaving no stone standing?
But she would never believe the rest of what Buchan had said—never.
And why were the villagers being sent away? Why were all the farm animals loose?
“I am taking ye to Brodie,” Donald now said. He pointed to where a soldier held a saddled horse and a mule, the latter animal harnessed to their wagon.
Alana hesitated, but Donald was already helping Eleanor up into the wagon’s single seat. Frantically, she scanned the countryside, and as she did, galloping hoofbeats sounded. She whirled and saw Iain approach, astride his dark horse, coming from the far side of the castle. He halted before her, his mount rearing. He jerked its reins hard to settle it.
Their gazes locked.
He seemed grim—yet the heat between them remained, she felt certain. “Iain?”
“I wish ye Godspeed, Alana,” he said.
She shook her head. It was hard to speak. “I wish you Godspeed, too, Iain.”
He studied her. “Are those tears fer me?”
“For you...for me...for them.” She pointed to the men, women and children walking down the road, away from the castle.
He looked at them, not speaking.
“What are you doing, Iain?” she begged. But she knew, and the knowledge was making her ill.
“Nairn burns today, Alana,” he said harshly.
Was he avoiding her eyes? “How can you burn Nairn Castle down?” she cried. “And what of the village, the farms?”
