“My father has told me everything,” Godfrey said harshly, “in the last missive he sent. You told him the earldom will be destroyed. Of course he locked you in the tower!”
“It is what I saw,” Alana said. “I never wanted such a horrible vision!”
“Really?” Godfrey flushed. “You see the destruction of Buchan’s earldom, and you tell him the truth! You see Iain of Islay in battle, and you lie!”
“You goad me like no other,” Alana said. “Yes, my vision was of a different battle entirely, and I saw Iain of Islay in it, not your father.”
Godfrey shook his head. “Why did Iain of Islay let you go? Why did he not keep you as hostages? Or did his men let you go unbeknownst to him?”
Eleanor spoke now. “Why would he keep us, Godfrey? He doesn’t know Alana is Buchan’s niece, or that she has the sight.”
There was a moment of silence, as Godfrey stared at her. Alana’s heart skipped. Godfrey was surprised that Iain did not know she was a Comyn, and perhaps, that she was a witch. If he ever learned that she wished to keep such secrets, he would deliberately reveal them—she had no doubt.
Alana inhaled. “Actually, I truly regret allowing myself to be goaded into lying to you. I have paid for what I have done.”
His eyes widened. “You blame me for your lie?”
She did, but she somehow shook her head. “It was petty of me. And it was also foolish.”
He eyed her with suspicion. “Is that an apology, Alana?”
She hesitated. She actually was sorry, on this single count, anyway. “If you had been at the battle of Nairn, you might understand. It was terrible and terrifying. But even worse was how ruthlessly they destroyed Nairn afterward.” She fought the compulsion to cry. Brodie must never come to such a fate!
“I think we should have some wine,” Eleanor said. She nodded at a maid, who went to the table to get the pitcher and mugs for them.
“I am not thirsty,” Alana said. She did not wish to drink wine with Godfrey.
“I am,” Godfrey said. As the maid brought mugs to the women, he went to the table and poured his own mug. Then he turned to face them. “I do not know how I can ever defend Brodie when I have so few men and arms.”
Alana took a sip of wine. He was worrying about Brodie, too. “I am praying that Brodie is too small and too insignificant and will be forgotten in the war.”
“No place is forgotten in war—and no one,” Godfrey said.
“I hope you are wrong. And I do not know who we could beg for aid from, should we be attacked.” She wondered if she would one day beg Iain not to attack her home. She did not think he would heed her then, as he had not listened to her pleas for mercy at Nairn.
Godfrey approached. “You could beg for aid from your father.”
Alana was shocked by the suggestion. She slowly stood. “I do not even know if he is alive! I have had no word since I heard he was defending Lochindorb.”
“He escaped with most of his men. They withdrew before the fighting became heavy, which was wise, as he would have surely lost the battle to Iain of Islay.” Godfrey was grim. “He is at Elgin with my father and the earl.”
She felt stunned. And then she was flooded with relief, as if she had lost Iain that day, but that now something precious had been returned to her.
“You are so loyal to him, when he has never openly acknowledged you,” Godfrey said.
“He is my father—and that will never change.” But her heart cracked at his words.
“If you wish to write to him, I can send your missive with my own to Duncan.”
Alana stared, suddenly confused and slightly suspicious. “So you wish for me to write him?”
“One day, we may need his help.” Godfrey was blunt.
How she hoped he was wrong. But he was right, and for the first time in her life, she saw him in a new light—as a young man who wasn’t entirely a fool, and who was wise enough to plan ahead in the event that Brodie was attacked. “I will write him.” She turned. “Gran? I am going upstairs to rest. Will you come?”
“I am enjoying the fire, Alana. I will be up a bit later,” Eleanor said.
Alana realized her grandmother wished to speak with Godfrey alone. As she left, he said, “I will send parchment and ink, Alana. My messenger rides in the morning.”
