“Aymer de Valence will gladly unite with his sister now,” Alexander said thoughtfully. “And if he did not, King Edward would order it.”
Margaret wondered at his tone. He had sounded as if he knew the English king.
Alexander looked at her and asked Seoc, “What of Sir Guy de Valence, his bastard brother?”
Seoc now looked at Margaret, clearly aware of her betrothal. “He has crossed the Firth of Clyde, my lord, and is at Glen Lean.”
Margaret gasped. Sir Guy was but a day or two away!
Alexander was staring at her now. “Have a care, Lady Margaret, yer eagerness to escape my hospitality shows.” Before she could answer—not that she had a reply to make—he turned to the boy. “And his force?”
“He has eleven hundred men, my lord, including two hundred mounted knights.”
Sir Guy outmanned Alexander, Margaret managed to think.
He looked at her again, and slowly, he began to smile. “So we go to battle, then.”
Did he look forward to engaging Sir Guy—when he was outnumbered? Margaret was incredulous.
He turned back to Seoc. “Tomorrow, ye ride to my brother at Dunaverty. Tell Angus all of this news, and that I have taken Castle Fyne. Also tell him to be certain he has provisioned the stronghold for war.”
“Aye, my lord,” Seoc said, no longer eating.
“And ask him for five hundred men—and as many knights as he can spare.”
Seoc nodded again. “If ye wish, I can leave in a moment. I’m not tired, my lord.”
Alexander smiled and clapped his shoulder. “It would please me greatly if ye left tonight.”
Seoc beamed, clearly basking in the Wolf’s approval.
Padraig now approached. “I am proud of ye,” he said. “Can I talk to ye for a moment, afore ye go?”
“Aye, Father.”
Margaret hadn’t realized that they were father and son. Padraig and Seoc stepped aside, moving to the other table, where they sat and began to converse.
“What ails ye, Lady Margaret?”
She stared at Alexander, reminding herself that if she was very fortunate, in a few days Sir Guy would take Castle Fyne, and she would be free of the mighty Wolf of Lochaber. But she remained nervous. “I do not like war, not even when it is for a good cause,” she finally said.
“Sir Guy will never defeat me, lady.”
She inhaled raggedly. “I have heard you have never been defeated in battle—but there is always a first time. And this time, you are outmanned. This time, God is on our side, not yours—as you stole what is mine.”
“I happen to think God would be very pleased with me, for seeking to put Bruce on the throne,” Alexander said.
“Bruce murdered a man on holy ground!”
“He did not deliver the final blows, and he is next in line to be Scotland’s lawful king.”
“I do not care about the destiny of kings,” she cried, meaning it. “I care about this one place, which my mother passed on to me.”
“So if ye have yer wishes come true, I will be defeated, Castle Fyne will be yer portion—and ye will wed in June,” he said, staring closely.
She wanted Castle Fyne back, but if Sir Guy was victorious, they would soon be married.
He said softly, “I canna see ye as an English wife.”
