Page 48 of Alec

Chapter Twelve

Alec stood beside Darro at the battlements of the watch tower as they observed what the MacBren and his men were doing below. The mercenaries had erected several tents near the stables and stationed guards all around their encampment.

“Never once did the MacBren remain at the stronghold after a visitation,” the chieftain muttered. “Why stay now, after nine centuries of ever swiftly departing with his brutes?”

“Lady Ava believes something has altered the enchantment enough to change the cycle of events.” Alec turned his head as the additional watches he’d summoned to the tower approached them. “Keep eyes on the MacBren’s encampment. Do naught unless they attack, and then follow siege defenses. Send a runner to the great hall if any of his men attempt to enter the stronghold again.”

He went back into the tower, where he advised the chief of the watch to light the braziers and send to the armory for more arrows. Halfway down the tower stairs Darro caught up with him, his expression grim.

“The lads, they’re worried,” the chieftain mentioned. “I stayed behind to reassure them. You should do the same.”

His brother’s suggestion would have stopped him in his tracks, but he had too much to do and no time to waste.

“They’re warriors, no’ wallapers. They’ll attend to their duties no matter how much they fret.” He pushed open the door at the bottom landing forcefully enough to startle the two guards flanking it into drawing their blades. “Stand easy, brothers.”

Darro didn’t say anything more until they had entered the armory, where Rory was handing out swords, daggers and war hammers to a group of patrollers. They nodded to Alec and Darro as they left, their faces pale but determined.

“Word of Kelso’s death, ’tis spread like wildfire in a drought,” the armorer told them in whispers. “With the MacBren encamped, our brothers fear more shall fall who didnae in the past.”

“Indeed. I shall advise our lord to keep our vassals locked away until this alteration ends,” Darro said, nodding.

“And if it never ends?” Alec countered. “If the MacBren can change his acts with the shift in the enchantment, then why cannae we?”

Rory grimaced. “We live, and possess free will, as we did before the curse. We’re imprisoned here. The MacBren, he’s but a memory of ours brought to life by magic. He has no will, nor spirit.”

“If only we could forget that vicious bastart,” the chieftain muttered.

Alec refilled his hip quiver as he told the armorer about the need for more arrows in the watch tower, and then retrieved a second quiver and strapped it between his shoulder blades. “Chieftain, we need to move the rest of our females to the dungeons before nightfall, and place enough guards with them to hold off any attack. Even if the MacBren’s men dinnae use the cover of darkness to make their way inside, we didnae yet find what froze Elspeth.”

“I shall see to it now, War Master.” The chieftain nodded to them both before he hurried out.

“You cannae save them all,” Rory said as Alec went to the cabinet where he kept his own weapons.

“How well I ken that.” He met the big man’s gaze. “Until this alteration ends, I want you with the laird at all times. You dinnae sleep anymore, so you shall guard him when he slumbers.”

“’Tis sensible.” Rory reached under a table and hefted his war hammer, which he had long ago forged from a strange greenish-brown metal. He then held out his free hand. “Where shall you stand watch, War Master?”

“Everywhere.” He reached out and clasped the armorer’s forearm. “Go carefully, Brother.”

From the armory Alec went to the great hall, where he expected to find Tasgall with his personal guards. Instead, the laird had his wife and Olivia standing with him by a table, on which he had spread a scroll map. Ava looked up and shook her head slightly, as if to signal that he shouldn’t approach or interfere.

Fack if I shallnae.

Tasgall’s lady could take her chances with the MacBren and his killers, but Alec had no intention of permitting Olivia to remain at risk. He crossed the hall to join them, but before he could say anything the laird’s gaze went from the scroll map to Alec and then to the greenish-yellow light now coming directly inside the window slits.

In another handful of hours, the sky would turn dark, at which point his mortal weakness would render him deaf until what passed for dawn here.

“Lass, I need speak with you alone.” Alec came around the table, seizing Olivia’s hand. “Come with me now.”

“I wanted to talk to you, too.” She hurried with him out of the hall. “The laird told me that no one has ever informed Lord MacBren that he and his men are also caught in this time trap.”

He stopped short and frowned at her. “That man died nine hundred years ago, lass. The thing you see, ’tis but a double of the MacBren produced by the curse. He and his men, they’re no’ real.”

“Whatever this MacBren is, he’s just demonstrated that he can make other choices,” she countered. “Staying here instead of leaving as he did when he was alive—and every other time cycle before this one—means he can act independently of the enchantment. This could be the perfect time to persuade him to stop repeating the mistakes of the past that culminates in the murders of him and his wife. Ava told me the whole story. Let me talk to him.”

“You shallnae go anywhere near him.” He took her arm and marched her through the passage that led to the garrison hall. In his chamber he would take her into the hidden passage between the walls that led down to the dungeons, where she would be safe.

“Why shouldn’t I try?” she argued. “I’m trapped here just like you and the clan. If I’m polite to him–”