Chapter Ten

CHAPTER TEN

T HEY HAD RIDDEN down Slioch Mountain at sunrise, on a well-used but icy road that went down the ridge's back side, and continued south through Macleod land. They had not paused, and by the afternoon they were traveling through the great forests of Glen Carron. It was close to sunset now. They had reached the northern shores of Lochalsh, and a camp was rapidly being erected.

Alana slowly dismounted, as exhausted as she was cold. She hadn't realized an entire army could move so swiftly, and endure such a determined pace for so long.

"My lady?" Meg took her reins, having dismounted, as well. The two women had ridden side by side; Meg had been ordered to attend Alana, never mind that Alana would have preferred the other woman to remain far behind.

Alana was taking off her mittens. She rubbed her frozen fingers together, aware of the small prickling of pain. Her toes tingled hurtfully, too.

"It is not unusual, after such frostbite, to have some discomfort."

She whirled and saw Iain sliding from his huge black charger, his fur barely drawn over his shoulders. She had seen him several times during their journey. He had made a point of riding over to her to ask after her welfare. "I think I am fine," she said, although she was not sure. "It doesn't hurt the way it did yesterday."

"I am sorry ye had to ride like this, today."

Alana met his gaze. It was openly concerned, and she could not doubt that he still cared for her. Meg took their horses away. "How long will we stay here?"

"'Tis a good place for us to rest. MacDonald kin control these lands. We will stay a few days, as the men have ridden hard since we left Concarn."

There was more relief. Her legs ached from so much riding in the past few days, and her back hurt, too. She was not a warrior, accustomed to such exertion.

Iain took her hands in his and glanced at them. Instead of releasing her palms, he gripped them tightly, smiling at her. "I've seen worse. Ye'll be fine."

She moved closer to him, her skirts brushing his thighs. "I could not bear it when you were angry with me."

His gaze darkened, but not with anger. How she recognized the slow burning gleam. "I am still angry.... Ye could have died, crossing the northwest Highlands in the winter!"

She pulled her hands free of his and placed them on his chest. "I could not sit idly by, allowing you to be ambushed, not when I had learned of my uncle's plans."

"So ye have chosen sides." He covered her hands with his, holding them against his chest.

Alana tensed. "I chose you, Iain, over my father, but I do not want anything ill to befall him." She prayed yet again that her vision of her father's death had been wrong.

"Ye almost sound as if ye know he will be in jeopardy."

They should not have secrets between them, not now, Alana thought. How she wished to tell him about her visions. But she did not dare, not now, not yet.

"I haven't had a chance to speak with you. Sir Alexander came to Brodie with Buchan. I finally met him a second time, after all of these years." Her breath caught with some lingering pain. She looked away.

He tilted up her chin. "And he has hurt ye again?"

So many thoughts went through her mind, and she could not speak. She thought of her mother, who had loved him, and now she could understand why. She thought of her sisters, whom Sir Alexander loved, so much so he did not want either of his daughters to marry Iain. And then there was her life.

She could not imagine how her sisters must feel, knowing they were so well loved. At least she had Eleanor.

"Your tent is ready," she said.

He glanced behind them. His tent had been erected, his banner flapping in the breeze above it. "What did he say, Alana, to distress ye so? What did he do?"

She tried to pull away, but he still clasped her hands. She gave up and said, "I am growing cold, standing here like this."

"So ye will not speak of him?"

Alana had the urge to cry. "Maybe," she whispered, "another time."

He studied her closely. "Bruce wishes to speak with me. Why dinna ye rest, and we will sup together in a few more hours."

Alana felt as if she had been given a reprieve. But when he released her hands, she clung to him. She had risked her life to warn Iain of the ambush because she loved him. She let his wrists go and slid her hands up his broad, hard chest. "Will you come in with me?" she asked.

"I will come to ye later," he said.

Alana shook her head as she whispered, "No, come now. I have missed you and I need you."

His eyes blazed. Before he could think of his king again, she took his hand and tugged him with her into the tent. She saw Meg within, unrolling the rug to cover the snowy ground. His stool, small table and pallet had already been set up. "Leave us, please," Alana said.

Meg's eyes widened. She looked between Alana and Iain, and at their clasped hands. Then she hurried past them and left.

"What do ye plan, wench?" Iain said softly.

Alana's heart was slamming uncontrollably in her chest. She dropped his hand and tossed her two furs onto the pallet, making the bed for them. As she straightened, Iain seized her from behind.

He locked her in his embrace and kissed the side of her neck. "Temptress."

Alana wriggled against him, spooning against his huge, hard arousal. "I think you have missed me. " One of his sheathed swords bumped her calf.

He pushed her down onto the pallet, coming down on top of her. "I think ye have quickly learned how to entice a man." He kissed her neck again, slowly lifting her skirts and running his hands over her bottom.

Alana gasped when his fingers touched her. He laughed at her whimper of pleasure and wrapped her in his arms and thrust deep. "Iain!" Alana gasped.

"Ye tempt me as no other," he gasped back.

They surged hard against one another for a few moments, and then Iain flipped her over. Alana wrapped her legs around his waist and cried out in a shocking release. He grunted in satisfaction, moved harder, and gasped in his own climax.

Alana held on to him, hard. Tears arose. She had missed him so much. She kissed his shoulder. She had never been as grateful that they were no longer at odds. She must never allow anything to come between them again!

He kissed her cheek. "Are ye crying?" He sounded surprised.

"No." She caressed his broad, strong back. Then, "Yes. Just a little."

He held her in his arms, and his embrace tightened. "Dinna cry," he whispered.

"I am so grateful," she whispered back, "that we are no longer at odds."

His gaze was searching. He released her slowly, sitting up. "Bruce is waiting. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Alana sat up, adjusting her clothes as she did so. She nodded. "Hurry."

He smiled at her, eyes darkening. "Impossible wench." Alana felt her smile fade after he left. She took up one of the furs, wrapped it around herself and hugged her knees to her chest.

She was deeply in love. Iain had forgiven her, that much was clear, and they were lovers again. But now what?

She had been successful in warning him of the Christmas Day ambush. When she had learned of Buchan's plans, she hadn't had to think twice about what she must do. She could never let Iain be surprised and attacked, she had had to warn him—to protect him.

She now realized the extent of what she had done. For all intents and purposes she had spied on her uncle and her father, even if that had not been her deliberate intention. She had purposefully betrayed them. She had revealed their war plans to their enemy.

Buchan would imprison her as a traitor if he ever found out. Or he might do far worse. He would be within his rights to hang or behead her for treason, if he so chose. Having seen his temper, and knowing how he felt about his own wife, she thought he might choose to execute her.

Had she chosen sides in this war without even realizing it? She had wanted to protect Iain, not betray her own family! But now the betrayal was done. And having betrayed Buchan, how could she ever return to Brodie?

Dismay flooded her. Brodie was her home. It had belonged to her mother! She tried to think of a plausible excuse for leaving Brodie, but her mind was blank. The best she could come up with was that she had decided it was time to meet her sisters. Would Godfrey believe that? Would Duncan? Would Buchan?

She could probably convince Godfrey of almost anything. As she thought of her sisters, there was more dismay.

Bruce was possibly planning a marriage for Iain to Alice, while Buchan hoped for a marriage to Margaret. She did not think Iain would ever betray Bruce. But if Buchan was defeated, as she was certain he would be, Alice was ripe for the plucking. How would she stop him from marrying such a great heiress—her own sister?

The answer was simple. She could not force Iain to heel. He was a powerful and ambitious man. When the day came where Buchan was defeated, and he was presented with Alice as a bride, he would accept her if he wished to do so—there would be no stopping him.

Alana covered her face with her hands, her elbows on her knees. Her visions thus far had always come true. Buchan would be defeated; Bruce would reign supreme as King of Scotland. And her father was going to die....

What of her last vision? She would have to warn Iain that Buchan was going to try to kill him. At least she hadn't seen the final blow, or his head being severed from his body!

Alana did not know what to do. She was just a bastard daughter who had been forgotten, a warrior's mistress who could be cast aside at any time, and a witch most people feared. She could not depend on her father or her family, she knew that, and as much as it pained her, she really could not depend on Iain, either. Where did that leave her?

She would have to take care of herself when the time came, when Buchan disowned her, when Bruce became Scotland's one true king....

And all she had was Brodie. It was all she had ever had.

She sat up straight. Brodie would be hers. Bruce was very pleased with her now.

Alana stood abruptly. She had risked everything to warn Iain—and Bruce—of the ambush. She must collect her reward from Robert Bruce.

Alana stepped to the tent flap and opened it slightly, peering outside.

Meg rushed over. "Are ye hungry, my lady?"

Alana gazed past her. Some campfires were lit, cook pots hanging over them. Bruce's tent was in the camp's precise midpoint, surrounded by a sea of hide tents, his yellow-and-red banner flying above it in the gathering dusk. "I must speak with the king," she said.

Meg started. "He is with his commanders, my lady. Ye cannot interrupt."

No, she could hardly interrupt. And then she saw a group of men leaving Bruce's tent. Iain was with them. She trembled with nervous anticipation.

He saw her and quickened his stride. Alana waited for him to cross the camp, not moving until he had reached her. "Is something amiss?" he asked immediately.

"Iain, when can I speak with the king—about my reward?"

It was a moment before he spoke. "Ye wish to press him for Brodie?"

She had a flashing image of herself as mistress of Brodie—receiving Alice and Iain there. "Yes."

"Let us go. Bruce is in a cheerful mood. If he will see ye now, this would be a good time." He took her arm.

Alana glanced at him as they walked toward Bruce's tent. "You approve?"

He smiled slightly. "Brodie belonged to yer mother. I approve."

Alana faltered. His smile was warm and she realized he genuinely wished for her to have Brodie.

"Why are ye surprised, Alana?"

"Sometimes," she said carefully, "I feel as if you truly care for me."

He gave her a quick, odd look.

Two soldiers stood guard outside Bruce's tent. They moved aside for Iain without hesitation. Becoming terribly nervous, Alana waited outside as Iain went in. She ignored the two soldiers, who glanced curiously at her with some guarded male appraisal. She was accustomed to being regarded with fascination and fear, but no one in Bruce's camp knew of her abilities. She was being looked at as an ordinary woman.

It was so pleasant.

Iain opened the flap and gestured. Alana summoned up her courage, and hurried inside.

Bruce sat with two other knights at a small table, drinking wine. He smiled widely at her. "I always have time for a beautiful woman, Mistress Alana," he said.

Alana curtsied. "Thank you, Your Grace."

He gestured for her to take a seat; the table was flanked with two benches, as well as his chair and a stool. Alana took the stool. Iain stood behind her, and Bruce handed her a cup of wine. "This is Gilbert Hay and Sir Robert Boyd," he told her. "Two of my most loyal friends."

Alana nodded at the men. Their stares were direct and very intent. But then, they knew she was Buchan's niece.

"Are you feeling better today?" Bruce asked. "We worried about you, mistress, having to travel in the cold after your recent ordeal."

"It seemed warmer today," Alana said.

"It is always warmer when one travels south," Bruce said. He drained his wine and set the mug down. "Iain tells me you have come to request your reward."

Alana was grateful Iain had spoken so forthrightly. "Will it displease you, Your Grace, that I am so bold?"

"Nothing you do right now could displease me, mistress. You are high in my favor. Speak your mind."

There would never be a better moment, she thought. "Brodie is all I have left of my mother and the great le Latimer family," she said. "Your Grace, my father abandoned me before I was born. He was betrothed to Joan le Latimer even as he pursued and won my mother. He told me himself, recently, that he loved my mother, but could not go against his father, and did not even think of doing so. His wife, Joan, knew of me from the beginning, and because she had no kindness in her heart, I was abandoned, forgotten.... I was raised as a commoner by Lady Fitzhugh, and given over to Duncan of Frendraught as his ward. I have had nothing from my father my entire life, and I have had nothing of my mother's or her family's, either. But I covet Brodie. I covet Brodie with my entire being, my entire heart. Had my father cast off Joan and married my mother, Brodie would be mine." Bruce was listening intently—everyone was—and his expression was hard to read. "Duncan has many estates. Godfrey will inherit all of them, as he is an only son. I am asking you for Brodie Castle."

Bruce poured a cup of wine and stood. He held it up. "I do not think you are asking for too much. It is a small stronghold with little significance, except as an outpost for Elgin and Nairn, once they are rebuilt. And I have given Nairn to Iain. So aye, Mistress Alana, I will give you Brodie, for your courage and loyalty, because you are our true friend." He saluted her with his cup and drank.

Alana began to shake uncontrollably. He would give her Brodie, just like that?

Brodie was going to be hers!

Iain still stood behind her, and he said, "We should take Brodie before we march on Elgin and Banf. It is undermanned, and if Godfrey thinks to resist, it would fall in hours."

Alana jerked to glance up at him. Was it possible she would be in command of Brodie so soon? Well before this war ended?

"You are so eager to install your mistress there?" Bruce asked, but he was smiling, clearly amused. Then his smile faded. He looked at Alana. "You will have to swear your allegiance to us, mistress. You will have to make an oath of fealty."

Alana stiffened. Hadn't she already proven her loyalty? "I betrayed the Earl of Buchan, my uncle."

"Aye, you did, but a man's pledge is of even greater significance than a single act. Are you unable to swear your fealty to us?"

Alana had already chosen Iain over her own father, and the choice had been oddly easy to make. But acting out of fear for Iain's life was one thing. She would betray her father and her uncle a dozen times over to keep Iain safe—she knew that. But to make an oath of fealty to King Robert was a pledge that screamed louder than any action ever could. It meant she was declaring her loyalty to Bruce, vowing it before God, for all the world to see. It meant she was walking away from her Comyn family, once and for all. There would be no turning back from such a pledge.

"Alana?" Iain said. He clasped her shoulder.

"I hate my uncle," she said, her tone sounding choked to her own ears. "But I do not hate my father, and I do not even know my sisters."

"So you will not swear fealty to me?" Bruce wasn't smiling now.

Tears flooded her eyes. Alana knew she did not have any other options. She shook her head, stood and dropped to her knees, bowing her head. "I will take the oath now."

"Good." Bruce spoke from above her. She then felt his sword's blade upon her right shoulder. "Uncover your head, mistress. Do you carry weapons?"

Alana removed her hood, so she was bareheaded, and shook her head, as she did not carry even the tiniest knife.

"Speak as I speak," Bruce commanded.

Alana nodded, still bowing her head. Her tears fell freely onto her hands. She hoped no one could see.

"I, Mistress le Latimer, daughter of Elisabeth le Latimer, bastard of Sir Alexander Comyn, do swear before God, that I will be faithful to my lord, King Robert Bruce of Scotland, now and in the future, and that I will never do him harm, never cause deceit, and will faithfully obey in all things, all commands of King Robert Bruce of Scotland, may God strike me down otherwise."

Alana inhaled. "I, Mistress le Latimer, daughter of Elisabeth le Latimer, bastard of Sir Alexander Comyn, do swear before God, that I will be faithful to my lord, King Robert Bruce of Scotland, now and in the future, and that I will never do him harm, never cause deceit, and will faithfully obey in all things, all commands of King Robert Bruce of Scotland, may God strike me down otherwise." She felt his sword upon her other shoulder.

"You may rise," Bruce said.

Alana began to get up, but Iain lifted her effortlessly to her feet. She blinked back her tears rapidly as their eyes met. He smiled encouragingly at her.

"Mistress le Latimer, of Brodie Castle," Bruce said, raising his cup.

Gilbert Hay, Sir Robert Boyd and Iain all raised their mugs, smiling. Alana looked at the circle of men and felt faint. Was this truly happening?

"Will you not drink?" Bruce asked pleasantly.

Alana looked at him. Did she dare? "Your Grace? May I ask one more thing?"

Bruce started, surprised. "You wish for more than Brodie Castle?"

Alana felt Iain grasp her shoulder. She ignored him. "I wish for what all women wish for, my lord—a husband."

She felt Iain's hand tighten on her. Bruce relaxed, appearing thoughtful. Iain dropped his hand and walked around her to look at her, his stare hard and surprised.

But she refused to look at him. She stared at Bruce, instead.

"Of course you wish for a husband," he said. "All women do. And you are young and beautiful. How old are you, mistress?"

"Twenty."

"And you have no children?"

"None, Your Grace."

"Hmm. Brodie would have to be your dowry.... I will have to think on this, but I am not opposed to finding a husband for you."

She inhaled. "Give me Iain of Islay," she said.

Iain stiffened. Alana saw his reaction from the corner of her eye; he was taken by complete surprise.

As was Robert Bruce. "You wish to marry my best commander in the north?" he asked, incredulous.

"Yes, I do. I know he covets far greater lands, and a great heiress—one greater than myself. But you have given him Nairn and he will have Brodie. And I am certain he will conquer other estates in this war." She did not dare look at Iain now. She was shaking.

Bruce started to laugh. "She has more courage than most men, combined!"

"Yes, she does," Iain said tersely.

"Your mistress wishes to marry you!" Bruce kept laughing.

Alana flushed. Boyd and Hay were as entertained, their smiles wide. Now, she glanced at Iain. He gave her a dark, disbelieving look.

"Mistress Alana, Iain has fought very hard for us," Bruce said. His smile faded. "No matter how much you please him, he would not be pleased with such a small dowry. I have promised him great lands and titles for his service to me."

Her cheeks felt like they were on fire. Alana glanced at Iain. His gaze was unwavering upon her.

"However, I will give a great deal of thought to finding you a proper husband—a strong knight, perhaps, from the south, who is seeking a name here in the north. And you will have Brodie when we choose to take it from Duncan of Frendraught."

Alana trembled with disappointment. She hadn't planned to ask for Iain as a husband, and now she wished she had thought it through. Her cheeks still burned. "Thank you, Your Grace," she said, low.

He waved dismissively at her and sat back down. Alana began to turn away when Iain took her arm, quite forcefully, and pulled her with him from the tent. Just before they stepped outside, Alana stole a glance at him. His profile was hard and tight.

She had been about to ask him if he was angry with her. She gulped down the words. She had to hurry to keep up with him as they hurried through the maze of tents, past several small cook fires. His grip did not ease.

Iain pulled open his tent door, guiding Alana in and stepping in behind her. Meg sat at the small table there on his stool. When they came in, she jumped up, spilling her wine as she did so.

Iain released Alana. "Leave us," he said.

Meg picked up her plaid, flung it about her shoulders and scurried out.

Alana tensed, facing Iain.

He took her furs from her and flung them aside, seizing her shoulders. "So ye want Brodie—and ye want me," he said harshly.

"Iain," she began, intending to try to explain herself and defuse the situation.

But he did not allow her to speak. He pulled her into his arms, kissing her heatedly, tongue to tongue, and then he was pushing her down on the pallet.

* * *

A LANA brAIDED HER hair, glancing into a small looking glass on the table when she was done.

She was amazed by her own appearance. Her skin glowed like pearls, her cheeks were tinged with a pretty flush and her eyes sparkled. For the first time in her life, as she regarded herself, she understood why she was considered a beautiful woman.

She glanced across Iain's tent at his pallet, which was vacant. They had made love several times last night, and she had then fallen asleep in his arms. Exhausted, she had slept well past sunrise, and when she had awoken, Iain had been gone.

Alana walked over to the tent flap and opened it. She stood still and stared out at Bruce's camp.

Because the army was not marching, his soldiers were seated around the various campfires, eating and drinking. A group of men were heading off into the woods on foot, with bows upon their shoulders. She hoped there would be venison that night.

She scanned the camp. Last night, they had not spoken, not even once, about what had happened in Bruce's tent or about anything else.

She remained in some disbelief. King Robert had given her Brodie in exchange for her fealty...even if he had refused to give her Iain.

She had taken sides in this war now.

"So yer awake."

Alana almost jumped out of her skin, not having heard Iain approach from the back side of the tent. She smiled, but nervously. Would they discuss what she had done? Would they speak of her having asked for him in marriage? Would they discuss his eventual marriage to someone else?

His gaze moved slowly over her. "Ye slept well," he said. "After we finished lovemaking, ye did not move once the entire night."

She blushed. "I do not think I have ever slept as deeply." She hesitated. "Are you angry with me?"

"Why would I be angry?" He touched her cheek and winked, lewdly. "Ye ken I am very pleased today."

She blushed again. "You know that is not what I meant."

"I am not angry, Alana."

She did not know if she truly wished to raise the subject of their relationship—and future—now.

"And ye? Are ye pleased? When we take Brodie, ye will be her mistress again."

"I am pleased," she answered. "When will we take Brodie, Iain?"

"Ye lust for power as much as I do."

She did not smile back. "No. I lust for my own power, and for what is mine, by birthright."

"Yer father is a fool, to be led by the nose by his wife, to have abandoned ye. He could have three fine daughters. Instead, he has two."

She started, hurt by his words, because they were the painful truth. "He is weak, Iain."

"'Tis the same to me." He shrugged. Then, "Bruce is moving his army to the west tomorrow. I am taking my men east."

"To Brodie?"

"Aye, Alana, to Brodie."

She found it hard to breathe. "I must come with you. Iain, Godfrey is in command, he is my friend.... Surely I can convince him to surrender to you."

"He will hardly think to surrender, if he learns ye have betrayed his father and Buchan, and that in surrendering, Brodie will become yers."

Alana was aghast. "Surely you are not planning on leaving me here, while you go back to Brodie!"

"War is no place for a woman, even one as bold as ye. I will send ye into the care of my brother, on Islay. Ye will go tomorrow. And I will march for Brodie at dawn. I hope to attack Brodie before anyone ever learns of yer treachery."

Alana was shocked. "I am not going to your brother, and I am not going to Islay! I have to come with you. I cannot allow you to attack and destroy my home!"

"Brodie has no defenses. I can take the castle easily enough. And Alana—ye have no power to allow me anything."

She flinched. "Of course I have no authority to tell you what to do, and what not to do. I can help, Iain. I can persuade Godfrey to surrender without a fight. Why destroy Brodie if you do not have to?"

"Alana. I need to know about Godfrey—and Lady Fitzhugh."

Alana froze. Her grandmother was at Brodie—and she could be held hostage and used against them.

"Would yer friend, Godfrey, hurt yer grandmother?" Iain asked harshly. "He is Duncan's son."

Alana seized his arm to remain standing. "No. Godfrey would not hurt her."

"Then why are ye as white as a corpse?"

"Duncan would use her against us—so would my uncle." She began to shake. "Iain, you cannot attack Brodie while my grandmother is there." Once Buchan learned of her treachery, he would strike at Alana in any way that he could—even if it meant using an old woman to hurt her.

"If Duncan remains in the north, defending Buchan lands, and Buchan is also in the north, we can take Brodie before either man thinks to order Godfrey to hold Lady Fitzhugh."

Alana felt sick. She did not want her grandmother placed in any jeopardy, not now, not ever, even if it meant giving up her dream of recovering Brodie. "Maybe we should leave Brodie for now."

"Is that what ye truly want?"

"I do not want Eleanor hurt!" Tears arose. "When my uncle learns of my betrayal, he will hurt her to hurt me. I have no doubt. He is ruthless and savage, but you know that—you saw what he did to me!"

He pulled her close. In his arms, Alana trembled wildly. "Ye love her greatly, as ye should."

"I love her more than anyone in this entire world, and she is all that I have."

His gaze moved slowly over her features. "Ye have me."

She shook her head. "No. I do not."

"Aye. Truly." He pushed some hair out of her eyes. "If we move swiftly, there is every chance we can take Brodie before the word of yer homage to Bruce is out. And then ye'll have Brodie and yer grandmother will be safe."

"And what if we get to Brodie, and the news is already known to them?"

"Then, Alana, yer grandmother will be in great jeopardy."

They had to take Brodie immediately. "Then your best chance to take Brodie is to have me speak with Godfrey. Please. Do not send me to Islay." She touched his face. "Please, Iain."

He was grim. "Ye have learned how to play me too well."

She had won. Alana felt faint with relief.