Chapter Eleven

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Brodie Castle —January, 1308

A LANA ' S HEART SURGED as they crested the ridge, finally reaching its flat topmost plateau. Brodie Castle sat on the adjacent hill. It was such a welcome sight.

Iain raised his hand, halting the dozen warriors who accompanied them. The rest of his army was hidden in the forest below them.

He glanced at her and she smiled at him, her heart racing. Once Godfrey surrendered, she would be mistress of Brodie. She would have her home back.

It remained incredible. But she had paid dearly for Brodie. She was now committed to Robert Bruce and his triumph, and not because of the act of homage she had had to perform. Bruce had to conquer Scotland. He had to defeat Buchan. Otherwise she would be taken from Brodie the moment Buchan could attack it and seize her.

She had arrived at Bruce's camp on Slioch Mountain just ten fateful days ago. How her life had changed, as she had not even dreamed it would. And while she was Iain's lover, and she shared his tent as well as his bed, they had never discussed the appeal she had made to Bruce, or his eventual marriage to another woman one day.

She would survive, because Brodie was hers now.

"The snow has melted," Iain said, breaking the silence of the afternoon.

A January thaw was not uncommon. Patches of snow covered the tops of the ridge they rode upon, and the adjacent terrain, but the ground was mostly mud otherwise. Alana knew what he was thinking—she knew him so well now. It was far easier to attack one's enemy in the snow than in the mud. "You will not have to attack. I will make certain of it."

He smiled at her. "Ye have the determination of a queen."

"That is high praise, indeed."

"Ye have changed, Alana, since we first met. Ye were a young, untried girl then. I sometimes see that girl, but mostly, I see a proud, headstrong woman."

"So much has happened. I hope the changes you have seen are pleasing to you."

"Ye are pleasing to me." He was final. "We have four hours till dusk. Let us go."

Alana nodded, her nerves high. So much depended upon her efforts to persuade Godfrey now. Iain lifted his hand and they started down the steep western side of the ridge, traversing it upon a deer path. It was rocky, partly frozen and partly mud, and the going was slow and difficult.

It took an hour to reach the glen below, and another half an hour to begin the small ascent to Brodie's front gates, which were barred and closed. The walls seemed empty, too. But when they were almost within calling distance of Brodie's watchtower, her bells began to ring.

"Yer watch is poor," Iain observed. The bells tolled loudly and shrilly now. "The watch should have remarked us well before this."

Godfrey's soldiers appeared on the castle walls. Iain continued on, Alana beside him, two dozen Highlanders behind them.

And then they were close enough for her to see Godfrey take up a place on the walls, amidst his men. His fair hair was unmistakable. Iain signaled his men to halt.

"I should ride forward, alone," Alana said, removing her hood. She wanted Godfrey to recognize her.

"Ye will do no such thing," Iain returned.

"His archers will try to strike you," Alana said sharply with fear.

"Is he that much of a fool?" Iain asked. "I am approaching his gates with a handful of men. He does not know my army lies in wait in the forest. And I am bringing ye with me. He cannot be so stupid, Alana, as to fire the first shot without asking my business, first."

Godfrey wasn't a fool, and he was committed to Brodie. He would probably want to speak with Iain before taking any aggressive action that might have terrible consequences for him.

She glanced behind them. Iain's banner was flying in the wind, but so was a white flag of truce. She was surprised. She hadn't realized he would raise such a flag.

Iain spurred his stallion forward and Alana followed him on her red mare. She heard the strings of numerous bows being pulled taut against ready arrows, the sound sharp and high, like a violin striking the wrong note. She looked up at the archers on the walls. Every man there was aiming their arrows down at them.

And behind them, steel screamed as all of Iain's men drew their swords.

"Do ye not see our white flag?" Iain demanded loudly, halting his horse. But he was angry, and the charger whirled nervously.

"Identify yourself!" Godfrey cried, leaning over the wall. His face was white.

"I am Iain of Islay, and yer father's ward, Alana le Latimer, is with me. Have yer archers stand down!" Iain ordered. Lower, he said, "Stay behind me. He may be a fool after all."

Alana ignored him. Godfrey was stunned and he seemed stricken, even indecisive, and she spurred her mare forward, past Iain. "Godfrey! We must speak!"

"Alana?" Godfrey cried, peering down at her, turning whiter.

Iain rode up to her and seized her reins, giving her a furious look. Then, to Godfrey, "Come down and parley with us. Bring three of yer knights if ye must."

Godfrey was incredulous. Alana knew he had not heard of her treachery—and he could not comprehend why she was with Iain. He could not imagine what they wanted, either. In that moment, she felt sorry for him, and ashamed of what she must do.

"I am not leaving Brodie," Godfrey finally said. He turned to his soldiers and archers. "No one is to fire, unless I give the command."

The bows groaned as the tension in each weapon was released. The archers replaced their arrows in their quivers. Alana took a deep breath, hoping to never look up at so many archers ready to shoot at her again.

Iain signaled his men, and steel rang again as they sheathed their weapons.

"Alana," Godfrey cried. "Are you all right?"

This time, she glanced at Iain for permission. He nodded, and she moved a few strides closer to the wall. "I am fine, Godfrey, considering the circumstance I find myself in."

Godfrey stared down at her, his face taut. "You vanished from Brodie! We feared you were abducted! And then we realized you had taken a horse and ridden away with one of Seamus's sons. Why, Alana?" His blue gaze veered wildly to Iain. "Seamus claims he does not know your affairs! He is so loyal to you!"

She trembled. "You will find out soon enough. I am with Iain now, Godfrey."

He stared blankly at her, clearly not understanding.

"I love him," she said. "And I am sorry."

He cried out, shocked. "What are you speaking about? You cannot love him! You do not even know him! He freed you from the tower at Nairn—you could not have spoken with him more than a time or two. He was there but a day, not even!"

Alana did not glance at Iain. Oddly, as much as she loved Iain, she felt ashamed now. She had violated her family's trust. "Does it matter? Godfrey, I am here to help. Robert Bruce gave Iain Nairn."

Godfrey was shaking. "Nairn? Nairn is in ashes! And yes, it matters, Alana!"

She was holding her reins so tightly now that her mare tossed its head in protest. She relaxed her grasp. "Godfrey! King Robert has decided to take Brodie after all. I begged Iain to let me come and speak with you! I do not want to see you or the men here hurt. Please, Godfrey, he will attack and take Brodie by force, unless you surrender."

Godfrey gaped at her.

He was shocked, more so than she had predicted. She looked at Iain. "I need to speak with him privately."

His eyes widened. "Ye will not go in there by yerself! He will never let ye leave, and then I will not be able to attack!"

"He will not hurt me, Iain." She faced Godfrey. "Godfrey? Can I come inside to speak with you—as your friend? I do not want anyone to die today!"

Godfrey's face was a mask of shock, anguish and anger. He nodded.

Iain seized her shoulder. "No. Godfrey!" he shouted. "I command Nairn, and I will command Brodie, too. I will not allow Alana to go inside. Surrender Brodie and avoid great bloodshed today. Otherwise, I will attack."

Alana did not know what to do. She felt certain if she could speak privately with Godfrey, as difficult as it would be, she could convince him to surrender.

Godfrey was shaking. "You are with him now? Is it true?"

Alana wet her lips and nodded. "We are lovers," she said.

Godfrey turned red. "God! So did you ride off into the night to be with him? Is that what happened, Alana? You chose your lover over me? Over Brodie? Over your family? "

"I still care about Brodie the way that you do," she began.

"Liar!" Godfrey shouted. "You rode off to be with him after, what? One night at Nairn?" He was furious.

Alana was not going to discuss her relationship with Iain. "You know how I feel about Brodie," she cried.

"Do I? I thought I did! I thought I knew you! The woman I knew would never hand Brodie over to the enemy!"

Iain wasn't her enemy, yet she did not dare say so. Nor did she dare tell him the truth—that the moment he surrendered, Brodie would be hers.

"Godfrey!" Iain shouted. "I am losing my patience, and my men will attack at dawn if ye do not surrender."

Godfrey looked wildly at Iain, with panic and fear.

"Godfrey!" Alana said. "I am begging you! Iain will attack and he will destroy Brodie if he has to. You know that is his way. He will have Brodie, even in ashes, just as he now has Nairn. So please. Surrender to him."

Godfrey looked at his archers and suddenly every bow was drawn again, the dozens of arrows pointing at her. Alana froze as she heard Iain's men unsheath their swords.

"Don't fight," Alana cried. "You are my friend! I do not want you to die!"

A terrible silence fell. The only sound to be heard was the horses blowing, their bits jangling, their saddles creaking.

Iain broke it. "My army is in the woods. I am three hundred strong. Ye have thirty-five men."

Godfrey gave Alana a disbelieving look. She winced. He straightened and stepped back from the crenellations. He did not look at Alana now. His voice rough, he said, "Open the gates."

* * *

A LANA RUSHED INSIDE Brodie's great hall behind Iain and forty or fifty of his men. It was several hours later. Iain's army now surrounded the castle, while his men were occupying the walls.

Godfrey was sitting at the table there, his hands clasped upon it, staring in a strange, almost horrified manner at the hall's threshold. A handful of serving maids stood behind him, each one ashen and afraid. As Alana entered, she finally saw Eleanor, who came rushing toward her from the shadows.

Alana hugged her grandmother hard. "I have been so worried about you," Eleanor said.

Alana smiled through tears of relief. "I am fine."

Eleanor took a good look at her. Clearly, her grandmother could see that she was pleased and well.

Iain had paused before Godfrey, who did not stand up. "Ye have done the right thing, Godfrey." He flung his fur cloak aside, one hand on the hilt of his sword, his posture commanding and aggressive.

Godfrey made a derisive sound. "So you will not take me prisoner?" He was mocking and angry. Now he finally looked past Iain at Alana.

"When yer ransom is paid, ye will be released." Iain also turned to look at her.

Alana's cheeks were hot. There was no avoiding what must happen next. She slowly approached Godfrey. "Iain? I must speak with Godfrey. Alone."

Iain's gaze narrowed. "Ye may speak with him as much as ye like. But he is very angry now, and he will be under guard until his ransom is paid."

"You will not let me speak with him alone?" Alana was incredulous.

Godfrey spat, "So that is the lover you have chosen?"

Alana trembled as Iain gave him a warning look. "Ye can hold yer tongue and speak pleasantly and remain here, with yer guard, or ye can be put in the dungeons with the rest of yer men."

Alana was not going to allow Godfrey to be put in the dungeons! They had not even discussed his capture. And what of all of Brodie's men? She was expecting them to pledge their allegiance to her—not to become prisoners of war or worse.

"Who is yer sergeant of arms?" Iain demanded.

Godfrey folded his arms. "Roger de Foret."

Iain turned and ordered his soldiers to bring him de Foret. "I am going to inspect our defenses," he said. "Angus, guard Godfrey. If he gives ye trouble of any kind, send him below."

Angus was a middle-aged Highlander who was taller than Iain, his face rudely scarred, his gray beard so long that it reached his chest. He looked as if he had been at war his entire life. "Is that necessary, Iain?" Alana asked.

"He is the enemy, Alana." He signaled a handful of the men in the room to join him, and he left.

"Are you pleased with yourself? Does betrayal suit you?" Godfrey asked.

Alana jerked. "I do not expect you to understand."

"You have stabbed me in the back. You have stabbed your father and Buchan in the back. My God, Buchan will kill you for this."

Alana trembled as Eleanor put her arm around her. Her grandmother did not speak, and she knew Eleanor agreed with Godfrey on his last point. But then, so did Alana.

"Why, Alana? Why? And do not tell me that you love that Highlander! No one forsakes their entire family for love!" Godfrey cried.

Alana sank down on the bench not far from him. "I do love him. I have never loved a man before." She had forsaken her family for love, she thought, Godfrey's word having a chilling effect. Yet Iain would one day be with another woman.

Godfrey began shaking his head. "I thought you were amenable to marriage to me. God, I am a fool!"

Alana shivered, rubbing her arms, wondering suddenly if she was the fool. "We are friends now. It is not the same."

"Not the same as lovers?" He stood abruptly, causing her to leap up, as well. Angus drew his sword.

Godfrey raised his hands high, indicating he meant no harm. "And will you marry him, Alana? Is that it? You will marry him and become mistress here?"

Tears arose. "I will not marry him, that much has been made clear...but I am mistress here."

Godfrey dropped his hands. "What?"

"I am sorry," she whispered.

"What?" he roared.

Angus seized his arm.

"Bruce has given me my home," she said. "The home that was my mother's. It is to be my dowry.... I am mistress of Brodie now."

"Bitch!" He screamed. "You have gone over to Bruce? Bitch!"

Angus began to drag him away. "Ye'll sleep below tonight, my English lord."

Godfrey struggled uselessly against the larger man. "I am not English, you savage ass! What did you do, Alana? And why? Why?" He was screaming, tears running down his face.

"Bruce will be king," she gasped, and she realized she was crying, too. "Please, Angus, unhand him, we are only talking!"

"Iain said he is to go to the dungeons if he causes trouble," Angus spat.

"He is not causing me harm," Alana said. Godfrey laughed again, without mirth.

"And what will your lover think when he learns the truth about you?"

He meant to tell Iain about her sight? A weight dropped within Alana's chest. "Godfrey!" She rushed to him. "There is no reason to say anything!"

"No reason? You have stabbed me in the back! You have stolen Brodie from me!"

"Don't do this," she begged. "We are friends."

"Friends? Friends do not betray one another! Friends do not steal from one another!"

"Brodie was stolen from me!" Alana cried. "From me!"

Iain stepped back into the hall, saying, "The whole castle can hear ye screaming at one another." He was dark. He looked back and forth between them, with suspicion.

Alana stared silently at Godfrey, begging him with her eyes to keep her secret.

His gaze filled with tears, Godfrey stared back. Then he turned to Iain. "Do you not want to know the truth about her?"

Iain glanced at Alana. She felt her gaze becoming moist, and she turned away, sinking back down onto the bench. Eleanor sat beside her and took her hand.

"What is he speaking of, Alana?" Iain asked, very quietly.

Alana made a helpless gesture. "There is something," she began. She choked. How could she tell him? Images flashed in her mind, of times when he had looked at her with warmth, with affection, with lust or with admiration...and too many images then followed, rapidly, of other men, staring at her with horror, in fear, repulsed.

"She is a witch," Godfrey said.

Iain started, glancing at Godfrey.

"Your lover is a witch. Everyone knows. Ask anyone."

Iain seemed amused. He turned to Alana, who trembled, sick with desperation, her gaze glued to his. His amusement vanished. Puzzled, he said, "Alana? What does he speak of?"

She hugged herself. "He is telling you the truth."

"What?"

"I have the sight, Iain. I am a witch."

He stared at her for a long moment. Then he said, "Everyone leave us."

* * *

A N ETERNITY SEEMED to go by then, as everyone left the hall, Angus pulling Godfrey with him, Eleanor shooting Alana a worried glance, as she, too, got up and left. When they were all gone, Alana remained seated on the bench at the table, alone. Iain stood before her, his stance braced, one hand on the hilt of one sword. The only sound to be heard in the chamber was the hiss and crackle of the fire and Alana's heavy breathing.

"I dinna understand," Iain finally said.

How calm he sounded. Alana bit her lip, fighting tears. She had dreaded this day since meeting him. "I can see," she whispered.

"If ye were not so frightened, I'd think this a jest."

She shook her head.

"What do ye mean, exactly, that ye have the sight?" His knuckles turned white.

"I have visions...of the future...sometimes."

He made a disparaging sound, his gaze fixated upon her. "No one can see the future."

"I can."

Another silence fell. A log fell in the fire, popping and hissing. "Ye only think ye can see, Alana." He was firm. "'Tis impossible."

He did not want to believe her. She was almost relieved. She was so tempted to let him continue to think as he was doing—but they were at Brodie, and everyone knew of her visions. "My father gave me a small dowry when I was fifteen. But everyone here in Buchan knows the truth, and the real reason I am not wed is because of my power," she said hoarsely. "No one would have me, not even with my dower lands."

He continued to stare, his eyes wide and hard, his expression becoming aggrieved. "I dinna believe ye," he finally said. "No one can see. "

She shrugged helplessly. "I have had visions since I was a child of five or six."

Another terrible silence passed, in which neither moved. "What have you seen?" he finally asked.

She rubbed her cold arms. "I saw you, Iain, before we ever met, in battle at Boath Manor."

"What?" he exclaimed.

"I saw every detail of the battle days before it happened. I saw your Highlanders battling Duncan's soldiers, I saw the manor burning, I saw you rescue Mistress MacDuff and her children. I even saw that red-haired Highlander try to stab you in the back."

"I dinna believe ye," he said again, but with less certainty.

She could drop the subject, she thought, but the doubt was there, in his eyes, along with confusion and a determination to ferret out the truth. "When Eleanor and I were on our way to Nairn and we came upon the battle, I knew what was going to happen. So yes, I did shout at you in warning."

"I heard ye," he said, his mouth turned down. "But why did ye rush to me when I was stabbed? Why?"

"I don't know why. I had to help you. I was terrified you were hurt, or that you would die!" She started to cry into her hands.

"Do not cry now," he warned. He started to pace, wildly, with confusion and growing anger. Alana fought her sobs, but it was impossible. Her heart was breaking. He whirled to face her, seizing her wrists, and removing her hands from her face. "Yer tears will not move me, Alana," he warned. "Why did ye help me? Why? Was there more to yer vision?"

"I don't know why I helped you! It was as if I loved you already, I was that frightened for you!" she cried.

He shook her once and released her. "Ye couldn't have loved me then. Were ye looking for me? Were ye sent to look for me?"

He was so suspicious, again! "My uncle sent for me, but no one knew of that vision except for Eleanor."

He absorbed that. Then, "What other powers do ye have?"

She stiffened. "None."

"I dinna believe ye! God—or the devil—gave ye but one power?" His blue eyes were wild now. "Have ye cast a spell on me?"

She gasped. "Of course not!"

"Because I have been bewitched, from the time we first met! Did ye cast a spell on Godfrey? He is smitten with ye! On Bruce? Who so easily gave ye Brodie, who so quickly allowed me to march on it?"

Alana staggered to her feet, reaching for him. He swiped her hands away. "Iain, I cannot cast spells! My only power is the sight!"

He stared at her for many moments. "Ye need to go to yer chamber, Alana," he finally said. "I'll send for ye when I am ready to speak with ye again."

"Nothing has changed!"

He sent her a dark look. "Everything has changed."

* * *

A LANA WENT INTO Eleanor's arms as Angus shut the door upon them. She closed her eyes tightly and fought the incessant tears. She had expected Iain's anger, but she had not expected him to think that she had used witchcraft on him.

"It will be all right, Alana," Eleanor said.

"Will it? He is furious, and he has sent me away! He thinks I cast a spell on him, to make him want me! And have we been locked up again? Are we Iain's prisoners?"

Eleanor stroked her hair. "You had to tell him. He was going to find out. And it is who you truly are."

"But I didn't tell him, because I have been a coward." She wiped her eyes and stood, thinking of how Iain had told her she was brave. Now he knew that truth, too! "Godfrey told him—to spite me—and I do not blame him." Her heart sank with more dismay. Poor Godfrey. Had he come to truly care about her? "I have hurt everyone."

"You never meant to hurt anyone. You found love when you have been treated like a leper your entire life. You had Brodie returned to you, when it should have never been taken away. You have done nothing wrong, Alana."

Alana did not believe her. She felt as if she had betrayed everyone, and for what purpose? For the sake of having Brodie returned to her? To spend a few nights in her lover's arms?

She walked to the door and tested it. To her surprise, it was not bolted, and when she opened it, no guard stood there.

She sighed in relief. At least Iain was not keeping her prisoner...yet.

"I eavesdropped on you," Eleanor said, patting the place beside her on the bed. Alana returned and sat down at her side, and they held hands. "He is shocked, as he should be. And he is angry. But the shock and the anger will pass."

"He is filled with suspicion again. He is filled with doubt, when it was so hard to win his trust. And he sent me away." She trembled, a knife stabbing through her heart.

"I heard an angry, shocked man in the hall tonight, a man trying to sort through his own confusion, a man trying to comprehend you. A man who wanted to understand."

"What are you saying, Gran?"

"Was he horrified? Frightened of you?"

She was afraid to have any hope, but she had not seen horror or fear on Iain's face. "No."

"You must give him some time, to realize what you truly are—a wonderful woman with a power that is at times a gift, and at other times, a curse."

Her grandmother was the wisest person she had ever met. "Gran, do you think he might come to accept me as I am?"

"I think he is different from other men, Alana."

Iain was different. The fourth and youngest son of a Highland lord, he was intelligent, shrewd and ambitious. He was powerful, and not just as a soldier. He was ruthless, but he could be kind. He was, truly, exceptional.

Alana shook herself free of her fanciful thoughts, her fanciful hope. "Even if he could accept me, he will marry someone else. I asked Bruce for Iain as a husband, and I was refused. Bruce has made it clear that Iain will have a great heiress for his loyalty, and Iain has been as clear that he expects as much."

"There are worse fates than being a beloved mistress." Eleanor smiled and touched her hair.

"I am not beloved now, Gran."

"Are you certain?"

Did her grandmother think that Iain loved her? Alana was unable to speak, when a knock sounded on the door. "Enter," her grandmother said.

The door was pushed open. Iain stood there on the threshold, staring at Alana, unsmiling and grim.

Her heart surged and she slowly stood up.

"Lady Fitzhugh, would you leave us?" Iain asked. But it was not a question, even if his tone was polite.

Eleanor hugged Alana once, and said to Iain, "She is precious to me—and to you, I suspect." With that thinly veiled warning, she left.

Iain closed the door but did not step any farther into the room. "So ye have had visions since ye were a child," he said quietly.

Her gaze riveted to his, she nodded. "Yes."

"Visions, not dreams?"

"Visions," she said hoarsely. Would they now calmly discuss her ability to see?

"What kind of visions? How often do ye have them?"

Dismay began. Was this an effort on his part to comprehend her—or to avail himself of her power? "I have never had a vision that is pleasing. I only foresee tragedy, bloodshed and death."

He flinched.

"They happen when I least expect it," she continued, "and when I am fully awake, and always, when I have glanced into a body of water."

"When ye look into water?"

"I could look into a puddle of water, or a lake, and suddenly I am dizzy and faint, and then I am inside my own vision, as if it is really happening." She wrung her hands. "I am always sick afterwards. Why do you ask me this, Iain?"

"We have been sleeping together since December, and suddenly I learn you are a witch, with the power of sight. I am not to ask questions?"

She could not decide what he truly wished to gain. She shrugged, indicating he could ask what he wished.

"How often do ye see the future? Once a month? Once a year?"

"It varies. A few times a year, perhaps."

"And do the visions always come true?"

She nodded without hesitation. "Yes, Iain—always."

He stared now, silently, still standing by the closed door.

He finally said, "Ye said ye saw the battle for Boath Manor a few days before it happened. Is it always that way? Do yer visions come true so swiftly?"

"No. It might be weeks or even months before my vision is reality." She thought of the visions she had so recently had, of the destruction of Buchan's earldom, of her father's death, of Iain about to be slain by her uncle.... "It has never been more than a few months," she whispered.

He was grim, wary even, but he no longer seemed angry. He was thoughtful. She knew Iain well now. He was trying to understand her abilities. If he also meant to use her in this war, it was not clear.

Until he spoke next. "What other visions have ye had, Alana, of the war—of me?"

She hugged herself, dismayed. "Is this why you have sought me out? To ask me about the war?"

He shot her a puzzled glance. "If ye have seen the future of the war, I must know."

"That is why my uncle locked me up, Iain, the first time. He wanted me to have visions for him. That is why he summoned me to Nairn. And when he learned I cannot whistle a tune and sing a tale of the future upon command, he locked me in the tower—with a large clear bowl of water. I was not to be released until I had a vision." She knew she sounded bitter. "I cannot see when someone asks me to! I cannot summon up a vision like one orders a maid to the kitchen!"

"I am not surprised yer uncle wanted a vision from ye," Iain said. "What happened?"

"Do you condone what he did?" she cried, standing. "Will you lock me up with a bowl of water, until I have a vision for you?"

"Have I locked ye up?"

She was shaking wildly. "I don't know. I feel like a prisoner!"

His eyes flashed. "There was no guard outside, and ye damn well ken, just as ye ken the door was unlocked."

She shook her head fiercely. "I have been shunned my entire life because of my visions. Shunned, outcast—feared! And then, with this damned war, my uncle suddenly cares for me! And my father visits, as suddenly, when I have not seen him since I was five! Suddenly, I am important to them! Suddenly, I am a beloved niece, a beloved daughter!"

"So ye feel sorry for yerself?"

She realized she was mired in self-pity. But she nodded. "Right now, I feel very sorry for myself!" she cried, fists clenched. "For a while, with you, I was an ordinary woman!"

His mouth curled slightly. He shifted off of the door. "Alana, even without the power, yer no ordinary woman."

"You took me as a lover, because I was ordinary! No man has ever wanted me, until you."

His gaze narrowed. "Then they are all fools."

What did that mean? Was it possible that he did not fear her now?

He looked away from her for the first time, staring at his booted feet. "Buchan and Sir Alexander would want ye close. It makes sense. They'd be the fools otherwise. And if they thought to manipulate ye by their sudden affection, it was up to ye, Alana, to realize the ploy."

He did not understand how hurtful that was.

He glanced sidelong at her. "What happened at Nairn? Did ye have a vision, as Buchan wished? Is that why he beat ye? To make certain ye'd see for him?"

"I had a vision, finally," she whispered. "But it was not the vision Buchan wanted, and he was furious with me—enough so to beat me and lock me up."

"What did ye see?"

She sat down. Iain wanted to know about her visions, just as Buchan and Sir Alexander had. In a way, it hurt, but not as badly, because she wanted to help him if she could, to keep him safe. Yet she did not want to be used by him, not now, not ever.

"I have seen Buchan defeated, his earldom in rubble and ashes, destroyed, Bruce's flag flying high in the sky." She looked up. "Bruce wins. My uncle is destroyed."

Iain's eyes were wide. He suddenly came and sat down beside her on the bed. "My God," he said. "And ye told all of this to yer uncle?"

She nodded, wiping a stray tear from her cheek, looking at her lap. "I was praying he would take such information and defend the earldom.... He was furious instead, and he beat me and locked me up."

Iain laid his hand on her shoulder. "I am sorry for that, Alana."

Their shoulders, arms and hips touched as they sat side by side on the small bed. And for one moment, the sensation of his large, powerful male body against hers was acute and so familiar to her.

"When will Bruce triumph over Buchan?"

"I don't know," she said. "It seemed to be springtime...there was a little melting snow left on the ground." She studied him carefully now. He was elated. She could feel his thoughts racing. Then he realized her close regard, and he glanced at her, smiling slightly.

She was in disbelief. "You don't fear me, at all?"

He stood, towering over her. "Should I fear ye, Alana?"

"No!"

His gaze was narrow now. "If this is the only power ye have, then I do not fear ye."

He had asked her if she could cast spells, worried she had bewitched him, and even Bruce. "I cannot cast spells, Iain. I am not that kind of witch."

He studied her. "And what of yer other visions?"

"There have only been two," she said. "I saw my father dead. He is going to die, Iain."

He absorbed that. "I ken ye care for Sir Alexander, even now, although I cannot comprehend why. And the other vision?"

"You must be on guard. Buchan will come up behind you, his sword raised—he will be a moment away from killing you."

After a pause, he asked, "Does he succeed?"

"I don't know," she whispered.

Iain finally turned away from her, his expression thoughtful. Alana knew he was done—that he meant to leave the room. She wanted to call him back, but she did not know what she would then say. She wanted to ask him to come to her later, to sleep with her, as they had been doing every night. But she was afraid he would refuse.

Mostly, she wanted to know what the truth really meant to him. But she was terrified of that answer.

"It must be difficult, Alana, to have such a power," Iain suddenly said. "But it is useful—very useful." And he left.