A Sword Upon the Rose

Alana was stunned and dismayed at once. “You have no care for me,” she began.

“Shut up,” Duncan said. He now approached tiny Eleanor. “She has always been your sole concern. Will you not appeal to her great-uncle, on her behalf?”

Eleanor still smiled. “You know me well, Sir Duncan. Alana needs a husband.”

“Alana could be valuable to me, old woman. I need her.”

Alana inhaled. “I have never been valuable to you! Not in the dozen years I have been under your protection at Brodie Castle!”

He approached, smiling coldly. “But we have never been in such danger. The earldom is under attack!”

A terrible silence fell. He suddenly found her valuable because of her sight. “What do you want of me?” she asked. But she knew. This was not about the lie she had told his son. He wished to know about Bruce’s plans—he wished for her to foresee them!

He slowly smiled. He touched her chin with his stout finger. She recoiled inwardly, but did not move. “You begin to please me, at last.... Tell me what you saw the other day.”

She stepped back, and his hand fell away. “I saw a battle, that is all.” Images from her vision—from the battle at Boath Manor—flashed. They competed with every memory she now had of Iain, and of her last glimpse of the manor, burned to the snowy ground.

“No. Godfrey says you saw me triumphant in battle.”

Alana did not dare glance at Eleanor. Her mind raced. She did not want to have any value to Duncan. It had been bad enough being his ward for most of her life, when he mostly ignored her and occasionally lusted for her. If she let him believe she had had a vision about him in battle, he would certainly think her a valuable asset. He might even think her valuable if she told him that she had foreseen the battle at Boath Manor. She could do neither, then.

But she did not want to anger him, either—not if she could avoid it. She decided to try to hedge.

“I saw a battle, and there was both victory and defeat. I cannot be certain you were the victor. It was a confusing sight.”

His face mottled with anger. “That is not what Godfrey claimed. He wrote me and said you saw me triumphant, Alana.” Warning was in his tone. “So think again and do not lie to me.”

“Men were fighting, and I saw Bruce’s flag.” She hesitated. “I think you were there. I do not know anything else.”

“You think I was present? You do not know anything else? You told Godfrey I was victorious!”

“The vision was not clear.”

He was disbelieving. “The vision was not clear? Or you will not tell me about it?”

Eleanor stepped forward. “We are sorry, my lord, truly sorry.”

Alana now regretted ever lying to Godfrey in the first place, and all for spite. But if she had not lied, she would not have been on the road near Boath Manor. Clearly, she had been meant to be on that road, although she still did not know why.

She thought of Iain, of his kiss and knew she must not allow her thoughts to go further.

“Buchan will not be pleased to hear of such a confusing vision,” he spat. He strode to the table and picked up a mug and drained it. Then he slammed it down. It was a moment before he faced her. “I am not pleased. I need details, Alana.”

Dismay flooded her. “Why will you tell my uncle about this small, confusing vision?”

“Why do you think I brought you here? I wish for you to help us! To help me! If your uncle doesn’t know about your visions, then I will be the first to tell him.” Duncan whirled and waved at a maid. “Wine, wench, bring me wine!”

Alana turned away. Did the Earl of Buchan even know that she had the sight?

Would her father have even bothered to mention that his bastard daughter was a witch? She simply did not know.

And what would happen when Buchan arrived? When her father arrived? Duncan now, suddenly, considered her valuable. Until now neither her father nor Buchan had thought about her. Was it possible that would change?

Would her uncle—her father—value her because she was a witch?

She felt no excitement. Instead, Alana wanted to cry.

Eleanor put her arm around her. “My lord, we are both fatigued from such an unusual journey. Could we retire?”

“I am not done with you.” Duncan turned his regard on Alana. “If you hid in the woods near Iain of Islay’s army...did you see him?”

Alana did not know what to say.

“Tell me the truth, Alana. Had you been in the woods, you would have stolen forth to witness the battle—I have no doubt! Well? Surely you would notice him!”

Alana wet her lips, shaken. “Why would you ask?”

“I was told Iain was wounded. There was a great deal of blood. Did you see him bleeding out? If I am very fortunate, he is dead!”

“There was blood everywhere! There were wounded men and the dead!”

Duncan stared angrily. “I think you enjoy lying to me. Well, you will not enjoy it when Nairn falls to those bloodthirsty Highlanders.”

Alana shivered and pulled her wool mantle closer.

“Is he such a terrible enemy, my lord?” her grandmother asked.

Duncan faced her. “Before he was given this army, he was but one more mad Highlander eager to slit our throats in the night. He preyed upon our ships on the western seas. Upon our merchants on the high roads. But that has changed. Bruce has come into the habit of having him advance first in every fray, to secure a path for Bruce’s larger army. He has not been defeated since his cousin provisioned him.” He turned his stare upon Alana, and she glimpsed dread and fear in his eyes. “If he takes Nairn, none of us will survive.”

Alana finally spoke, but thickly, “Is a peace possible?”

“No.” Duncan was vehement. “Bruce intends to be king—just as he intends to destroy the earldom of Buchan.”

And it seemed as if he was succeeding. The greater ramifications of the war began to sink in. Buchan destroyed, Brodie lost, her uncle and father hanged as traitors...

“If Nairn is attacked—if any of my castles are attacked—I will instruct my archers to place all their attention upon any man who resembles Iain of Islay.” Duncan was final.

Alana was aghast. Duncan hoped to assassinate Iain? Eleanor quickly put her arm around her. “We should go up,” her grandmother murmured.

But Duncan walked over to her and rudely clasped her shoulder. His grip was hard, and Alana was forced to meet his gaze, as she could hardly get free.

“Buchan will be here tomorrow,” he said. “By tomorrow, I expect you to have the answers you did not have today.”

“I have told you everything.”

“Have you?”

“I cannot tell you what I do not know.”