by Brenda Joyce
“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.
* * *
ALANA 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 ca
nnot 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.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Brodie Castle—January, 1308
ALANA’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.