He glanced at Rhian, and she turned away as if she pretended not to listen.
“When ye spoke wi’ Moira MacBeith, did ye tell her Saerla’s life would no’ be forfeit?”
“Eh?” Leith blinked at him. “Why would I do that?”
“Because ’tis true. I ha’ no intention o’ taking her life.”
Rhian spun around and faced him. Her eyes went wide.
“B-but…” Leith said, “that was no’ my understanding. Neither was it Moira’s. She believes she has but days to save her sister’s life.”
Rhian rushed up to them. “Ye do no’ intend to kill her? But ye hauled her out onto that sward and put a knife to her throat!”
“Aye. Things ha’ changed since then.”
Her blue eyes narrowed. “Changed how?”
“I ha’ rethought the wisdom o’ taking her life.”
“Och, God,” Rhian breathed. She swayed, and Leith put an arm around her. “Och, God!”
Reaching out, she seized Rory’s forearm. “Ye maun tell Moira this. She will be in agony thinking she has left Saerla to die.”
“But, mistress, that is just what Saerla’s letter begged Moira to do.”
Rhian, stricken, fell silent.
“Rory,” Leith said. “Rhian is right. Ye maun be the one to tell Moira ye ha’ removed the sentence o’ death from that lassie’s head. Let me write a letter to Farlan.”
“So ye and Farlan can scheme against me? As ye did when ye were there at MacBeith?”
Leith’s expression went tight. “I—and he—seek only for a resolution that will prevent an unholy battle, one in which those we love may well fall.”
“That is where ye be wrong, Leith. Thereneedsto be an unholy battle. Since Moira MacBeith will no’ surrender her lands to me even to buy her sister’s life, there needs to be a battle in which she goes down to defeat.” Into Leith’s face he declared, “It needs to be done and over, once and for all.”
“And if ye lose this grand battle?” It was not Leith who asked the question but Rhian. “The great Rory MacLeod, ye ha’ no’ won a battle against my sister yet.”
“’Twill come, Mistress Rhian. It must. It is my destiny.”
That made the two of them exchange a look. “It isadestiny,” Rhian returned, less aggressively now. “As Saerla herself always says, destiny opens paths before us. It’s we who maun choose among them.”
Saerla. The very sound of her name started up a powerful longing.
“Excuse me,” he told them. “I ha’ somewhere to be.” Or so he hoped.
Again, Rhian caught his arm. “Saerla kens ye do no’ mean to kill her?”
“She does.”
That seemed to strike Rhian hard, and render her silent.
Rory went straight from Leith’s quarters to his own. No guard stood there. Nor was there a bar on the door. It struckhim that Saerla could have walked away any time this afternoon. Returned home. To the light.
She must, however, remain still inside. Someone among the guard would have told him otherwise. The question that possessed his mind was:
Why?
He stood there trying to keep himself from knocking at that door. He paced the corridor; he turned and paced again. She had told him it would not be a good idea for him to return here tonight, and he agreed. He fought impulse and desire alike.
