He gave a cold laugh. “Robert the Bruce’s man?”
Dread filled her as her mind clattered with horrified understanding. “Where is Comyn?”
“By now,” he said with vile satisfaction, “he has surrounded Dair Castle.”
“You killed King Robert’s man,” she charged.
“Nae until he told us where you were.” A smirk crawled along his mouth. “I was impressed by his loyalty, but there are inventive ways to make a man talk, some more pleasurable than others.”
Bile rose in her throat. She had to warn Thomas! Heart pounding, she stepped back.
With lightning speed, the man caught her wrist.
The flare of panic darkened to fury. Despising this man, all he represented, with a flick of her wrist, hersgian dubhfell into her palm. “This is for the man you tortured.” She slashed the blade across his hand clasped on her arm.
Shock widened the man’s eyes as he cried out.
“And this,” she rasped, “is for torturing and killing a man for my father’s cause.” She drove the dagger deep into his heart. As he slumped against the sheets, his blood dripping to the floor, Alesone sheathed her dagger and bolted toward the keep. God in heaven, she had to warn the duke!
Chapter Eighteen
Heart slamming against her chest, Alesone shoved open the hewn door, bolted into the war chamber. “’Tis a trap!” she yelled. “’Tis Sir Iames MacCheine. He isna the Bruce’s man, but Comyn’s.”
Chairs scraped as Thomas, his father, and brother shoved to their feet. The other knights in the large chamber turned to face her.
The duke’s eyes narrowed. “Explain.”
“When I entered to care for the knight,” Alesone replied, damning Sir Iames with her every breath, “I recognized him.”
Thomas unsheathed his dagger. “God’s teeth, I will slay the bastard!”
“He is already dead.” She angled her jaw. “When he realized that I knew who he was, he grabbed me. I drove my dagger into his heart.”
Satisfaction settled on the duke’s face. “Tell us all you know.”
“The king’s man was tortured to gain information, and then killed,” she explained, temper riding her voice. “Sir Iames was sent with the Bruce’s missive to buy Comyn and his men time while they surround Dair Castle.
Thomas’s face drained of color as he sheathed his blade. “God’s teeth, Sir John MacLairish left earlier this day with a missive to update the king.”
Line’s furrowed Donnchadh’s brow. “Do you think he slipped past Comyn’s men?”
“I pray so,” Thomas replied.
Expression grim, the Duke of Westwyck eyed the men. “We must immediately—”
The ringing of the tower bell fractured his words.
Shouts of an attack blared within the castle.
“To your posts!” The duke ran for the door, Donnchadh at his side, and his warriors hurrying in their wake.
With the press of men rushing past, his expression fierce, Thomas caught Alesone’s hand. “Gather your bow and arrows. Meet me on the southern side of the wall walk.”
Calls for reinforcements echoed in the castle, and fear tore through her. “Thomas, I love you,” Alesone blurted out, the urgency of the moment making the heartfelt words tumble upon the other. “I needed to tell you in case—”
“Your father willna take you!” He caught her mouth in a hard kiss. “We must join the others, but know this, our discussion on what exists between us is far from through.”
Alesone opened her mouth to speak, but Thomas joined the rush of men running toward their stations, the mix of warriors quickly smothering him from her view.
