Page 5

Fergus nodded. "Good."

"Why, are you a friend of his?"

"I've had dealings with the man, but that's neither here nor there. 'Tis for your sake I am glad."

He refilled Alistair cup and poured for himself. "Drink up, lad, and stop glaring at me. The last thing ye need is murder on your conscience."

"This was not murder. 'Twas justice."

"So you're God himself now, are ye?"

"I am--I was--Lord Ian's foster brother. I was responsible for my men. Now they're all dead, every one of them."

"I ken a great wrong has been done," Fergus said gently, "and not only to Lord Ian and his men."

"And do ye ken you're harboring a banished man?"

"I've heard as much. But what I couldna learn is why ye were banished. They say ye turned traitor to the clan, tried to seize control and drive Lord Jemmy out. Some say ye tried to kill him--or the laird--or both."

"Are ye no' afraid such a desperate character might murder you, as well?"

"In your condition? I think I'll take my chances."

Fergus smiled and tossed a log into the fire. Then he sat down and waited for Alistair to speak.

"I did not turn traitor," Alistair said at last. "Though 'tis true I did my damnedest to drive Jemmy out. He's weak, Fergus, he is not fit to rule--" he broke off, coughing.

"Whisht, lad, sit back. Take it slowly."

Alistair lay back against the sheepskin. "The laird took the notion to make peace with Darnley," he went on at last, "and Jemmy was all in favor of it. Och, I canna blame the laird. He's aged since Ian died. He's not a well man, not in body nor in mind. But Jemmy is a different matter."

"I remember Lord Jemmy," Fergus said mildly. "He used to come here years ago, bring me animals to mend. He seemed a nice lad."

"Nice?" Alistair snorted. "He is a fool. Twelve years he was gone, Fergus, twelve years he spent in Spain. But did that make a difference to our Jemmy? Nay, not him; he walked in and started giving orders as if he'd never been away! He stripped us of our honor, made terms with that murdering bastard Darnley and expected the clan to swallow it without complaint. Aye, I fought him. Someone had to do it. But when it came to the point, the laird sided with his own blood. And so I had to go."

"Off after Darnley with murder in your heart?"

"I would have had him. God's teeth, I was so close. Then he fled to France, the coward."

"So now what, Alistair?"

Alistair leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "I dinna ken," he admitted wearily. "I could not think beyond getting back to Scotland . . ."

"Dinna fash yourself over that. 'Twas what was meant to be. All is well, for ye are here now, just as I saw."

"You saw that I was coming?" Alistair asked drowsily.

"Not exactly...but someone. I'm no' a young man, Alistair. 'Tis time another took up the burden. And here ye are."

"But—"

"Whisht, we'll talk it through tomorrow. But know this: long ago, when ye were but a bairn, I went to the laird and asked that ye come here to be fostered. He refused me. But ye came anyway, did ye no'? It must be the hand of fate."

Alistair wanted to argue, but he was too weary. Tomorrow, he thought. Tomorrow I will tell him that I cannot stay for long. I have to earn some gold, take ship for France, find Darnley...

Even if you could get to France, what then? the voice said in his mind. What hope do you have of finding him when you cannot even speak the tongue? Give it up. You tried, you failed, and there's nothing left to do but join the others now.

"Go on, lad, sleep now," Fergus said. "All will be well now that you are here."