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Alistair stared, too surprised to speak.

"He's no' the man to take my place. You were, but I wouldna see it. Jemmy cares nothing for the clan—he showed his colors when he married her. Ye were right, Alistair—"

"No," Alistair said numbly.

"—Jemmy doesna belong here. All the knights are against him. His fault. His damnable pride. He doesna have the first idea how to hold them all together."

But it isn't Jemmy's fault, Alistair thought. It's mine. I'm the one who set them all against him.

"Laird—"

"God knows I tried to put things right, but he wouldn't listen. He never listens. He cares for nothing but the woman. Och, I canna blame her overmuch—'tis Jemmy who should have known better than to keep her here."

It's no wonder he kept her, Alistair thought with sudden understanding. Who else did he have?

"Jemmy isn't the one to blame. It's me."

"Whisht, don't be taking it all on yourself. The thing with Darnley—aye, we disagreed on that, but still, ye acted according to your honor."

"You don't know what I did," Alistair said desperately. "'Twas I who turned the knights against Jemmy—he never had a chance—"

Gawyn waved a hand. "I know that you're the man to follow me, and then Malcolm after. If it means war wi' Darnley, then so be it. Just return the boy, Alistair, that's all I ask. Send Haddon home again before it starts. Can ye do that for me? Can ye promise not to hurt him?"

"I—of course, I wouldn't hurt the lad," Alistair said, revolted at the thought.

Did the laird actually think he was a danger to a child? He did, he must, or he would never ask such a thing. But even believing that, he would still hand Alistair leadership of the clan.

If the laird had time to worry for Haddon Darnley, surely he'd had time to consider Jemmy's safety. Yet not a word, not a single promise had he exacted for the sake of his own son.

He's dying, Alistair reminded himself. He doesn't know what he is saying. Else he would never leave Jemmy at my mercy this way. He kens too well how it's always been between us. Why, for all he knows, I'd slit Jemmy's throat before the funeral was over!

Gawyn lay back with an exhausted sigh, his eyes sunken in his ashen face. "I couldna die until I saw ye home again. It broke my heart, sending ye away. Did ye ken that?"

"Aye, I know. I know ye didn't want to. I made ye do it. But it was for the best."

"Where did ye go?"

"To Fergus."

Gawyn closed his eyes. "Another sin upon my conscience. He wanted ye years ago, said ye had the makings of a taibhsear, and I would not let him have ye. I thought—for Ian—well, we'll say no more about Ian the now. I'll be seeing him soon enough."

His breathing slowed and Alistair thought he had fallen asleep, but then his eyes opened once again.

"You," he said very clearly. "You. D'ye ken?"

"Aye, laird. But—"

"Then it is well."

Though Alistair sat a while longer, holding the laird's wasted hand in his, Gawyn Kirallen didn't speak again.

CHAPTER 24

Well, there it is, Alistair, he said to himself an hour later as he sat down upon his own bed. The knights are with me and the laird has given me his blessing. It's mine now, all I ever wanted. All I need do is reach out my hand and take it.

He clung to the detachment he had won so painfully during the past year, away from the close confines of Ravenspur. From that greater distance he could see it was Jemmy's destiny to rule here, not his, no matter what the laird might say. And Malcolm's to stay with his uncle.

Let Jemmy fight the battle; Alistair was past the squabbling for power that went on within these walls. He would spend the time that he had left with Deirdre, doing everything in his power to see her safe and happy.