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"'Tis Sir Alistair," Donal called back. "But—"

"Well, let him in!" Jemmy cried impatiently.

"All right," Donal said. "But I'll have that sword first, if ye please."

Alistair handed it over and reached for his dagger, his fingers brushing the empty sheathe before he remembered he had given it to Deirdre. Donal opened the door and stepped back for him to pass.

"Did you disarm him?" Jemmy called from the bed, where he lay propped up on several pillows. "I hope you got the knife in his boot. And while you're at it, you'd best take the ties from the bedcurtains—he might decide to strangle me." As Donal hesitated, Jemmy added smoothly, "Oh, and don't forget the pillow. 'Twould be easy enough to smother me as I lie here helpless in my bed."

His face was grave, but his dark eyes were gleaming in their shadowed hollows. Alistair bent his head to hide his smile. This was exactly how Ian used to talk when he felt Alistair was being overly cautious. He knew from experience that Donal was not the least bit amused.

"Go on, Donal," Jemmy sighed. "'Tis just a joke. Go back to the door."

He shifted a little on the pillows, grimacing. "Here, hand me that, will you? And pour for yourself."

Alistair passed the cup and filled his own, letting the spirit slide down his throat in a warming glide. Half a dozen candles in an iron stand cast a glow over the crimson-hung bed, but the rest of the room was in shadow, save the fire burning faintly in the hearth.

"Where is your lady?"

Jemmy nodded toward a door leading to an inner chamber. "Best she bide there for the time. She couldn't sleep for fear of disturbing my shoulder."

Alistair sat back in his seat, relieved. He had been wondering how he could pry Alyson from Jemmy's side, for what he had to say was for Jemmy's ear alone.

"Donal's right, you know," Alistair said. "You should be guarded."

"'Tis a bit late for that," Jemmy said wryly. "And I suppose that's what's eating at the two of them. Ah, well, they're good lads and they do their best. But the danger's not so simple as they would have it. Unless, of course, you did come to murder me. In which case, I hope you'll have the decency to let me get thoroughly drunk before you do it."

"Shut up, Jemmy," Alistair said roughly. "I didna come here for that."

"I suppose not," Jemmy replied evenly. "So why did you come? To tell me about the council meeting?"

How cool he is, Alistair thought. Surely he knows it was his own death we spoke of there.

"It was...interesting," Alistair answered. "Malcolm stood up to them like a man. A foolish man," he added, shaking his head. "But no more foolish than other Kirallen men I've known."

"Aye, he told me something of it. He never did care much for Sir Calder. No more did I."

"Then why the devil did ye let him and his cronies on the council in the first place?"

"Father did it," Jemmy said. "I tried to stop him, but— I'm afraid that during this past year Father and I haven't gotten on as well as I had hoped. He never did forgive me for marrying Alyson. And after the last attack he grew... unreasonable."

"You mean his wits left him."

"You could put it that way. Or you could say we disagreed. But either way, Calder took your seat on the council and soon he got some others on, as well—oh, why am I bothering to tell you? You know it all already, don't you?"

"I know what they told me today."

Jemmy smiled. "Aye. Of course. You haven't been in contact with him all along."

"No, Jemmy, I haven't. Whether ye believe it or no', 'tis true. Even if I thought Malcolm should be laird, I would never have gone about it this way," he said, gesturing toward Jemmy's bandaged shoulder. "Calder is the traitor Malcolm named him—but then, ye must be thinkin' I'm no better."

"Well, the thought had crossed my mind. But it wouldn't be fair to put you in the same boat with Calder. He's out for everything he can get, while you—I suppose you're acting in Malcolm's interests. Just as you were last year."

"Aye, well, there's no denying I did some foolish things last year," Alistair said uncomfortably. "All I can say is that they seemed the right things at the time."

Jemmy sighed, looking suddenly exhausted. "I know that. And who's to say they weren't? Father has come round to agreeing with you."

Alistair shifted in his seat. "I spoke with him last night."