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"I have my seat on the council back, that's the first thing. And now I ken what they mean to do. You're safe enough until the laird goes but after that—well, we'll have to fight. I see no other way. Who can we count on?"

After they had decided which of the knights could be trusted, Alistair said, "I will talk to them—"

"No," Jemmy said. "I will do that."

"But—"

"Leave it to me, Alistair. You don't have to see to everything, you know. I am not entirely helpless, no matter how I look just now."

Alistair smiled. "Aye. Right. The fewer who know I'm involved in this, the better. We'll tell no one, Jemmy. Not until we must. And no one knows what was said here tonight. Not even your lady. Let them all think I'm Calder's man—or he's mine."

"Which is it to be?" Jemmy asked. "Calder's been in charge for some time now. Has it occurred to you that he may not want you back?"

"He doesn't. But 'tis too late, isn't it? After all, I'm here with the laird's blessing. I suppose I'll have to challenge the bastard, though. He'll be expecting it."

He was committed now. There was no turning back. And no point to thinking how it might have been if he had simply bent his head and kissed the soft skin of Deirdre's neck. He had chosen his path and he must follow it to the end.

"Calder might decide it's easier just to get rid of you," Jemmy said.

"Aye," Alistair said wearily. "He's already holding Malcolm hostage to my good behavior, but that might not be enough."

"Have you considered Lady Maxwell's safety?"

"I have. She'll be going back to Ireland with that Fitzgerald lad who came today."

"I thought—the two of you seemed to be—"

"She's leaving," Alistair said shortly. He couldn't talk of Deirdre, not now, or he would start remembering this afternoon, the way she'd leaned against him so trustingly—

"I think your wound should keep you abed the next day or two," he said, forcing his mind back to the present. "I don't need ye in my way just now."

"I can't say I'd mind that," Jemmy admitted. "Damn this shoulder—it's taking too much out of me. I suppose it was Calder who did it."

Alistair nodded. "And that Maxwell lad—he was Calder's man, as well. I don't know if he's the only one, but I wouldn't be welcoming any of them here if I were you."

They sat in silence as the fire subsided, leaving only the illumination of the candles against the darkness. Alistair threw a fresh log into the fire and leaned both arms on the mantle, staring into the flame.

"There is one thing more I'd ask of you," Jemmy said from behind him. "If I don't make it, see that Alyson gets back to her kin."

"Whisht, man, you're drunk," Alistair said, forcing himself to speak cheerfully as he took his seat again. "Of course you'll—"

"I mean it. I ken how you keep your promises and it isn't lightly I burden you with this one. But I must."

"Even if something was to happen to you, there would be no danger to her. Unless—" he broke off, staring. "Oh, Jemmy. Don't tell me she is— What the devil are ye thinking to keep her here? She must go at once!"

"Try telling her that."

Alistair laughed unwillingly. "Aye, I see the problem. She's a braw lass, Jemmy. Much better than ye deserve."

Though he'd spoken lightly, Jemmy didn't smile. "She is. For myself I don't mind, but—I cannot rest thinking of what might happen to her after—"

"Enough of that. You'll be fine. But just to put your mind at rest, I promise. Now lie back and go to sleep before you waste all the fine spirit you just poured down your throat."

Jemmy obeyed, but not before Alistair had seen the shimmer of relief misting his dark eyes. Poor bastard, Alistair thought, rising and looking down at him. He's about reached the end of his strength. But maybe now he'll begin to mend.

He walked to the door, hesitated, then summoned all his energy and flung it open. "Sleep well, Jemmy. Ye stupid, stubborn fool!" he added beneath his breath, but loud enough for Donal to hear.

Staggering a little, he glared at the young knight. "I'll thank ye for my sword," he said thickly, then made a show of missing his scabbard as he tried to sheathe it. "Listen, Donal," he added with drunken confidentiality, leaning close to the young knight. "You're a good lad, I ken that. Time was ye rode with me. So I'll just whisper in your ear that you're backing the wrong horse." He nodded wisely. "Mark me, now. There's still time to save yourself."