Page 97 of The Forest Bride

“But I am not related to Bruce.”

“You accompanied his daughter. And you have value of your own through your kin and the Rhymer. King Edward sent men to pursue your sister for something she owned. It is possible they meant to take you too in that ambush.”

She remembered their earlier conversation about Thomas’s brooch. “Since Menteith took Lilias, he may have known something about me.”

“Aye, and perhaps it was a royal order—or he just wanted to please the king, knowing the king’s obsession with prophecies and the Rhymer and such. It could be.”

“Duncan—the stones. I nearly forgot with all this—I wanted to tell you.”

“Do not fret about your brooch. I will get that for you somehow.”

“Not that. The stones we found with the holes in them, remember? I did not see anything through them. But I tried again, and I saw a vision. Truly.”

“The legend about the faeries at the pool is a fine one, but those stones do look rather ordinary, lass. I doubt anyone could see much but what is in front of them.”

“Listen, do. At first I saw nothing. But I fell asleep for a little while, and I dreamed my great-grandfather was there. He looked so real. He told me to look through the stones again. And he mentioned his seeing-stone, the blue stone in the brooch, and said I must have it in my keeping.”

“Well, if a ghost in a dream orders it, we must obey,” he drawled.

She knocked his arm lightly. “When I woke up, I knew it for a dream. But I tried the stones again, and this time I saw something. A vision that was only in the stone.”

His hand cupped her elbow. “What was that?”

“I saw you through the opening in the stone.” At his puzzled look, she nodded. “You were standing in a field. But I was in the room, you see. And the sky was gray. It was impossible.”

“In a field? Tell me about it.”

“You stood in a field, but it looked to be in the aftermath of a battle. There were men lying on the ground, not moving. You were the only one standing among those poor men. Then you leaned on your sword, which was upright. But it seemed to sink down, and you fell. It was very strange. I was so frightened for you.”

“Standing? And the sword sank?” Brow puckering, he looked baffled.

“I know it seems odd to see such a thing through a hole no bigger than this.” She circled her finger and thumb. “But I saw it so clearly, and I am scared for you. I cannot bear for some harm to come to you. Not now, when we have found each other again.”

“Hush, lass.” He took her into his embrace, held her for a moment, kissed her hair, let her go. “I think I know—”

“Do not say it was nothing. It was real.” She tapped her breastbone. “I know it, I.”

He smiled. “My mother would say exactly that when she saw something true. And we believed it—most of the time,” he added.

“There, see!”

“I see, I do. But listen. What you saw is nothing to fret over. It already happened.”

“What?”

“At Dunbar, years ago. When the fighting was done, I was one of the few still left standing among the Scots. Exhausted. Wounded. I stood looking about, and leaned on my sword, and the tip sank down into the mud and the blood. I went down with it and collapsed. Listen, lass,” he said, as she gasped. “That was how I was captured. I fell when the sword sank, and I was taken prisoner. That is what you saw.”

“Duncan, I am sorry—and so relieved. What I saw will not happen.”

A little smile as he drew her closer. “It will never happen again. You saw the past,” he whispered, “and it was not something you knew. That makes me believe in those wee stones. And in you, and what you can see in the stones one.”

“You believe that I saw it, then?”

“I do. I believe all you said. And I believe you inherited more than a couple of pretty stones from True Thomas. You inherited a rare gift.”

“I thought I had no real ability with the stones he gave me.”

“And now you know otherwise.” He kissed her then, slowly, her body curving to his, yearning quick and hot as his arms tightened around her and the kiss lingered. But then he drew back, kissing her cheek, her ear. She melted at that warm breathiness poured through to her bones.