Chapter 8
To a Gallows Or a Bathtub
“Order. Order! Quieten down, or I’ll have ye all thrown out!”
Una flinched. She didn’t think she’d ever heard her brother bellow that way. It had the desired effect, however. The crowd in the Great Hall quietened down at once, the noise lowering to a muttered level of whispers and hisses.
There are too many people here, Una thought, heart sinking. It will be chaos.
Kai sat at a raised dais at one end of the Hall. Astrid sat straight-backed and rigid beside him. They were the ones that would pass judgment on what should be done with Struan. Everybody else in the Hall was here to have their say.
We’ll be here until midnight. And even then, not everybody will be heard.
She rose from her own position, a chair set a little lower than Kai’s but still nearby. The place had been carefully chosen, given her honor as Kai’s sister, but no implication of actual power.
The guards, however, parted to let her by, and she made her way to the high seat.
Kai watched her approach curiously. It sometimes seemed that her brother had no idea what to do with her or what to say to her.
It was to be expected, considering all the years they’d spent apart, but sometimes Una felt a pang of disappointment.
They’d been inseparable once. What might they have been if all of this hadn’t happened?
“What is it, lass?” Kai whispered, leaning towards her.
Astrid’s sharp eyes landed on Una and stayed there.
She has reason to want Laird Dickson’s son dead, too, Una reminded herself. And this is her clan and her bloodright.
Astrid is the one I need to convince.
“There are too many people in here,” Una muttered. It was best to start small, she’d decided. “It’s going to be carnage. And what if they riot when they see him?”
There was no need to explain who he was.
Kai thought this over, a muscle jumping in his jaw. After a moment, he glanced over at his wife.
“Astrid? What do ye think?”
“I think that Una is right,” Astrid continued.
“There are too many people in the room, to be sure. But we promised transparency in this trial, did we not? A great many people are invested in what happens to Struan Dickson. We need to keep our promise; otherwise, they may suspect that the Dickson influence is still prominent here. Of course it was my father’s fault to begin with. ”
This was a sobering thought.
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Una murmured. “But the danger of a riot still holds.”
“It does,” Astrid acknowledged. “Have ye any ideas?”
Una paused, glancing back to scan the room. She could see Thomas in the corner, arms folded and his expression grim. He would be looking for threats and holes in the security, just like she was. There was no sign of Kyla, and this worried Una just a little.
She turned back to Astrid, who lifted her eyebrows questioningly.
“We should keep the crowd behind a line of armed guards,” Una said at last. “We bring Struan in through the entrance at the top of the room, near the high seat, and we don’t allow the audience past the halfway point of the room. That way, they can observe without interfering.”
She addressed her comment to Kai, but as always, he looked at Astrid before he responded. She gave the tiniest of nods, and Kai nodded, too.
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” he said at last. “I’ll give the orders.”
Feeling as though a disaster had been averted, Una moved from her seat, letting out a sigh of relief. She wound her way through the crowd to where Thomas stood.
“All well?” she asked, keeping her gaze on the crowd.
“Aside from the fact that all these people here are going to tear Struan Dickson to pieces the instant he steps out of the door, then yes, all is well.”
“It’s being dealt with,” Una assured him. “Where is Kyla?”
“Sick.”
Una flinched, frowning. “Sick? What do ye mean?”
Thomas shook his head, a faint line appearing between his brows. “She must have eaten something bad at the banquet last night. I left her asleep. She must be sick to miss her brother’s trial. Who’s speaking for him?”
Una breathed out. “I am.”
Thomas shot her a quick, curious glance. “I see. Well, good luck in representing the most hated man in the Highlands.”
She gave a tight smile. “He isn’t the most hated man in the Highlands. However, he can lead us to the most hated man.”
At that moment, a murmur spread through the crowd, growing louder and louder until it was a cry.
Then Struan Dickson stepped out of a doorway, his arms bound behind his back, flanked by Kenneth soldiers.
The cry turned to one of outrage. Glancing around, Una saw that most people simply stood, brows furrowed.
He’s not the slavering monster they expected, Una realized.
There were some angry people, of course, the backbone of the shouts. As she watched, a projectile sailed through the air, smashing to pieces on the stone floor only a few paces from Struan’s feet. He eyed it curiously. It was a half-rotten turnip, by the looks of it.
At once, the thrower of turnips was hauled away by the soldiers. Struan gave a small, tight smile and was hauled away to stand in front of the high seat, facing up at Astrid and Kai.
“Ye had best go,” Thomas whispered.
Una gave a curt nod and pushed her way through the crowd. She felt dozens of eyes boring into her back as she moved towards them. Struan didn’t turn to look at her until she stood beside him, and even then, he only let his eyes flick her way.
“Ye are here today, Struan Dickson, because ye are accused of too many crimes to count,” Kai said at last, his voice booming out in the silence. “And yet ye are a prisoner of war, and killing ye would be a breach of justice.”
Struan let out a low laugh. “Give me a sword then, and let me have a fighting chance. Trial by combat…”
“Trial by combat is a Dickson way of doing things,” Astrid interrupted, her eyes suddenly blazing. “We rely upon justice. Tell me, Struan Dickson, why should we not hang ye from the highest tree in Kenneth land?”
Struan shrugged. “I have no reason.”
A mutter ran through the crowd. Una’s heart sank.
Of course he won’t try to defend himself. It’s up to me, then.
Clearing her throat, Una attracted Kai and Astrid’s attention to herself.
“Then I suppose it all depends on how useful he can be,” she said aloud, her voice carrying in the quiet room.
“Struan Dickson cannot be released, not truly. But is there any need to kill him? After all, more bloodshed won’t bring back those we’ve lost. However, if he can do some good, that’s a different matter altogether. ”
Kai leaned forward. “And do ye think he can do good? Do ye think he’ll help us?”
“Aye,” Una said, with more confidence than she had expected to hear in her own voice. “And what’s more, the Abbess of the Priory of St. Deborah thinks so, too. Ye all know her. Her judgment is unquestioned.”
Struan glanced down at her sharply, but Una did not let herself look up at him. Kai pursed his lips, drumming his fingers on the table. He glanced over at Astrid, who was frowning.
“The Abbess is rarely wrong,” she murmured. “But if she is, this is an expensive mistake.”
Seizing her moment, Una scrambled up the dais, lowering her voice.
“I believe that he’s less of a danger than ye think,” she whispered. “He’ll try to escape if we give him the chance, of course, but he’s no longer trying to kill himself by any means necessary. I… I believe I can convince him to help us.”
Astrid’s eyes flashed. “Oh, ye think so?”
“Aye, I do,” Una insisted. “Think on it. Struan has done bad things, aye. But he’s nothing compared to his father.
I grew up at that vile Keep. I saw what Laird Dickson did to people.
He enjoyed cruelty, and he was cruel to his own bairns.
Look at Kyla and how she suffered. Perhaps there’s some good in Struan Dickson, after all.
Kyla thinks so, and the Abbess believed so.
He’ll pay for his crimes, aye, but we should let him help us, at least.”
There was a silence after this. Astrid leaned forward, taking a moment to collect her thoughts.
“He is manipulating ye, lass,” she said softly. “Do ye not see it?”
Una pressed her lips together. “I can tell ye that he no longer wants to die at any cost. That’s something, isn’t it? Surely we can prevent one man from leaving the Keep while we try and get something useful out of him.”
Kai looked at his wife and waited. It was clear who the decision rested with. Una found herself holding her breath.
Why do I care? I should be hoping that he gets hanged.
She could picture it in her mind for a moment and saw Struan’s still form swaying from a noose. To her surprise, the idea filled her with nausea. It wasn’t fair, somehow.
“Very well,” Astrid whispered, her voice almost hoarse. “He gets a chance. But Una, since ye have argued for him, he is yer responsibility. On yer head be it if he escapes or does anything terrible.”
Kai stiffened at this but didn’t argue. Una breathed out.
“Agreed,” she said shortly.
Straightening up, she turned and stared down at Struan. He was staring up at her, his expression unreadable. Before she could stop herself, she smiled.
“So, if I’m not to be hanged,” Struan remarked idly, as the soldiers undid the ropes knotted around his wrists. “Can I at least wash?”
Una lifted her eyebrows. “Wash? Weren’t ye given a basin of water to wash in? I know ye did at the convent.”
They were in the quiet hallways behind the Great Hall. The crowd had been dispersed, a number of them visibly displeased that there’d be no execution. More people seemed to be relieved than disappointed, however, and that was consolation in itself, somehow.
“Aye, I was,” Struan snorted, rubbing his wrists to get some life back into them.
The guards backed away to a respectable distance but still glared balefully at Struan, as if daring him to put a foot wrong.
“Would ye be happy to wash only in a bucket of cold water once a day? I want a bath.”
Una clenched her jaw. “Ye must be joking.”