His heart beating fast with hope and the fear that all could yet fail, Hacon shuffled forward. The guards gave him no aid, and it took several awkward moments before he stood in front of the king. Finally he had the chance to speak against Balreaves, to put the guilt where it belonged. He dared not look at Jennet. His feelings were running so strongly, he knew he could be dangerously distracted and confused by her.
“I have ever declared my innocence, my liege.”
“Aye, you have. But the accusations against you appeared strong and were presented by a man of high birth. However badly I wished to believe in you, I had little reason to doubt Sir Balreaves.”
“Aye, Balreaves is of high birth, but he has little honor. He took the truth and twisted it. He has long wanted my death.” Hacon told of how and when the feud between him and Balreaves had begun, and of Balreaves’s many attempts upon his life. “This was but another attempt.”
“It would appear we have been ill used. Howbeit, why have you not mentioned these murderous attacks before now?”
“I had no proof. Even when I had the word of one of his dying hirelings, my only witnesses were my friends and kinsmen. Although I ached to kill the mon, I needed unquestionable proof of his guilt. Without it, I knew it could bring my family grief, for as ye say, Balreaves is of high birth and part of your court. Howbeit, I believe there are those who have always shared my suspicions. They may be prompted to speak now.”
“I believe Balreaves himself has spoken loud enough.” There was a grunting murmur of agreement from the other men on the dais. “’Tis time this charade was ended. We have been made game of, tricked into becoming an instrument of murder. You are exonerated of all charges of treason, Sir Gillard. In an attempt to make amends, this court will see that the clearing of your name is widely told. All that was yours is restored. Including,” he added with a faint smile toward Jennet, “your horses and ponies.”
Jennet leapt to her feet and would have raced to Hacon, but Sir Niall grabbed her arm, halting her.
“Let go!” she demanded.
“Nay, though I crave witnessing your tender reunion.” His tone of voice said just the opposite. “Your health must be my greatest concern. Your mon has more than dirt upon him. I cannae believe the wildlife he crawls with would do ye much good.”
“He is right, Jennet,” Hacon said as he faced her. “Let me shed the filth and shackles first. Then we may celebrate my freedom and”—he tried to look stern—“discuss the problem of wives who dinnae stay home as they are told to.”
Jennet eyed him with a touch of wariness, wondering just how angry he was with her for the risks she had taken. “As you wish, my husband.”
“Such meekness,” he murmured, knowing she was already planning a way to talk him out of an anger he did not really feel.
“Lady Jennet,” the king said, “ere Sir Niall escorts you to chambers where you might rest, I should like to know more about your father.”
“My father?”
“I give you my word that I mean him no harm, whether he agrees or nay to a plan I have.”
“I can tell you what ye need to know,” Hacon said.
“So be it then. Lady Jennet, may I say no man has ever had a better advocate.”
“Thank you, my liege.” She barely had time to curtsy before Sir Niall began towing her to the door.
“I will send Sir Bearnard to aid you until your men are found, Sir Gillard,” Sir Niall called over his shoulder.
“My thanks, Sir Niall,” Hacon said, chuckling softly after the door shut behind them.
“Fetch a man to remove his shackles,” ordered the king. “You may sit, if it pleases you, Sir Gillard.”
“It would be welcome.” Hacon sat on the stool Jennet had vacated. “I wish to request the right to pursue Balreaves.”
“You have it. No man deserves such a right more than you. Sir John Balreaves will be declared an outlaw. He is yours. Do with him as you will. His death is decreed from this moment.”
“Thank you, my liege.”
“And I have something to give you,” Sir Douglas interjected. “Consider it an apology for my failure to see what Balreaves was plotting.
“Ye may tell your wife’s kinsmen that they no longer need fear the Douglasses. I declare a peace.”
“Thank ye, Sir Douglas.”
“Now, about your wife’s father,” the king said. “If he has but part of the wit and guile his daughter possesses, he could be very useful to me.”
“Guile, my liege?” Hacon murmured, relaxing when the king smiled.
