“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 knowher. 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.”
