Page 91 of Highland Flame

Chapter Twenty-Five

Yvaine paced back and forth in the great hall the next morning, waiting for Cam to arrive. Everyone gathered there for Keithen’s trial. Storm MacKeefe and his father, Ian, were both lairds of the clan and sitting atop the dais, getting ready to start since they would be the judges. The lairds resided over any problems that happened in the town.

“Here is the accused, my lairds,” said the dungeon guard, bringing Keithen, with his hands tied behind his back, up to the front of the dais.

“There’s the murderer who killed my brathair,” called out Dun’s brother, Bart, pushing his way up to the front. “Hang him now.”

Yvaine couldn’t stand it anymore. Her brother was not guilty, and she would not let him take the blame and lose his life because of her. If she didn’t say something, she’d never be able to live with herself.

“He didna kill Dun, I did,” she said, hearing the crowd gasp.

“Yvaine, nay!” shouted her brother.

“God’s eyes, why did ye have to say that?” asked North, standing next to her. “Och, Cam is goin’ to kill me for no’ stoppin’ ye.”

“It’s the truth,” said Yvaine, pushing her way to the front. “I hit my husband over the head with a candle holder, and he fell dead at my feet.”

“Yvaine, hush,” said Keithen.

“I willna let my brathair lose his life tryin’ to protect me,” she added.

“Is this right?” asked Storm MacKeefe. “Keithen, did ye confess to the murder of Dun the chandler just to protect yer sister?”

Keithen looked over with angst in his eyes. He shook his head slightly.

“It’s all right, Keithen,” said Yvaine, walking up and putting her hand on his arm. “I have to tell the truth. I canna live a lie any longer.”

“Yvaine, I dinna want to lose ye,” said Keithen.

“I dinna want to lose ye either,” she replied.

“Release Keithen,” commanded Ian. “Instead, tie up the girl’s hands.”

“Da, is that really necessary?” she heard Storm ask his father.

“We have to upkeep the law, Son. No matter who has done wrong. It is our job, as lairds of the clan, to see to the town’s trials.”

Cam interrupted. “Mayhap so, but ye canna condemn anyone without first hearin’ from a witness, and seein’ the evidence I have to present.” Cam walked through the great hall, followed by a group of people from the village.

“What is this all about?” griped Old Callum MacKeefe, Storm’s grandfather, who had sentenced Cam and his friends. “These people shouldna be in here. Send them out.”

“Wait,” said Storm, standing up and holding up his hand. “I want to hear what Cam has to say. Go ahead.”

“I have proof that Dun beat his wife,” said Cam, walking up to Yvaine. “Look at these bruises that are still here.” He pulled up the sleeve of Yvaine’s gown to show him.

“Cam, nay,” said Yvaine, feeling very embarrassed at this point.

“Yvaine, work with me,” he pleaded. “I assure ye, this is all crucial to prove yer innocence.”

“But Cam –”

“Please, Yvaine,” he whispered, looking like he was so tired he was about to fall over. His hair was disheveled and his clothes were covered with dirt. “Trust me.”

“I do trust ye, Cam,” she said, holding up her arm for the lairds to see.

“Beatin’ a woman is no crime,” shouted one of the men in the hall.

“Mayhap no’, but I am workin’ up to my point,” said Cam.