It was humbling to know his followers were so faithful. But such loyalty put him in one hell of a position. He had resigned as laird, and no one was accepting his decision.

Not even his wife.

Iain stared at Graham now. He knew the torment the elder must be going through. His followers were deserting him. They were turning their backs on the old ways.

He tried to think of a way to salvage the old man's pride. It would be a stark humiliation for Graham if he left with the clan. Graham had been like a father to him. He couldn't shame him this way.

He couldn't back down, either. The issue was far too important.

"Judith, I can't change what has been decided," Iain announced.

"That isn't what you told me," she argued.

He shook his head. She thought he might not remember the discussion they had had the day they'd walked through the cemetery. She decided to remind him.

"I was railing against all the injustices in this world, and I specifically remember your suggestion to me. You said that if I didn't like something, I should work to change it. One whisper, added to a thousand others, becomes a roar of discontent, remember? Yes," she added with a nod. "Those were your words to me. Have you changed your mind, then?"

"Judith, it's… complicated," Iain said.

"Nay, it isn't complicated," Graham muttered. "It comes down to the old against the young. And that's the truth of it."

Judith's heart went out to the elder. He looked so defeated. "No," she denied. "It isn't the old against the young at all."

"Judith…"

She ignored Iain's warning tone of voice. She moved closer to Graham's side and took hold of his arm. The show of allegiance to the elder was deliberate, of course, for in Judith's mind Iain wasn't the one who needed his pride soothed. The warriors were all standing with him now. Graham's pride was another matter. Judith was determined to find a way to help him back down without losing his honor or his dignity.

"I believe it's experience and wisdom leading the young and strong," she told the elder. "Surely you can see that, Graham."

"There is some truth in what you say," he agreed.

Judith took a breath, then blurted out, "I would like to speak directly to the council."

A loud murmur of approval sounded behind Judith. Graham looked as though she had just asked him to slit his throat. He was rendered speechless.

"And what would you say to the council?" Iain asked.

She kept her gaze on Graham while she gave her husband her answer. "I would begin by telling the council how remiss they've been in their duties to the most important members of this clan. They've left out the women and the children. Yes, that is just how I would begin."

Graham had to wait until the women standing with Judith had quit cheering. "How have they been left out?"

"You don't allow any of us to come to you for advice," Judith answered. "Our problems should be every bit as important to you as your warrior's problems. We should also be able to voice our opinions concerning significant matters."

"Judith, every woman is important here."

"Then why can't we come before the council?"

Graham had never had anyone challenge him like this before. He rubbed his jaw while he considered his answer. "When you have a problem you wish to discuss, you should go to your husband," he finally advised.

He looked pleased with himself for coming up with his solution. He even managed a smile.

"That is all good and well," Judith countered. "Husbands and wives should always discuss their problems with each other. But what about the women who don't have husbands? Who can they turn to for advice? Do these women cease to matter? If Helen had had a problem with her son, she should have been able to come to you or Gelfrid, or any of the other elders to seek your counsel, but that opportunity wasn't available to her. When her husband died, she became an outsider."

"I would have been happy to solve her problems," Graham returned.

Judith tried to hide her exasperation. "Helen doesn't need you to solve her problems for her," she argued. "None of us do. We only want to be able to discuss these concerns, to gain another point of view… we want to be included in this clan, Graham. Helen has a sound mind. She can solve her own problems. Now do you understand?"

"There's Dorothy, too," Helen reminded Judith. "Mention her while you're telling him the way things are around here."

"Yes, Dorothy," Judith agreed. Helen had only just told her about the expectant mother. "Dorothy's due to have her baby in another month. Her husband died on a hunting raid just weeks after they were wed. The council should be her family now. She shouldn't be alone. Surely the elders will wish to make some changes… for the sake of the women and the children."

Graham couldn't help but be swayed by the valid argument. The elders had ignored the women. "We have been remiss," he admitted.

It was all he was willing to give now. It was enough. Judith turned back to Iain. It was his turn to do a little conceding. "My mother's English, my father's Laird Maclean, and I can't change that. You're laird here, Iain, and I don't believe you can change that, either."

Iain frowned. "Judith, I didn't press for the alliance simply because Maclean was your father. 'Tis the truth my men could take on a legion of Macleans and come out winners. They're better trained than any other unit in all of Scotland. However," he added with a meaningful glance in Graham's direction, "the Dunbars united with the Macleans would overwhelm us in sheer numbers alone. As laird, it is my duty to protect each and every member of this clan. I simply cannot accomplish this as advisor. The position is empty without power. And that, wife, is no longer acceptable to me."

"Unacceptable as it is now," she qualified.

"As it has always been," he corrected.

"Until you change it."

Iain walked over to stand directly in front of Graham. "I will not remain advisor. I want the power to act."

A long minute passed while Graham once again mulled over Iain's demand. He turned to look at the elders before giving his attention back to Iain.

And still he hedged. "Absolute power…"

Judith started to interrupt, then stopped herself. Men were far more delicate to deal with than women were, she thought to herself. Their pride made the most reasonable solutions difficult.

"You have to be accountable for your actions, son," Graham said. He looked haggard. Judith thought he had already decided against the change and was struggling to accept the inevitable.

And then the solution came to her. "What a fine idea, Graham," she cried out. She smiled at the elder, nodded when he gave her such a puzzled look, and then rushed over to stand next to Iain. She nudged him in his side. "Isn't it a fine plan, husband?"

He didn't know what she was talking about. "Judith, if my every decision is questioned-"

"Probably just once a year," she interrupted. "Or does your plan include giving your laird your vote of confidence more often?" she asked the elder.

Graham's surprise was evident. He finally understood what she was suggesting. He quickly nodded. He smiled, too. "Yes, once a year would do. Your actions will be accountable then, by God. You could be voted out, Iain."

He left the empty threat hanging in the air. Everyone knew that would never happen. The power had just been given to the laird. Everyone understood that, too.

"It will be a firm balance of power," Graham announced, his voice strong now with conviction. "The council will meet once a month to hear petitions from the members, of course. We'll also be giving you advice, Iain, whenever the mood strikes us."

"Will the council hear petitions from all the members? The women, too?" Judith pressed.

Graham nodded. "Aye, lass," he agreed. "Especially the women. We've kept them silent too long. It's time their voice was heard."