Behind Anselm and his colleagues stood a dozen men-at-arms in his livery. Rod felt his scalp prickle.

Then, looking toward the center of the platform, he saw a young man standing bare-chested with his hands tied behind his back, beneath the golden chain—a black-haired young man who was amazingly handsome. That must be Geordie, and suddenly Rod could see why Rowena had been attracted to him. Anselm's wife must have been a very unusual woman indeed, one who could have married much better than an attainted nobleman who could give her no better life than any yeoman could—for she must have been radiantly beautiful. Geordie certainly didn't get his looks from his dowdy father.

"Mercy, kind judge!" Rowena threw her veil back, looking up at Diarmid with wide eyes that glistened with tears, giving him the full benefit of her astounding beauty. "Have mercy on my husband, I beg you!"

There was a stir and a murmur among the lords behind Anselm—and another to answer it, among the men-at-arms, even from the knights and troopers behind Diarmid. In fact, the whole crowd seemed to breathe as every man sighed with admiration and longing. Lady Rowena's beauty moved them all, and her tragic tears and vulnerability made every man there long to leap to her defense.

Every man except Diarmid. With a quick glance, Rod saw the young man's eyes widen, saw his hands tighten on the arms of the great chair—but his voice was cool and calm as he said, "Milady, he has broken the law."

"My love, do not humiliate yourself before this heartless man!" Geordie cried as though his own heart would break.

Diarmid's eyes narrowed; his hands tightened further.

"There is no shame in pleading for my husband's life!" Rowena cried. "O kind judge, give him any punishment but death!"

"I would the law allowed it," Diarmid said in a far more sympathetic voice than Rod had ever heard from him. "I would I could give him back to you, but the law is clear, and he has himself admitted to poaching sixteen of the Crown's deer."

"Deer that should have been his!" Anselm cried, as though the words were torn from him. "The great lords have always had the privilege of hunting in the royal forests, and it is Geordie who should have been duke of Loguire, not his mealy-mouthed cousin."

"So he would have, if you had not robbed him of his place by your treason." Diarmid lifted his head to give his uncle a stony glare, and his guards took their pikes in both hands.

The men beside Anselm leaned in to mutter angrily to him, and the lords behind him loosened their swords in their sheathes—but they glanced at the knights behind the young duke, who seemed to strain forward; they glanced again at the guards beside Diarmid, the others who stood to either side of Geordie, and the thirty more who stood below the scaffold, pikes and halberds ready—and Anselm could only clench his fists in impotent fury.

Diarmid turned back to Rowena. "He has stolen sixteen of the Crown's royal deer, and must be hanged for any one of them. This is the law, and he has admitted his crime. I cannot pardon Geordie."

Anselm cried out in anguish and gripped the hilt of his sword, and the man at his side leaned in to mutter more urgently—but the attainted lord only stood trembling.

"Kind lord, can you not remit the law?" Rowena cried.

"If laws are cast aside, the kingdom shall fall into chaos and all shall suffer," Diarmid told her.

"I am with child!" Rowena cried.

Anselm groaned, and Geordie let out a cry of his own.

Twenty-Two

"ALAS. THAT MY HUSBAND MUST LEARN OF IT thus!" Tears flowed down Rowena's cheeks. "But I am sure of it—I shall bear a babe in seven months' time! Must I birth an orphan?"

"Oh, my love! Geordie started for her, but the guards yanked him back. He turned on them with savage fury, bound hands or no, but one of them caught him in a wrestling hold, and he could only struggle and curse.

"I grieve for you," Diarmid said solemnly, "but so long as I am duke of Loguire, neither you nor your child shall want for anything. Go back to your estate, lady, and tend your babe."

She stood and turned away, sobbing, to Anselm, who embraced her and cried over her head, "Heartless prince! Can you show no mercy even to your own cousin?"

"It is because he is my cousin, my lord, that I dare make no exception to the law," Diarmid returned. "Shall the people say that there is one law for the common folk and another for the Crown and its relatives? Surely not! There must be justice for all!

"Justice, yes." Rod mounted the stairs, saying, "But sometimes the law must be tempered with mercy to yield justice."

"Gallowglass!" Anselm cried in anger and despair, and Rowena look up in horror to discover that her traveling companion had been her family's arch-enemy.

"Lord Warlock!" Relief washed over Diarmid's face but was quickly hidden. "How come you here?"

'To plead the cause of justice, Lord Duke." The relief Rod had seen in Diarmid's face reminded him how very young the man really was. "The forest laws are well and good, since they keep the deer from all being killed, and allow only enough hunting so that they don't gobble up their food supply and starve—but is not this enforcement too rigid? Is not the whole purpose of maintaining the deer herds so that they are there to feed hungry people if they are needed?"

"A sound rationale," Diarmid said thoughtfully. "History tells us the Forest Laws were made only to save the deer as sport for the great lords—but you give them far greater purpose, Lord Warlock."

Anselm stared, unable to believe Rod was pleading his family's cause—but Geordie stared, stunned, and Rowena looked at him with a sudden wild hope.

"Surely that purpose should be considered here," Rod said. "Is sport for the few more important than the lives of peasants?"

The crowd began to mutter, and the soldiers shifted uneasily.

Rod pressed the point. "Is the law more important than good governance?"

"The law is the key to good governance, my lord." Diarmid frowned, puzzled.

"Then good governance is the purpose?"

Diarmid lifted his head slowly, beginning to understand Rod's direction. "Aye, Lord Warlock, good governance is the purpose of the law."

"Then it is a purpose the law must serve." He turned to Rowena. "Lady, has your husband ever failed in his duty?"

"Never, my lord!" Rowena said fervently. "He has always been diligent and just in his care of his peasants! He is ever about the estates assuring that all is well! The welfare of his people has ever been his constant concern!"

"Even to making her quarrel with him," growled one of her guards, in a voice too loud to be a mistake.

Diarmid turned to the man—and to the whole dozen of her escort. "Surely a wife will speak well of a husband she loves—but what of his retainers?" He saw the man's furtive glance at Anselm and sharpened his tone. "Come, man, you've naught to fear! You shall have a place in my own retinue; you and your family shall have cottages on my estates to shield you from the anger of Sir Anselm! If there is anything to be said against Squire Geordie, speak!"

"Not one word!" the grizzled peasant cried. "Not one word is there to be said against him, my lord, and everything for him!"

"Aye!" cried a younger man. "He is beside us even at the plow to be sure the furrow is straight! He marches out with the sowers to broadcast the seed!"

"Aye!" cried another. "When the harvest comes, he is ever beside us with scythe and flail! If a plowman is sick, it is he who sneezes!"

"We would follow Geordie to the death, my lord." The old peasant made it half a threat. "Call him to battle, and we will follow him all, man and boy, because we know that our welfare is his concern."