There, I had said what had to be said. And the crowd was utterly silent.
‘Thank you, Mistress Blackthorn,’ said the prince. ‘This is indeed a disturbing matter, and one for which the entire community bears some responsibility. Regarding Ness’s injuries, I accept your word. I agree that the details should not be made public. Master Cael? Master Tassach?’
Master Tassach gave a nod. ‘If the information comes under dispute,’ he said, ‘I will speak to Mistress Blackthorn in private.’
‘Acceptable,’ said Master Cael, giving his colleague a sideways glance, ‘though unlikely to be required, I believe. To return to the day of the rescue, Grim – you attempted to apprehend Branoc?’
‘Too quick for me,’ Grim said. ‘Bolted into the woods. Couldn’t go after him. Needed two of us to get the girl safely down to Silverlake. She couldn’t walk.’
‘I stayed with Ness overnight,’ I said. ‘I tended to her as best I could and made sure she’d be properly looked after. As you know, she is still too frail to be moved. But she told us her story: that Branoc abducted her, and that he kept her in the loft for the whole time she was missing. His acts of violence were the cause of all her injuries. On the rare occasions when there were visitors to Branoc’s premises, Ness was too frightened to call for help; he’d threatened to harm her father if she did. She did not know Ernan was already dead. She hardly dared do what she did with the kerchief. She knew her captor would punish her if he found out.’
I saw Branoc gathering himself to leap up and protest again, but Master Tassach gave him a long, steady look and he seemed to think better of it. Just as well. If justice was to be served here, that included letting him hear the proceedings in full.
‘Came back here the next morning, told Emer what had happened, then reported to you, my lord,’ said Grim.
‘And went home to find your house on fire.’
It came flooding back, robbing me of words, stealing even the ability to think. Filling my mind with images of death. Filling my ears with my baby’s screams and the roar of the flames.
Grim moved past Emer to put an arm around my shoulders. He was talking, telling the rest of the story. Holding me up. Doing the job for me. I tried to breathe. I fought to get out of the fire.
‘Managed to grab him this time,’ Grim said. ‘Then folk came to help. That’s about it. Didn’t see Branoc start the blaze. But it couldn’t have started on its own. We’d been gone overnight. Hearth fire would have been cold long before then.’
Dimly, I was aware that a lot of folk were looking at me, the prince, Lady Flidais and the two lawmen included. The prince said something, but the crackling of the flames drowned his words. Then Grim was steering me back to the bench, sitting me down. Someone brought me a cup of water. I took a gulp, wiped my mouth, felt tears rolling down my cheeks.
‘It’s all right,’ whispered Emer, putting a handkerchief in my hand. ‘It’s all right, Mistress Blackthorn.’
A pox on it! I wanted to stand strong. I wanted to be a voice for truth, not some weeping, wilting apology for a woman. ‘I’m fine,’ I said, dashing away the tears. ‘Nothing wrong with me.’
‘Mistress Blackthorn, I don’t believe we need trouble you any further.’ It was Prince Oran speaking. ‘We accept your word and Grim’s. We understand that Ness cannot speak for herself at this council, but there can be no doubt that Branoc is responsible for what happened to her. The fire is a different matter, with responsibility not yet proven. However, grave suspicion rests on Branoc, whom we would have expected to leave the district after Ness was freed. Why would he be close by your cottage only one day after his captive was rescued, when Grim had made it quite clear he meant to apprehend him and bring him to justice? That is a question we will shortly put to Branoc himself.’
The prince smiled at me; Master Cael gave me a nod. Master Tassach was making notes on his parchment. ‘Before we move on to Branoc’s account,’ said Master Cael, ‘does anyone wish to provide further information, particularly in the matter of the fire at Blackthorn’s cottage? Are there any questions in relation to the statements we have heard? Keep your comments relevant. As the prince said earlier, we cannot take heed of opinion, only fact.’
The crowd murmured and whispered among themselves. But it was Lady Flidais who spoke out, startling me. I had not expected her to contribute to the council; I’d assumed she was present only because of custom. ‘My lord, what happened to the young woman is quite shocking. It seems she has indeed been wronged. But every case has two sides to it. Surely we must give some weight to the girl’s character; to what she was before she caught the baker’s eye. Was she a young woman of high morals, pure and untouched? Or was the reluctance of the community to believe her friend’s story based, at least partly, on folk’s knowledge that Ness already had a sweetheart, and that he was one of the travelling folk? A girl who favours that feckless sort of man is surely setting herself up for trouble.’
I was on my feet in an instant. ‘That’s offensive! And it’s completely irrelevant! Are you saying that if a woman has lain with her sweetheart before they are wed, that makes her fair game for any oaf who decides to lock her up in his barn and use her as a toy for his pleasure?’
Lady Flidais turned a chilly gaze on me. ‘The baker is entitled to a defence,’ she said. ‘Perhaps the girl encouraged him. Flirted a little; made suggestions. Women do.’
Master Tassach was about to say something, but I got in first, whirling to face the crowd. ‘This community has already done Ness a gross injustice! Is her character now to be questioned in a public forum when she is not present to defend herself? There’s no excuse for what Branoc did to her! It makes no difference what kind of girl she is, or what she may or may not have done before. He hurt her. He imprisoned her. He terrified her. She’s sixteen years old.’ I gazed across the sea of faces, dimly aware that I must be breaking all sorts of rules, but not caring in the least. ‘Ness is not the accused here,’ I said. ‘She’s the victim.’
I faltered. Had I lost control so badly that I was seeing things now? Down at the back of the hall, a pale man in a cloak was standing very still, watching me with a little half-smile on his aristocratic features. Conmael. A man of the fey right here in Prince Oran’s house, among all these human folk. Why weren’t the people around him looking more surprised? The fey appeared so rarely these days that most folk believed them creatures of story, something from the ancient past. It was only in certain pockets of the land that they were sometimes seen; and even then, folk invented tales to explain them away, as if the truth was too hard. I could make no sense of Conmael’s being here.
‘I’ll answer your question, Lady Flidais.’
A firm young voice spoke from beside me; Emer was on her feet. I turned and seated myself again, wishing I could slow my heart.
‘I am Ness’s closest friend,’ she went on. ‘If anyone can speak for her, I can.’
‘Thank you, Emer,’ said Prince Oran. ‘Please proceed.’ His cheeks were flushed, as if he were in danger of losing the calm control with which he had thus far handled the proceedings. But his tone was warm and reassuring.
‘It’s true that Ness had – has – a sweetheart. Abhan, a horse trader, one of the travelling folk. They see each other when the travellers come north, once a year. They’ve been fond of each other since Ness was only thirteen, but because her father needed her at home, she told Abhan she couldn’t marry him, at least not for a few years. There was nobody else to look after the house, to make sure her father ate properly, to keep him company. Abhan said he’d wait for her. My lord, Ness is a good girl. She and Abhan have never . . . they’ve never lain together.’ Emer’s face had gone fiery red, but her voice was steady. She should not have been required to say this; I hoped wretched Lady Flidais was satisfied now.
It seemed she was not. ‘Forgive me,’ the lady said, raising her brows at Emer, ‘but would a girl of
sixteen confide such a matter even to her dearest friend? Especially if her father believed her a good and dutiful daughter?’
I opened my mouth to protest, but Emer went on steadily. ‘I know my friend better than anyone, Lady Flidais. She would not lie to me. She would not lie to her father. She would not run away from home and she would not steal her father’s savings. Ness is a good girl, a loyal daughter. And her sweetheart, Abhan, is a good man. He wouldn’t have risked getting Ness with child before they were wed. Ernan liked him; he’d told Ness that when she was eighteen he’d give her permission to marry Abhan and go off with the travellers. Branoc knew that. Ness’s father had told him she was promised to another man.’
‘Ernan told Branoc this?’ Master Tassach’s gaze had sharpened. It seemed that in their discussions prior to the council Branoc had neglected to share this significant detail.
‘She’s lying!’ the baker shouted. ‘He said no such thing! The girl was always meant for me!’
‘Be silent!’ ordered the prince, startling me with the strength of his voice. He turned to the lawmen. ‘Master Cael, Master Tassach, do we need to hear anything further from the young lady?’
‘I think not,’ said Master Cael. ‘Emer, please be seated. Thank you for speaking with courage and clarity. I, for one, am in no doubt as to the veracity of your statement.’
‘This council allows every man the opportunity to speak for himself,’ Prince Oran said. ‘Even those accused of the basest acts, the most abhorrent crimes. Branoc, you have heard the testimony of these three folk in the matter of the abduction and imprisonment of Ness, daughter of Ernan. The evidence is damning; Grim found her shackled and hurt on your premises, and Ness has told Mistress Blackthorn that you were responsible. Unless you can give a convincing explanation for your presence at Mistress Blackthorn’s cottage at the time of the fire, it seems almost certain you carried out that burning in retaliation for the rescue of your captive. You are also under grave suspicion in the matter of Ernan’s death. When you were apprehended after the fire, you had on your person one hundred silver pieces.’ A gasp from the crowd. It was a sum beyond most folk’s wildest dreams, mine included. He must have slipped back to the bakery and retrieved it while Grim and I were taking Ness down to the village. Or perhaps he’d had it hidden out in the woods. ‘That suggests, at the very least, that you planned a rapid departure from the district. It adds weight to the possibility that you stole Ernan’s savings. Now is your opportunity to speak in your own defence on all these matters. Or you may prefer Master Tassach to speak on your behalf. What have you to say?’
‘What does it matter?’ growled the baker. ‘I speak, the lawman speaks, there is no difference. No point in it. You already determine me guilty, all of you! You make up your minds on the word of a crazed witch, a half-witted thug and a child!’
Master Tassach opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. He looked deeply uncomfortable. I felt Grim’s tension even though Emer sat between us. He was on the edge of the bench, like a weapon drawn and ready to strike.
‘A child the same age as the one you abducted and abused,’ said Master Cael in a voice no less terrible for its softness.
‘So they say.’ Branoc glared at the three of us. ‘That woman, the witch, she is full of anger at men. Bitter in her rage, since she is shrivelled and plain, and the only man she can get for herself is that addle-brained lump! Does it surprise you that she accuses me of these crimes? A woman like this, she is eaten up with jealousy!’
Donagan was on his feet, and so was Aedan; there was a rumble of protest from the crowd. But Prince Oran motioned to the other men to sit, and gestured to the guards to let Branoc continue. Which was odd, I thought, considering that not so long ago he had threatened to have the baker thrown out of the hall. Unease gripped me, something that went beyond the sting of Branoc’s insults. I had heard worse before; I had suffered blows far deeper. What troubled me was the prince’s choice to let this man spew forth his hatred for all to hear. Had I been foolish to believe, even for a moment, that this hearing would result in justice? Had Ness’s voice after all not been heard?
‘. . . always meant for me,’ Branoc’s rant continued. ‘Ernan gave me his word. He told me I could have her. And Ness, she wanted me from the first. It was there in the way she looked at me. A blind man could have seen it. This talk of a sweetheart, a lover to whom she was promised, it is all lies. When this oaf came to my house, when he laid his clumsy hands on her, I told him, She is my wife. But he took no heed. He stole her away.’
‘Explain to this gathering,’ Prince Oran said, ‘why it is that a young woman whom you say returned your affections found herself shackled and imprisoned in your barn. If her father promised her to you, as you say, and if she was willing to marry you, why were the two of you not hand-fasted? Why was not this relationship known to everyone in Silverlake?’
‘He broke his word.’ There was a darkness in Branoc’s face, as if he carried a storm within him, a consuming fury. I knew how that felt.
‘You’re referring to Ernan?’ The prince was maintaining his calm composure.
‘The wretched miller, yes. He told me I had misunderstood. He told me his daughter would not wed until she was eighteen years old. Eighteen! Two whole years. Why should any man have to wait so long? Ness was a grown woman. She was more than ready for the marriage bed.’
The hush was profound. It was full of things not quite spoken, perilous things that could unbalance this entirely. Emer had her teeth sunk in her lip. Grim’s hands were furious fists; his cheeks wore spots of angry red.
‘Branoc,’ said Prince Oran softly, and I was put in mind of a creature stalking its prey, step by careful step. It seemed there was method in his decision to let the baker speak freely. ‘Am I right in thinking Ernan promised you could marry his daughter in two years’ time? And that Ness herself agreed to that arrangement?’
‘Of course she didn’t –’ burst out Emer, to be hushed by the prince’s raised hand.
‘She was mine,’ Branoc repeated. ‘My wife.’
‘You told her so, I imagine,’ said Prince Oran. The scribe was writing furiously. I hoped he was keeping a true record of the conversation. I hoped the facts would not be twisted and turned to suit a particular purpose, as was common in Mathuin’s hearings. ‘When her father was gone, I mean.’
‘She knew what was to be,’ Branoc said. ‘She knew what was right.’
‘Then why the shackles? Why had Ness been beaten?’
Branoc’s gaze went one way, the other way. He was wondering, perhaps, if there was any point in denying responsibility outright. ‘Ah, women,’ he said with a shrug. ‘There is no understanding them. Ness and I, we liked to play games. She would make a pretence of resisting. I would be forceful; women enjoy that. Perhaps, once or twice, our play went a little far, but I did not beat Ness, my lord, why would I do such a thing? I love her. She is my wife. A bruise or two, that is all part of learning. Besides, she is a creature of volatile moods, like many young women of her age. Time and experience will calm her.’
I thought I might be sick on the floor of Prince Oran’s hall.
‘You vile scum!’ shouted Grim, and before I could stop him he had charged across the chamber and put his big hands around the baker’s throat. It was the fire again, and the nightmare, and the way he had gone into the wood with death in his eyes. Only this time there were guards everywhere, and they pulled him away before he could kill the wretch. It took five of them, and by the time they hauled him off everyone was shouting. And above all the hubbub, now, came Branoc’s voice as he was released from Grim’s grip.
‘You pox-ridden cur, you stinking mongrel! More pity that you were not in the house when I burned it, you and the witch! Until you came here all was as it should be! I should have fried the two of you to cinders and rid the place of your accursed presence!’
Everyone heard it, and
the noise died down in an instant. But Grim was still fighting; the guards had his arms pinioned behind his back. The look on his face told me only part of him was there, and the rest was somewhere else, perhaps in Mathuin’s hall, perhaps in a time before that, when something had set scars on him as deep as Ness’s.
‘Take him out,’ the steward said to the men who were holding him.
Out where? Was he to be charged with unruly behaviour, attempted assault? Locked up in some dank cell? It would destroy him.
‘My lord,’ I said, ‘we are here to see justice done. I know Grim regrets his loss of self-control. If you will ask your guards to release him, I will give my word that such an outburst will not happen again. It has not been easy for either of us to be here today. We came for Ness’s sake, and for Emer’s. My lord, we need to witness the proceedings right to the end.’ I swallowed, then added, ‘Please, Prince Oran.’
The prince looked somewhat startled, as well he might be. ‘It is not your word I require, Mistress Blackthorn,’ he said, ‘but Grim’s. Grim, I understand the desire to take things into your own hands; to dispense summary justice. But that is not the way we conduct matters at Winterfalls. The open council provides a forum for grievances to be heard and settled; it provides everyone with the opportunity to express an opinion. Everyone. That extends even to a person accused of a heinous crime. Do you understand?’
Grim drew a ragged breath. ‘Yes, my lord.’ His voice was the growl of a hunting hound straining against the leash.
‘Curb your anger; it does not serve you well. Guards, release him. Grim, this is your only warning. Next time you will be removed from the hall.’
Grim did not look in the least contrite, but the guards let him go, and he came back to sit by me. He put his elbows on his knees and turned his gaze on the floor. I did not think he was ashamed of his outburst. I guessed he was keeping his eyes off Branoc, lest the desire to throttle the man became too much for him.