“Aye.”
“Geese?”
“Aye. He’ll take the lot of those, if we’d let ‘im.”
“So,ourfood goes toGallabrae.”
Dunstan’s eyes widened, his confidence faltering. “Uh…nay, yer lairdship, not…notall!”
“And what do we get in return?”
Dunstan’s face brightened. “Easterling silver, yer lairdship. For yer coffers, o’ course.”
“My…coffers?” Flanders’ voice was icy.
The man’s gaze dropped to his boots, his cap twisted in his hands. “Erm…”
Flanders leaned closer, his voice low and dangerous. “Do ye remember why Todlaw was built, Dunstan?”
The big man swallowed hard. “For protection.”
“Aye, that too. But from the start…everyone works, everyone eats, everyone fights, and no man—or woman—is better than the next.”
Dunstan nodded, still nervous, finally suspecting the trouble he was in.
“Turn around and face the people of Todlaw,” Flanders said quietly. When the man had done so, Flanders waved for Ailis and Heslington to come to the fore and do the same. Then he returned to his chair against which his sword was propped and pulled it from its sheath. No one breathed as he returned to stand behind the three villains.
From his vantage point on the edge of the dais, he could easily see every hungry face. And though he didn’t know whether or not they could judge fairly in their current state, he would still let them decide the futures of those who had betrayed the Oath of Todlaw.
“Good people,” he began, “I will remind ye that I am the most at fault here. I failed in my duty to ye, and I mean to right the wrongs done in my absence. Even when I was in residence, I was blind. But no more.” He sucked air deep into his chest and let it out in a whoosh. “Now, ye must choose the punishment for these three who also betrayed yer trust. Mercy." He drew out the options. "Banishment...or death. It is up to ye.”
He lifted his sword tip over the head of Ailis first, then lifted a brow and waited for the verdict.
It took a moment for the crowd to realize what was expected. It was one of the scullery maids who shouted first. “Banishment!”
Ailis flinched.
Others took up the call. “Death” was suggested by only a few, each time making the woman jump with surprise, but none cried out for mercy. A hard pit of dread ate into Flanders’ gullet when he realized Ailis’ depravity might have been harsher than he knew. Eventually, banishment was adopted by all, and he moved the tip of his sword over Dunstan’s head.
Banishment brought the most enthusiasm, but eventually, calls for mercy made those enthusiasts reconsider. In the end, the Master of Beasts was offered forgiveness.
Flanders had to hide his smile, for their undeserved kindness renewed his faith in the people of Todlaw. But Heslington would be another matter, if the crowd had truly understood the greed and callousness involved. Although, he wouldn’t tell them the extent of what he’d uncovered thanks to yesterday’s celebration.
Most had been on hand to see the reshaping of the steward’s character. Clearly, they now feared him. And though this was their chance for revenge, there were, again, only a few cries for blood.
“Banishment,” Flanders said behind Heslington’s head. “For ye, that is mercy indeed.”
The man turned and sputtered. “M…m…mercy? Banishment is no mercy! Ye have yet to see yer coffers, Laird Leesborn! Ye don’t know what I’ve done for this clan! Ye cannot send me away without giving me the chance to?—”
“Justify yerself?”
“Indeed!”
“Justify this. How many bairns might have died from yer greed?”
“Bairns?”
“Aye. They cannae eat silver.”
