Glenna cradled her father’s head as tears streamed down her cheeks. He tried to nod; drool ran from his gaping mouth, his chest heaved with each breath.
Then his curled arm lifted from his chest, his good eye rolled toward the chairs, and his emaciated wrist hooked toward Vaughn Hargrave.
“Mon-ster,” he slurred and then gasped, and his eyes rolled back in his head.
Tavish went to Iain’s side, and he looked to the king. “My liege, we should return him to his bed.”
James nodded and motioned to his guards. “A moment, though. This man has risked his life to be in this court today, and so it is only just that he remain the last few moments to hear my judgment.” All eyes were on the king when next he spoke, and it was as though everyone in the hall held their breath.
“It cannot be disputed that Tower Roscraig has rightfully been bequeathed to Tavish Cameron,” the king said. “And as I can think of no lawful reason to deny him his birthright, I declare that he is laird of Roscraig, recognized fully by the Crown.”
Glenna looked to Tavish and he smiled when Harriet gripped his shoulder.
“However,” the king continued, “I cannot in good conscience declare that Glenna Douglas’s claim is without merit, considering the trials she and her father have suffered in the years since Iain Douglas took guardianship. The loss of a mother, a wife; of livelihood and community. Therefore, in reparation for the damage done to her reputation in the preceding months, and to condone in the eyes of the church the relationship that has perhaps already been begun, I decree that Tavish Cameron and Glenna Douglas shall be married.” The crowd gasped. And then the king added, “Immediately. Call for my priest. Hurry, man—Douglas is fading.”
“What is happening?” Glenna asked as Tavish pulled her to her feet and Harriet took her place beneath Iain’s head.
“You can’t refuse,” Tavish murmured, bringing her to stand before the table. “The king commands it.”
“I object,” Hargrave’s voice rang out. “What of my investment? Thirty years of taxes that went into your coffers!”
James sighed. “Very well, Hargrave. If I grant you a boon, will you leave my presence?”
Hargrave’s face mottled. “If the amount is sufficient.”
James shot to his feet and roared, “Whatever I determine shall be sufficient!” He reined his temper and sat as the priest approached Glenna and Tavish. “The equal of five years’ taxes. Do you agree, Cameron?”
Tavish nodded. “Aye, my liege.”
“But, my liege,” Hargrave began in a cajoling tone, “only five—”
“You were never under obligation to Roscraig, Hargrave,” the king said, cutting the complaint short. “Consider yourself fortunate to recuperate anything at all, and that I have no evidence to bring charges against you this day.” James looked away from him and flicked his fingers at the priest. “Go on.”
In moments, Glenna was answering the priest numbly, listening to Tavish respond in kind. There was a blessing, and polite applause rose in the hall.
“Is that all?” she asked him. “Is that really it?”
“Are you disappointed?” He smiled into her face. “Because I’m not.”
“I have spoken my judgment,” the king said. “You’re all dismissed. I’ll return to Edinburgh at once where the madness is of my own making.” He stood from his chair and quit the room, leaving the audience to bow at his passing.
The guards appeared. “Should we take him now, milady?”
Glenna nodded and pulled her hands from Tavish’s. “Aye. Follow me.”
* * * *
Iain was tucked into his bed at last, his color gone now. Glenna knew he was at last slipping away. But his voice called to her, a groan, a click of tongue. She leaned close.
“Dubhán,” he whispered.
Glenna felt her face crumple. It truly was time, and he knew. He was at last asking for the monk’s blessing.
“I’ll go,” Tavish said. “I would have Hargrave’s coin in his hand and send him on his way before I truly do kill him.”
Iain moaned.No.
“’Lenna.”
