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The men were still arguing, pointing toward the body. Brodie's body. Even from this distance Deirdre could see the sunlight glinting off the handle of the dagger—Alistair's dagger—that she had left lying on the table, ready to his hand when he stole out this morning without waking her.

She shivered as she remembered his words last night. "I don't need luck...tomorrow Brodie Maxwell dies."

"Nay!" she cried again.

Ronan's eyes were wide with shock as he followed her gaze. "'Tis best this way, Dee," he said uncertainly. "Have you not heard what they are saying at Ravenspur? They've known him for years and they believe he's capable of far worse than this."

"What are they doing?" Deirdre cried as Alistair's hands were bound and he was dragged to the center of the field.

"I think—I believe they are about to hang him," Ronan faltered.

Deirdre leaped from her horse and darted to the center of the field. "Is this justice?" she demanded. "In all fairness, he must be tried!"

Alistair was lifted to his horse, hands bound behind him, the noose around his neck. Still he did not speak, nor did he take his eyes from her. Deirdre began to shake, the strength draining from her limbs.

"My lord," she said hoarsely, turning to Jemmy. "You cannot let this happen. He is a Kirallen, entitled to justice. You cannot simply hang him!"

"Oh, aye, we can," Kinnon said, and lifted one hand to give the order.

Jemmy seized his wrist. "Donal," he ordered sharply. "You and Roger get Sir Alistair down from there. Now. He must stand trial."

Kinnon frowned, biting the corner of his lip. "At Cranston Keep."

"At Ravenspur," Jemmy said evenly. "He's ours, Kinnon, as little as I may like it. We'll see justice done. Tomorrow midday we'll begin."

Deirdre had just begun to breathe again when Alistair's horse reared. Donal and another knight struggled to push through the crowd as Alistair clung to the horse with his knees, trying desperately to control the stallion as he was dragged backward bit by bit, the noose tightening around his neck.

It was Ronan who slipped through and caught Alistair by the knees as he was pulled free from his horse. "Cut him down!" Ronan shouted, staggering beneath Alistair's weight.

Conal galloped over, the men scattering before his mount's steel-shod hooves. Deirdre watched him cut through the rope, seeing Alistair's struggles weaken and finally stop before it was done. When the last strand parted, he and Ronan fell together to the ground.

Deirdre pushed through the crowd about the tree. By the time she reached Alistair's side, he was sitting up, gasping and coughing as he tore the noose from around his neck and flung it aside.

"There's a taste for ye, Kirallen," one of the Maxwell's jeered, leaning over to spit into his face. "How did ye like it?"

"I liked it fine," Alistair said hoarsely as his foot shot out, sweeping the man's legs from under him. "How did ye like that?"

"Enough!" Jemmy thundered furiously. "Bring him back to Ravenspur for trial."

Deirdre watched as Alistair was pulled roughly to his feet, every inch of him blazing defiance. "Trial?" he cried. "Still playing laird, are ye, Jemmy? Well, enjoy it while ye can!"

"Oh, I will," Jemmy answered. "I'll enjoy every moment. My father cannot help you now, Alistair. 'Tis I you'll have to deal with. And by this time tomorrow, you'll be begging them to finish what they started here today."

Alistair was jerked backward and tied to his horse before he could answer.

"Alistair and I have some old business to settle," Jemmy said, struggling to compose himself as he turned to Kinnon.

"I see that," Kinnon replied thoughtfully. "Mayhap it will work out for the best after all."

"Lady Maxwell," Jemmy ordered. "Mount up."

"She can come back with me," Kinnon offered, holding out his arm to Deirdre.

Deirdre stared at the two men with loathing, not bothering to answer. Back stiff, she walked back to her horse and let Ronan help her mount.

"That was well done," she said, nodding to him as she picked up the reins.

"Was it?" Ronan scratched his chin and watched Alistair ride off through narrowed eyes. "Dee—" he began, turning to her suddenly.