Chapter 681: Tribunal’s Verdict (Part One)
Ashlynn’s condemnation hung heavy in the damp autumn air, weighing down on everyone who heard the fierceness and venom in her voice. As gentle and mild as Ashlynn had been with Eamon and Daithi as they described their life in Sir Ollie’s village, when she spoke of Darragh’s treachery, it was as though she had become an Inquisitor condemning a heretic.
For a moment, the soft crackle and occasional pop of the campfire and the muffled sounds of horses shifting in the night were the only sounds that could be heard. Among the soldiers and servants watching, everyone held their breath following Ashlynn’s pronouncement as they waited for the tribunal of knights to respond. Even Marcel, often one to fidget with a knife or fiddle with the bits of lace at the ends of his sleeves, had gone still as he focused his attention on the knights who served Owain Lothian.
"Lady Ashlynn," Sir Rain said awkwardly as he unconsciously flinched back from the venom dripping from her words. "I admit that this Darragh has broken his word. You took him into your domain, gave him shelter and an enviable life by all accounts. But does it really rise to the level of betrayal? At most, isn’t he just a runaway?"
"Just a runaway?" Ashlynn said, raising a brow at the portly knight. "Even if that were all he’d done, it would still be a grave offense. But it wasn’t as simple as running away now, was it? He tried to tell you that you were approaching a trap. He was a trusted man with knowledge about many secrets that cannot easily be shared. To run away with that knowledge and tell tales about what he had seen is much more serious, don’t you think?"
"I, I suppose that it is," Rain said, swallowing a lump in his throat as he stared into the coldest pair of emerald eyes he’d ever seen in a woman’s face. "But how can we know what he was going to say if we don’t let him speak? I think we should hear from the man himself what he intended to tell us so we can judge his crime."
"Mang uum, mran u, emmmeee eeerm," Darragh mumbled into his gag, straining against Eamon’s grip on him as he all but lunged toward his last hope to be heard.
"Constable Daithi, take out his gag so the tribunal can hear what he has to say," Sir Rain commanded imperiously, attempting to regain some of his stature by reminding people that he and the others on the wagons were noblemen with every right in the world to command the commoners around them. He might not be able to influence Lady Ashlynn, but he could still put her men in their place.
"Stay your hand, Constable," Ashlynn said, even though the man hadn’t made the slightest movement to follow Sir Rain’s order. "You should never let a traitor speak at his own trial," Ashlynn continued as though she were recounting sage wisdom. "He has nothing to be gained by telling the truth of his crimes and everything to gain by spreading lies or divulging secrets."