Daggerspell - Katharine Kerr [195]
“Very well,” Rhys went on. “But I’m minded to show you mercy. I’ll admit, brother, that I said hot and insulting words to you, admit it publicly and freely. Yet, the offense is a grave one.”
The priest rose and began quoting from the laws.
“No man may draw upon the gwerbret. Why? Because the gwerbret is the very flesh of the law itself, and there must be no bloodshed in his hall. Why? Because no lord would sit in justice if he thought the condemned would revenge himself with steel.” The priest sat down again.
“So some redress must I have,” Rhys said. “If you kneel there and beg my pardon, pardon is what you’ll have.”
With a wrench of his body, Rhodry got to his feet.
“I won’t. I’d rather hang.”
Gasps, murmurs from the crowd—Rhodry even heard Jill yell at hint to kneel—but he stared straight at Rhys.
“I’ll give you another chance. Kneel and beg.”
“I won’t.”
“One last chance. Kneel and beg.”
“I won’t.”
Rhys’s mouth twitched in a smile of bloodlust. Rhodry refused to break. This time, by every god, he’d face his hanging like a man and redeem himself.
“You leave me no choice but to hang you.”
Cullyn stepped out of the crowd and flung himself down to kneel before the gwerbret.
“Your Grace? Last night you gave me your sworn word that my lord’s life was safe from you.”
Rhys caught his breath with a little explosive puff. Cullyn’s face was so impassive that anyone who knew him could see that he’d realized what was bound to happen and had laid up a weapon against it. Rhys knew it, too, judging from the way he swung his head to look at Cullyn with a remote, impersonal hatred.
“So I did. And no Maelwaedd ever breaks his sworn word. Well and good, captain. I hereby commute your lord’s sentence of hanging to exile.” He turned back to Rhodry. “Henceforth you will be banished from all my lands, from the lands of all men loyal to me, and you will be stripped of all rank and position, all lands and properties, except for one horse, one dagger, two pieces of silver, and clothes such as any man wears. Never use the name of Maelwaedd again, for the head of your clan has cast you out of it.”
While the guards cut Rhodry’s hands free, the chamber of justice was utterly silent; then Lovyan sobbed in a gasping gulp of mourning that broke the silence like dweomer. The onlookers began whispering, then talking in a rising tide of noise that brought Rhys to his feet to yell them into silence. Once he had the silence, he turned back to Rhodry.
“And do you have anything to say about your sentence?”
“I do. You’ve finally gotten what you wanted all along, haven’t you? You’ll have the taxes from the tierynrhyn when Mother dies. I hope you spend every cursed copper well, brother. May you choke on the food you buy with it!”
Rhys’s face turned scarlet. If it weren’t for the table between them, he would have lunged forward, but Rhodry threw back his head and laughed.
“Someday the bards will sing about this. The miser gwerbret who was so hungry for silver that he ruined his own brother’s life.”
The priests leapt up, grabbed Rhys by the arms, and hauled him back.
“Well and good, then,” Rhys snarled. “You have till sunset to get off my lands. You’d best ride east cursed fast.”
• • •
Cullyn left the sobbing Lovyan to her womenfolk and ran after Rhodry as the guards marched him away. He caught up with them down by the gates of the dun, just as the guards slammed Rhodry back against the stone wall and snarled at him to stay where he was while they fetched his horse. His berserker fit gone, Rhodry turned to Cullyn with numb eyes.
“My thanks and my apologies, captain. But cursed if I’d kneel.”
“I wouldn’t have either, my lord.”
“Never call me my lord again.”
“Well and good then, Rhodry.”
Rhodry gave him a faint smile. Cullyn wondered if Rhodry were going to break and weep; he wouldn’t have held it to his shame if he did.
“Now, listen, lad. About ten miles this side of Abernaudd is a village and a tavern called the Gray Goat. Ride there, tell the