Rory ignored him. “Take the religious zealotry out of it and you’ll find minor but important infractions being punished with stocks and pillories. Every colonial reenactment park has the photo op with the stocks, but did you know they used to nail perpetrators’ ears to the wood? Upon release, they’d either tear their ear off or have it cut off.”

“Holy shit,” McCrea said.

“Well, we’re not doing that,” Victoria said.

“What, then?” McCrea pushed. “A public flogging?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he looked like he wanted to bring them back.

Victoria sat taller. That wasn’t a bad idea.

“Flogging?” McCrea asked, incredulous as he saw the idea take root in her mind.

“Why not?” Victoria asked. “Maybe that’s the perfect solution. It’s humiliating for the guilty party, cathartic for the townspeople.”

“It’s goddamn barbarous!” McCrea said.

“What do you suggest, then?”

“Whatever not flogging is.” He pointed to Rory. “Say something, Doc.”

“I think it might be the perfect solution,” Rory said.

“Quit saying things, Doc.”

Rory expounded, “Look, do you or don’t you agree, Major, that there’ll be a rebellion if Brandon-Lee May walks away without any consequence?”

McCrea didn’t want to answer.

Victoria said, “Come on, Joe. It’s not an unreasonable question.”

“I guess I agree that something has to be done, but—”

“We’re not talking about breaking any bones,” Rory said. “There’ll be superficial damage to the skin and it will hurt like a son of a bitch, but as long as the lashes are controlled and limited to his back, there shouldn’t be any life-threatening complications. And, as Vicky mentioned, the crowd will be appeased.”

Victoria pressed her palms to her eyes again, but the headache would not be intimidated. “We need rules,” she said. “Written rules.”

“Because articulating rules makes torture more legitimate?”

Victoria glared.

McCrea backed off. “Okay, that was uncalled for. Sorry. I’ll find some paper and something to write with.”

When they were done, and they’d agreed upon the language, Victoria said, “Rory, do me a favor, please. Find Ty Rowley down at the lumberyard and tell him we’re going to need some rope.”

* * *

The entire recess lasted less than an hour. When Victoria rapped the court back in session, all the same faces were in all the same places, as far as she could tell. The faces displayed a wide variety of emotions, from anger to pity to concern. All but Brandon-Lee, who looked like he didn’t give a shit.

That would make what was coming far easier.

When Victoria saw her boys sitting on the windowsill at the back of the room, they gave a little wave. She acknowledged with a nod.