Kelson’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and several of the Council lords mentally cringed. It was the old Haldane glare they had learned to fear and respect in the boy’s father. Was it possible that the boy would be able to continue in his father’s footsteps? That look had meant trouble in the old days.

Kelson nodded slowly. “Very well. I had intended Derry to vote in Morgan’s place in his absence, but since Morgan is here now, he can vote for himself. I think there will be no question how his vote goes.”

“Morgan cannot vote!” Jehana said. “He is on trial.”

“But he is still a member of the Council until convicted, Mother. Until and unless his powers and prerogatives are stripped away by lawful action, you cannot deny him his vote—especially since he was not even allowed to speak in his own behalf.”

Jehana leaped to her feet, her face red with fury. “And if you cannot deny him his right to vote, neither can you deny me mine! Since you decided to join us and assume leadership of the Council, I am no longer so bound. And I say Morgan is guilty as charged, which brings your vote to six to five against him. Your precious Morgan is doomed, Kelson! What do you say to that?”

Stunned, Kelson sank back in his chair, his face going pale as the import of his mother’s words overwhelmed him. He could not look at the tall figure standing so statue-like to his right. He could not force himself to meet those gray eyes and admit defeat. Dejectedly, he let his gaze sweep the Council once more. And as his glance flicked from Derry to the empty seat beside him—Lord Ralson’s empty seat—a ghost of a plan began to take shape in his mind.

He forced himself to continue his visual circuit of the room, forbidding any indication of growing hope to show on his features. He must not let them guess that he now had a plan. He had not heard the bells toll three yet, and until they did, he must stall for time whatever way he could.

He sat up and folded his hands wearily, allowing an expression of resignation to shape his features.

“My lords,” he began, letting a trace of real weariness tinge his speech, “it seems that we have lost.” He gestured vaguely to include Morgan and Nigel in his “we.” “I—I would beg your indulgence in one more matter before I pronounce sentence, however. I would request that the full charges against General Morgan be read out first. Are there any objections?”

Jehana controlled a victorious smile and sat down again. “Of course not.” She picked up the writ and handed it across to Ewan. “Lord Ewan, would you read the charges in their entirety?”