“It would be cruel indeed for a brother to kill his brother, so that he could take those things his brother possessed,” Margaret said. Her voice was less steady than before, and her face was sickly pale, but she held her head high. “Cruel and unnatural. Should such a crime be committed, it is hard for me to imagine what a just penalty might be for the perpetrator. Such an act is a horror far greater, I believe, than an attempt to stop a misguided attack on a settlement of sleeping folk, who have nothing in their hearts but grief for lost kin, and a will for peace. Do you not think so, you who sit in judgment here?” She turned, looking each of them in the eye: Olaf Sveinsson, Harald Silvertongue, the sea captain, the Wolfskin guards, the men of the court standing motionless around the hall, riveted by the unfolding drama. It was very quiet, so quiet that the rustle of small creatures could be heard in the roof thatch. Last of all, she looked at Somerled. “Do you not think so?” she asked, and her voice was as steady as a rock now, and as hard.

“What I think is immaterial,” said Somerled smoothly, “since no such crime is under consideration here, and for all Eyvind’s wild accusations, there is not a single unbiased voice that can speak out in support of him.”

Margaret smiled. It was a smile to chill the very marrow: the smile on the face of a player as she moves the last piece into place, in anticipation of certain victory. “I see,” she said sweetly. “I feel a little faint, brother-in-law. I haven’t been well lately. I think I might sit down. A cup of water, maybe. Thank you, Ash,” she added as one of her men hurried up with a high-backed chair. She moved aside and seated herself gracefully; it was only those very close, such as Eyvind, who could observe how her hands were shaking. “As you see,” Margaret went on, “I have not come alone. This is the lady Nessa, heir to King Engus of the Light Isles. She has traveled here in my safe keeping. Here is your witness, Wolfskin. Here is your voice of truth.” Margaret closed her eyes a moment, swaying where she sat. Olaf Sveinsson moved swiftly to fill a cup and set it in her hand.