The Long Laird was surprised, the druid knew. Most men would have asked for a tract of land, or a string of ponies. The boy asked for nothing, for, even without his heroics, it was unlikely his request for travel would have been denied. The old man smiled. ‘You seek too little from me, tribesman. I grant your wish to travel south -and more than that I shall supply a fine horse and a sword. Come to my house after the trials are concluded.’ Connavar bowed and returned to the crowd.
The Long Laird levered himself painfully to his feet. He was a tall man, and had once been the most powerful warrior in the north. Even now he was a formidable figure. Tucking his useless arm into his wide belt he approached the prisoner. ‘You are accused of a crime most dreadful, the penalty for which is death by drowning. There is no physical evidence with which to convict you, which is why Brother Solstice is here. He is, as you can see from his white robes, a druid. Of his many skills the one which should concern you most is his ability to detect lies. He will question you. I urge that you speak the truth.’
‘I will speak the truth, Lord,’ said the man. ‘For I have nothing to fear.’
‘Tell us then your name and your tribe,’ said the Long Laird.
‘I am Lexac of the Ostro tribe. My father is a merchant and sent me here to acquire exclusive rights to ship and sell the oiled woollen coats crafted in the Isles.’
The Long Laird turned to Brother Solstice. The druid rose and walked forward to stand before the prisoner. Dipping his hand into the pocket of his robe Brother Solstice produced a small black rat which he held high, gently stroking the fur of its back.
‘Let us be clear, Lexac of the Ostro, about what is to take place here. I shall ask you questions, and you will answer them. If you speak the truth no harm will befall you in this place. If you lie, great will be your pain. Do you understand what I have said?’
‘Yes,’ said Lexac, his eyes watching the rat.
‘Good. This is my little helper. He is the Truth-seeker.’ Brother Solstice raised his arm high above his head. The sleeve of his robe slid down, revealing the powerful muscles of his forearm and biceps. The black rat sat up in his hand. Then vanished. The prisoner blinked. ‘The Truth-seeker has gone,’ he said. ‘But he will return. Now, you say you were sent here to buy rights to the oiled wool.’
‘Yes,’ answered Lexac.
‘Think carefully before you answer the next question. Three killers met their deaths two days ago. Did you know them?’
‘Yes I did.’
‘How so?’
‘I saw them on the ship, and spoke to them. Two of them were known to me before that.’
‘Did you ride with them after you landed?’
‘Yes, for a time.’
‘But you were not with them when they came across the victim and his daughter?’
‘No, I—’ The prisoner suddenly convulsed, his back arching. Blood sprayed from his mouth. The crowd gasped as something black pushed itself from inside the prisoner’s mouth. The black rat scrabbled clear of the man’s lips and leapt to the waiting hand of Brother Solstice. Lexac fell to his knees and vomited. Two guards came forward and hauled the prisoner to his feet. He was trembling uncontrollably, his eyes wide and staring at the small creature in the druid’s outstretched hand. Once more Brother Solstice raised his arm. Once more the rat disappeared. The prisoner screamed.
‘Be calm!’ ordered the druid. ‘Speak the truth and you will not suffer. But lie once more and the Truth-seeker will appear deep in your belly. Then with fang and claw he will tear himself a way to freedom. Do you understand?’ Lexac nodded dumbly, blood dribbling from his torn lips.
‘You were with them when the deed was done?’
‘Yes.’
‘You took part in it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Was the dead man known to you?’
‘Yes. He was a rival of my father’s.’
‘Also seeking the rights to the oiled wool?’