"It may be granted," Diarmid allowed, "if I hear good reason. Wherefore should I give it?"
"Because she is in herself a most admirable woman, my lord, good-hearted and generous to the core, more the victim of foul men than a villainess herself. This may be seen in her rule of the peasant villages she conquered and held, for, though she was stern in her justice toward the strong who preyed upon the weak, she was gentle and wise in her care of the poor. Even after, as we journeyed here, she aided me in the putting down of a band of outlaws, true rogues, who preyed upon the folk of the village of Aunriddy. Further, she aided my brother and me in bringing the witch Moraga to this court, for justice. Already she has begun to render service to Your Grace, and is worthy of your indulgence. Accord her mercy, restore her to your favor, and she will be a source of strength for the Crown and the realm all her days."
"It may be so." Diarmid steepled his fingers. "But I must have more substance than your word alone, Sir Geoffrey."
Quicksilver, though, did not. Inside, she was melting rapidly.
The Duke raised his head, calling out. "Who speaks in favor of this woman!"
"I!" Cordelia stepped forward. "I, and my fiance!" Diarmid looked up without surprise. "Do you speak for this woman, brother?"
"I do," said the Crown Prince, and the room was a-buzz with gossip again.
Diarmid waited it out, then asked, "What do you know of this woman?"
"Only what a shield-mate may learn, for we fought side by side against the bandits of County Frith," Alain said. "I can say without doubt that she is strong-hearted, intent on doing good, on defending the weak and punishing the wicked. She is indeed a lady grown, though mayhap not a lady born."
Diarmid nodded, and looked down at Cordelia. "And you?"
"She has helped me to heal," Cordelia said, "both the folk who had fallen ill as a result of the depredations of those bandits, and the bandits themselves, when they had fallen to her and her band. She is compassionate and gentle to those she deems within her care, kind and understanding—and once her word is given, she is loyal to it, and to whomever she has pledged it."
"Strong virtues indeed," Diarmid said, nodding. "So she used herself and her bandits to defeat a band of brutish outlaws. From this may we see her loyalty to the Crown and to the force of Right, as well as the moderation of justice of her own rule over the villages she took and held."
He raised his face to the courtiers. "I judge this woman to be right and virtuous, and a pillar upon which the Crown may lean. She shall not hang."
The crowd went wild, and Quicksilver went weak at the knees. She concentrated very strongly on simply staying upright, holding hard to the arm that reached out to support her—then realized it was there, and followed it up to Geoffrey, whose eyes were glowing into hers again.
For once, she was speechless.
The tumult slackened, and Diarmid called out, "She may not be free of all punishment, however! Hear now my sentence—that she must send her bandits to Runnymede, there to toil for some years in the Royal Army!"
It was wise, Quicksilver realized—it removed her outlaws from the chance of Count Laeg's vengeance, at the same time that it put them under the Crown's control. For herself, she had no great argument with being closer to Geoffrey for a few years...
"Yet she herself shall not abide there long," Diarmid proclaimed.
Quicksilver looked up, alarmed.
"She shall ride the roads and paths and trackways of this kingdom for five years! She shall ride as a knighterrant rides, defending the weak and curing the ill!" He turned and looked up at his parents. "That is my verdict, Majesties, and my sentence upon her! Is it to your liking?"
King Tuan nodded judiciously, but Queen Catharine said, "She has been an outlaw, and a desperate one."
"True," King Tuan said, "but she has begun to atone for her banditry, in putting down a band far worse than her own."
"But she did steal half a county."
"Aye, but she did as little damage as she might, in hewing her way to power, save in striking back at those who came against her, intending to deprive her of life, liberty, and virtue."
"I do not doubt that," Queen Catherine agreed, "and her peasants were well governed withal. Still, we cannot have her loose in our kingdom on her parole alone. She must ride in the company of a trusted knight, one who will accept responsibility for her and hold her tightly within his own regard, to ensure that she does not seek to flee to the greenwood again."
"Well thought, Majesty." Diarmid bowed his head, then turned back to them.
Quicksilver stood holding her breath, taut as a tripwire. "Sir Geoffrey," Diarmid said, "will you undertake to ride with this woman five years, and keep her within the law?"
"My lord," said Geoffrey, "I will."
"And you, lady?" Diarmid turned to Quicksilver. "Will you accept the justice of this court, and the company of Sir Geoffrey?"
Quicksilver turned to stare at Geoffrey, saw not only the desire and longing in his eyes, but, yes, surely, the love, too. "My lord," she said, her voice growing faint, "I will."
Never taking his gaze from hers, Geoffrey reached out and took her hand—and right there in front of the whole Court, he asked, "And will you marry me?"
She stared at him, swallowed, and fought against every urge within her as she said, loudly and clearly, "Nay, Sir Knight, for I could not wed a man who cannot understand me well enough to know why I have called myself 'Quicksilver.' "
"Why," Geoffrey said, "it is because you are bright and quick and enticing—but if a man should try to catch and hold you, you would be gone, for you would slip away through his very fingers." His voice sank low, caressing, wooing. "Do I not know you, then?"
She could not answer, for her throat had gone too tight; she could only nod.
"And will you marry me?" he asked again.
She found her voice, enough to whisper huskily, "Nay, for I cannot be safe abed with a man unless he loves me so dearly that he will kneel to me, to beg my favor." Slowly, Geoffrey knelt, never taking his gaze from her face, never losing his slight, glowing smile. On bended knee, he asked a third time, "My lady, will you marry me?"
"My lord," she said, "I will."
EPILOGUE
Moraga followed the maid back to her chamber, chatting excitedly about her pardon, and the thrill of going to Runnymede—but as soon as the door was closed, she tore her dress off and threw it in the corner with a curse. Howling with rage, she snatched the bowl off the washstand and swung it back to hurl against the wall ...
And saw Grommet standing there in the sunlight from the arrow-slit.
She froze, face going empty, shocked not so much at having one of her agents see her in her shift, but at having him see her with all masks dropped. She recovered quickly—what had he really seen, after all? Only the beginnings of a tantrum, and Heaven knew they had all seen her in that before, in full spate. She flung the bowl with all her might, shouting an obscenity. Grommet ducked with a yelp; the bowl flew where his head had been, and shattered against the wall.
"All right, all right!" he called from behind a chair. "Next time, I'll knock!"
Moraga/Finister caught herself on the verge of a laugh and held it down to a smile of vindictive satisfaction. "Oh, of course you can't! Mustn't have the servants seeing me let you in, must we? Well, what are you doing here?"
"Waiting for orders," he said, coming out from behind the chair.
Come to gloat, more likely—but she didn't say it aloud, only shrugged. "The plan remains unchanged. We go along with the Gallowglass as far as we can."