"Could she not have taken refuge in a cottage?"
"We inquired of many Highlanders, Majesty. No one has seen her."
"But if you have no proof of her death, why do you wish to have her declared dead?"
"Her clan is left without leadership or protection. Majesty. There are but two helpless maidens left to lead the MacAlpin clan." Gareth puffed up his chest and stood straighter.
"I would be willing to wed the next eldest, Brenna, and offer the protection of my men."
"How very gracious of you." Meredith"s tone frosted over.
"If I grant your request, and you wed Brenna MacAlpin, you will claim her land as your own?"
""Twould be my right. Majesty. But in return I would pledge my armies to the protection of her people."
"So, if you were to acquire the MacAlpin properties there would be no more lads murdered in the night, my lord MacKenzie? There would be no mysterious visits from this Highland Barbarian, who has been blamed for the deaths of every man, woman, child and sheep in Scot- land?"
At the queen"s sarcastic outburst Gareth felt the first tremor of alarm.
"The Highland Barbarian is dead. Majesty. Have you forgotten that I killed him?"
"I have forgotten nothing. This occurred during your attack upon his home, I believe."
When Gareth nodded she asked innocently,
"With this Brice Campbell dead, why would the MacAlpins need your protection?"
He paused. He had not expected this question.
"There are others who would prowl the darkness in search of those weaker than they. It has always been thus."
"Others? Are you suggesting that some of the murders along the Border may not have been committed by Brice Campbell?"
He was taken aback by that.
"I--would suppose that is true."
"Some murders of Borderers may even have been committed by Borderers?"
Where was the queen leading him?
"I do not know. Majesty."
"Come now, my lord MacKenzie. Have you no idea who might have gone about murdering innocent lads?"
"Nay. I know not."
"But I know." She got to her feet and stood facing him, small, elegant, regal. Her voice rang with authority.
"Your queen must care about all the people in her realm. Even an insignificant Border lad who dares not walk about a darkened lane lest he be put upon by those bent upon destruction."
Gareth shivered. She knew about Duncan"s grandson. His mind raced.
"Young MacAlpin was murdered by the Highland Barbarian. I myself witnessed it."
"What an amazing man this barbarian is," Meredith said, her voice like ice.
"He can be in two places at once."
Gareth began to protest, but her next words stopped him.
"When you were witnessing this murder, Brice Camp- bell was entertaining your queen at his Highland castle."
A loud murmur rippled through the crowd.
Gareth"s mouth opened but no words could come out.
"Do you still Wish to state that you were there when the lad was murdered?"
"Perhaps I was mistaken." Gareth, feeling a sheen of moisture on his forehead, stumbled about for some explanation to smooth over his awkward situation.
"Perhaps I came upon him moments after."
"And you did not actually witness his murder?"
"I..." He stared at a spot on the floor.
"Nay, Majesty."
"But it was your knife that was found bloodied. A knife you said was taken from you and plunged into the lad"s heart. You told all who would listen that the blame lay with the Highland Barbarian."
Gareth was stung by her harshness. The woman was publicly humiliating him.
"I--did not recognize the men who murdered the lad, Majesty. But I thought one of them to be the Highland Barbarian."
"As you thought many times, my lord MacKenzie. Have you not accused Brice Campbell of every Border incident for the past two years?"
There was a long pause, and Gareth felt the monarch"s gaze leveled on him. He chose not to respond to her attack.
"Now about this matter of Meredith MacAlpin."
Gareth stiffened at the dark mood of the queen.
"I request that your Majesty declare her dead."
Meredith pointed a bejeweled finger at the man who stood trembling before her.
"I declare that Meredith MacAlpin is alive."