Free Lady Ilena by Patricia Malone

because of her youth, and because her father, Chief Belert, asks mercy, I have spent the hours since the battle ended looking for another way.
    “There are a few times—very few—in our history when the death penalty has not been exacted. The first requirement for setting it aside is that the Druid must certify that mercy is indicated.
    “I believe that it is in this case and will so notify the Council of Druids.
    “The second requirement is that you, Ilena's people, desire mercy.”
    A bench scrapes behind me as someone stands. “I stumbled during the battle yesterday.” It is Rory. “Ilena saved my life. I will follow her gladly. She is a good chief and she deserves mercy.”
    Cormec's voice rings out. “I've spoken once of her courage; I will speak again. She fought like one of the old heroes at the Ford of Dee. It took three of us to stop her from following our opponents back into their own territory.”
    “Aye,” someone calls. “I've not seen such a fine battle rage in my life.”
    There is a hum of conversation through the room.
    Belert looks out at the crowd and then gives me a slight nod of encouragement. I feel some of the fear start to drain from my body.
    Spusscio stands and waits for quiet before beginning. “Faolan and Andrina planned this. If Ilena is no longer chief of Dun Alyn, then Sorcha is the next heir, and Sorcha rides with Faolan now.”
    Someone in the back begins chanting, “Mercy! Mercy! Mercy for Chief Ilena!”
    Others take up the call until the hall rings with it.
    Gillis waits patiently for the chants to die down before he speaks again. “You have made a wise decision. Ilena is not a coward and does not deserve a coward's death. But the law must be satisfied.”
    He continues. “Ilena, you have heard your people.”
    “I have heard them,” I say, “and I am grateful to them.”
    “You understand that I must pronounce a judgment to satisfy the law?”
    “I do.”
    “The old codes provide two punishments other than death. You must choose between them. Turn now and face your people.”
    I do not want to look out over the hall, but I turn slowly and stand with my head held high and my fists clenched tightly at my sides.
    Moren told me always to look brave and under control no matter how I felt. I breathe a prayer of thanks for himand for Grenna. They taught me well, and I only wish that I brought honor to their memory instead of disgrace.
    Gillis's voice booms from behind me. “Ilena may stay at Dun Alyn and live out her life here—if she relinquishes her place as chief and does not ride with the war band again.”
    Give up being chief and riding with the war band? But that is my life. What would I do?
    Rory is sitting at a front table, and I can see the shock on his face. There is a stir as others react.
    Gillis raps on the table again. “That is one choice. The other”—he pauses until it is quiet—“is that Ilena must leave Dun Alyn—alone—and not return until she has accomplished tasks great enough to prove herself worthy to be chief of this fortress.”
    I'm stunned. Somehow I'd resigned myself to death, but the relief I felt when mercy was granted has turned to confusion.
    A life of dishonor, being reminded every day that I failed as warrior and chief, while someone else—Sorcha?—rules? I prefer death!
    Or exile, forced to go out alone in search of a hero's task. The prospect frightens me—but it is the only choice I can make.
    “Have you decided?” Gillis asks.
    The people in the hall seem to hold their breath, waiting for my reply.
    “I am a warrior, and I am chief of Dun Alyn,” I say. “Ihave failed in my duty to you, but I will not give up that high honor for safety.” I pause for a deep breath, then say firmly, “I choose exile!”
    People throughout the hall murmur and shift in their seats. Rory at least approves. He is smiling and nodding.
    “Wait, Ilena,” Gillis says. “Consider carefully. This is a dangerous time in Britain. Your father