his seat again, and Pennar stepped away with a timid smile.
Now was Owain’s chance.
As he lifted his foot to take the first step toward the High King, Owain’s heart quailed. If he didn’t step forward, then Uther would never know his adversary stood in the crowd. Owain could slip into obscurity. Take his sin to his deathbed. Who would know?
Merlin would. And God would. Owain had been hiding for eighteen years, and the time had come to stand in freedom, whether Uther condemned or forgave him. Merlin had stood before Tregeagle and received punishment unjustly, with grace and strength. Shouldn’t I be willing to receive my own rightful judgment?
He strode forward, and it was one of the hardest things he’d ever done.
Before the inattentive Uther, Owain fell prostrate with his face to the horse-scented grass, saying, “Great Lord Uther. Your humble servant comes for your judgment.”
“And what complaint do you bring?” Uther said casually. “Has someone stolen your cattle?”
The villagers laughed.
“No, my lord. Rather, someone has a complaint against me.”
“A complaint against you? Where is your accuser? Maybe I scared him off.” This time it was Uther who laughed, and his wife tried to stifle her own mirth.
“My accuser is present, my lord, and he will soon make himself known.”
“Then accuse yourself,” Uther teased. “Ha-ha. Never did a man do that — except maybe Colvarth here!”
“My crime is that I forsook my friend and let him face death. And I did nothing to help.”
Uther stopped laughing.
“This is a serious thing before God,” the High King declared as he rose and limped slowly across the shelf of rock. “How do you plead?”
“Guilty, my lord.”
“Do you have anything to say for yourself? Why would you do such an ignoble thing?”
Owain’s legs shook. “Great lord, if I may be so bold as to beg a question … Have you … have you ever had a friend forsake you?”
Uther stopped. And paced again. Faster.
Owain saw through his fingers the king limping back and forth and his gaze darting. His lips curled in one silent word: Owain. He mouthed the word again. Soon the High King scanned the heavens and closed his eyes in a scowl.
Owain stood before Uther. “It is I … Owain … and I beg your forgiveness and mercy.”
Uther turned and pointed at him. “You,” he roared. “Deserter! You dare come before me?”
He jumped down, grabbed Owain by the tunic, and pulled him within inches of his face. The smell of mead was upon Uther’s lips as he snarled and threw Owain backward.
Shocked by Uther’s onslaught, Owain failed to catch his fall, and his breath was jolted away. The next thing he knew, he felt a blade at his throat and Uther’s knee on his chest.
“Traitor! Why did you leave? You had us thrown out of Dinpelder, and then you left,” Uther hissed. “I’ve waited for this day.”
“I left for love.”
“And where was your love for me? For Barthusek? For Abrans? Their bodies and twelve-score more were eaten by crows while you ran away to what? Your love!” He spit out the last word.
“Her father tried to murder her. I had to —”
“You had to what?” Uther raged. “Make him so angry he’d send his warriors to attack our rear guard while the foe bled us at the front? Did you know he did that?”
Owain felt the blade bite into his throat. “She almost died!” His heart beat wildly, as if the ocean itself tried to burst from his chest.
“I almost died! I hobble because of that day. And with every step, I curse your name.”
“What could I have done?” Owain asked, and he felt hot tears escape his eyes and run down to his ears.
“Stood by my side!”
“We both might have died. And Gwevian as well.”
“Die with me, then!”
Igerna knelt beside her husband with a steady hand on Uther’s sword arm. “Mercy, Uther,” she pleaded. “Did you not risk all for me? For my love?”
“That was different.” Uther swore, but the blade backed off, and Owain dared a breath.
“What price for our love?” she asked Uther. “What would you do to save my life?”
Uther leaped off Owain and away from his wife. He threw his sword into the tall grass and yelled on his way back to the Rock of Judgment, “A thousand Prithager! And you wouldn’t stand beside me. Ahh! The death I saw that day.”
Owain sat up and wiped his eyes. “I’m sorry … I ask your forgiveness.” His gaze shifted briefly to the crowd, which looked on as