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only fair that clanswomen should help judge her. Lord Athlone had agreed. And so four men---two elders, a warrior, and a weaver---and four women---the priestess of Amara, two wives, and a grandmother-gathered on a chilly autumn afternoon to decide Gabria's fate.

The sorceress shifted her weight again and pushed a strand of flaxen hair out of her eyes. The heat was growing worse. Beads of perspiration gathered on her forehead, and her long skirts hung on her like a heavy blanket. She wished the people would hurry and get this over.

Particularly Thalar. The priest's voice was still ringing loudly through the hall. With a small frown, Gabria tried to concentrate on what he was saying.

"I do not condemn the council of chieftains for releasing this woman from her justifiable execution," he cried, his voice thick with righteousness. "The chiefs were overcome with joy and relief at their release from the evil ambitions of Lord Medb. But they did not see then that they had only traded one evil for another. This magic-wielder," he pointed a finger at Gabria "still lives! The responsibility of wiping out this heretic has now fal en into our hands. We have a gods-given opportunity to show the clans of the Ramtharin Plains how we deal with magic-wielders. We do not tolerate them!" Thalar's voice rose to a thundering shout. "Khulinin, we must blot out this stain of sorcery before it spreads.

Fulfill the penalty of death. Kil the sorceress!" The words were barely out of the priest's mouth when the healer, Piers, leaped to his feet and demanded the right to speak.

"No! I am not finished,” Thalar shouted. He had the crowd's attention and wanted to press home his point.

Lord Athlone, however, had had enough of Thalar's rantings. "We have heard you for some time, Priest. Give the right to someone else. Piers, you may speak." The healer, ignoring Thalar's infuriated glare, turned to face the tyne. His pale skin and light, graying hair looked almost colorless in the dim light of the hal , but there was nothing lackluster about his speech. The old healer loved Gabria like a daughter and would have done anything to save her.

"Khulinin, I realize that I am not a blood member of this or any other clan. I am a foreigner to your ways and laws. Yet in the eleven years that I have been with you, I have never seen you act with anything but honor, courage, and loyalty. This young woman who stands before you has those same qualities in full measure.

"When Medb's men massacred her clan, Gabria did not crawl away in fear to die. She took the only way open to her to seek justice for the murder of her people. When she learned she had the talent to wield magic, she did not hide her power, she used it to save all of us. Gabria's methods were wrong by the strictures of your law, but they were the only methods available to her and she acted on them with courage and honor. The council of chiefs has released her from death for her use of sorcery. Can we now turn our backs on their wisdom and justice and kill her for striking back against an enemy stronger than even the warriors of this clan? She does not deserve death for that, she deserves our respect." For a moment the healer looked at each member of the tyne as if to seal his words in their thoughts, then he smiled at Gabria and sat down.

The watching clanspeople shifted and murmured among themselves.

Lady Tungoli rose next and claimed the right to speak. As widow of Lord Savaric and the mother of Athlone, Tungoli held one of the highest positions of status and respect among the Khulinin women.

Everyone listened quietly as she nodded to the tyne and began to talk. "I would like to speak for myself and for several witnesses who are not in this hall today,” she said. She did not raise her voice, yet her firm words were heard clearly throughout the hall. "For myself, I will only note that I agree wholeheartedly with the beliefs of those I am here to represent.

"The first is Lord Savaric. I knew my husband wel enough to say with complete confidence that he would never have ordered Gabria's death under these circumstances. He respected her for her courage, her intelligence, and her determination. If he were here today, he would examine her deeds, her motives, and her strength of character, as well. He would want you to do likewise.

"The other witnesses I wish to include are the Corins. Gabria's clan did nothing to earn their fate.

They were pieces in Lord Medb's game, pieces he discarded when they would not turn against their fellows. Gabria did not accept that fate. She fought back to redeem her clan's memory and to win justice for the murder of her family. The Corins would not have expected anything less, and neither should we."

"Perhaps there is another witness we should take into account, “added a man from the crowd, the Khulinin herdmaster. He looked toward Lady Tungoli, who nodded and relinquished the right to speak. "I mean the Hunnuli mare, Nara. Clanspeople have always loved and revered the ancient Hunnuli breed.

We believe that Hunnuli cannot tolerate evil in any form. And yet, if that is true, why does Nara love Gabria and stay with this admitted sorceress? Does the horse know something we do not about the quality of magic? I think the mere fact that a Hunnuli horse trusts and obeys Gabria says more for her heart than any of the guesses we can make." The herd-master quickly sat down.

Finally the bard, Cantrell, stood and turned his sightless eyes toward Gabria. His rich bass voice rang through the hal , capturing everyone's attention. "The herd-master has brought up an interesting incongruity. For years we have

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