Chapter 19: The Winter Moon

The great hall held every Alpha in the kingdom and four hundred wolves behind them.

Torches burned along the walls.

Through the high windows the Winter Moon hung white and enormous over the Tarn.

The king sat on the black chair on the dais.

I stood below it in a grey gown, with the infirmary book in my arms.

Beside me stood Cinder Row's first seat at the court.

It was the old woman, in a clean shawl, leaning on her ladle.

She had said the king's chair gave her a sore back.

"Wolves of Hartmoor," said Lucan. "I will not raise my voice, and I do not want it raised in answer."

The hall went quiet.

"On the Harvest Moon I sentenced Linnet Marwood to the silver chain."

"I said she had poisoned my nephew."

"I was wrong. Tonight you will hear why."

A murmur rose.

"Alpha Aldous of Marwood," he said. "Stand."

My father stood.

He was grey in the torchlight, and his hands were shaking.

"You will speak," said the king. "And you will say it plainly."

My father looked at me once.

Then he turned to the packs.

"The line was mine," he said. "The ring was mine. I stood in the yard and I watched."

His voice cracked, and steadied.

"I have nothing to add to that, and nothing to take from it."

The murmur grew.

"Who held the cup?" asked the Alpha of Stonefall.

My father did not look up.

"Odessa," he said. "My elder girl."

He sat down heavily.

No one made a sound.

Perrin laid the hollow ring on a cloth before the dais.

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