Deryni Rising

by Katherine Kurtz

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  with Alaric and Kelson. There would be little he could say to explain his part in last night's escapade.

  He cleared his throat uncomfortably and finally decided he would have to tell Nigel something. At least he could depend on the duke to keep his secret should it become necessary to tell all.

  "We were at the tomb last night, Nigel. And we did open Brion's sepulcher," Duncan began slowly "I won't even try to deny it." He clasped his hands together uneasily. "When we left, though, the tomb was sealed, and Rogier and the guards were alive. Needless to say, we had no part in their deaths."

  Nigel shook his head uncomprehendingly. "But, why, Duncan? Why open the tomb in the first place? That's what I don't understand."

  "We ran a far greater risk if we didn't open it," Morgan interjected. "Brion's ritual for Kelson called for something that was buried with him by mistake. We had to have it; nothing else would do. So we had to open the tomb." He glanced at his hands, at the two rings winking there. "As it was, it's a good thing we did. Brion was under a—a shape-changing spell. It had also bound his soul to some degree. We were able to break the spell and free him, though."

  "Oh, my God!" Nigel murmured. "And you're sure that's all you did?"

  "No," Morgan continued. "We also took what we had come for in the first place: the Eye of Rom. Kelson didn't want to just take it, so Duncan gave him the crucifix to leave in its place. We never dreamed that anyone would reopen the tomb after we'd gone."

  "Well, they did," Nigel whispered, shaking his head. "Poor Brion. And poor Kelson. You're all going to be blamed for it, you know, regardless of what you say. Alaric, what are we going to do?"

  Before Morgan could reply, there was a pounding at the door, and Nigel's head jerked up apprehensively.

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  "O Lord, that's probably Jehana! And she's found out about the crucifix. You'd better let her in before she has the door broken down!"

  Before anyone else could move to intercept, Kelson glided to the door and slipped the bolt. As expected, an angry Jehana came trouncing through. But Kelson was quick to force the door closed behind her before any of the guards in her company could enter with her. Jehana was so furious, she did not seem to notice that fact, however, for she immediately stalked up to Morgan and Duncan and began to berate them.

  "How dare you!" she whispered through clenched teeth. "How dare you turn on him like this! And you, Father Duncan!" she whirled on the priest. "You call yourself a man of God. Murderers have no right to that name!"

  She whipped out her left hand to disclose Duncan's gilded crucifix, now stained to a deeper, redder hue, and brandished it before the priest's eyes.

  "What do you have to-say for yourself?" she demanded, never raising her voice from the low, deadly tone in which she had first started. "I defy you to give me a rational explanation for what you've done!"

  When Duncan did not answer, she turned her attention back on Morgan, was just about to start on him again when she saw the Eye of Rom glittering darkly in Kelson's right ear. She froze, as though unable to believe what she saw, then turned oil Kelson in a cold fury.

  "You monster!" she spat. "You misbegotten creature of darkness! You would desecrate your own father's tomb, you would murder for this power! Oh, Kelson, see what this foul Deryni curse has brought you to!"

  Kelson was speechless, chagrined. How could she believe such a thing of him? How could she have gained such a warped sense of truth, to link him and

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  Morgan with last night's terrible deed in the cathedral? "Jehana," Morgan said quietly, "it's not what you think. We were—"

  Jehana turned on him in a cold fury. "I don't want to hear about it!" she snapped. "And I forbid you to presume you know what I think about anything, you —you fiend! First you corrupted my husband, perhaps even brought about his death for all I know, now you're trying the same thing with my only son, and Rogier—poor, innocent Rogier, struck down and most wickedly murdered while he guarded the remains of his dead king. . . ." Her voice broke. "Well, you can just take it from there by yourself, Deryni. Because I don't intend to lend even token support to what you're about to do. And as for you Kelson, I wish you'd never been born!"

  Kelson went white. "Mother!" "Don't call me that," she replied, turning her face away from him and edging toward the door. "I want nothing further to do with you. Let Morgan take you to the coronation. I have no wish to see the throne of Gwynedd usurped by a—a..."

  She began to sob bitterly and buried her face in her hands, her back to Kelson and the others. Kelson started to go to her, to comfort her, but Morgan forbade it with a sharp glance. If there was to be even a slight chance of success, they would have to have Jeha-na's support, even if given under duress. It was tune to play the trump card.

  "Jehana?" he called softly. "Leave me alone!" she sobbed. Morgan crossed to her side and began speaking to her in a low voice. "Very well, Jehana. I'm through coddling you. We're going to have to get a few things straight right now, and there isn't much time. Kelson is innocent of what you charge him with, and—"

  "Save your Deryni lies for someone else, Morgan,"

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  she replied, wiping her eyes and moving her hand toward the door latch.

  Morgan stepped between her and the door and leaned back against the latch, looking her directly in the eye. "Deryni lies, Jehana?" he asked quietly. "You use the term rather profusely, don't you think? Especially for one like you."

  Jehana froze, a look of cautious bewilderment on her face. "What do you mean?"

  "Don't look so innocent. You know what I'm talk-nig about. I only marvel that I didn't think of it long ago. It would have explained so many things you've done through the years."

  "What are you talking about?" Jehana demanded, almost backing off in the face of Morgan's confident demeanor.

  "Why, your Deryni blood, of course," he said calmly. "Tell me, is it on your mother's side, or your father's side, or both?"

  "My Deryni bl—Morgan, you're mad!" she whispered, her eyes wide with fear, betraying the doubt in her own mind.

  Morgan smiled slowly. "I don't think so. Kelson has strong Deryni background from somewhere, and we both know it wasn't from Brion."

  Jehana forced a laugh. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. Why, everyone knows how I feel about the Deryni.**

  "Some of the most vociferous Deryni haters in history have been Deryni themselves, Jehana, or with some *taint' of Deryni blood. Those who have studied these things say it comes from buried guilt feelings. It's what happens when a people bottle up their true selves for generations, perhaps; when they deny their true heritage."

  "No!" Jehana blurted. "It isn't true. If it were, I would have known!"

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  "Perhaps you always have, in a way." "No! I never—"

  "Can you prove it?" Morgan replied mildly. "There's a way, you know."

  "What?" Jehana whispered, shrinking away from

  him.

  Morgan took her arm, pulled her closer to him. "Let me Mind-See for myself, Jehana. Let me clear up the matter once and for all."

  Her eyes grew wide with horror, and she tried to pull away. "No! No, please!"

  Morgan did not release his grip. "Are you willing to make a bargain, then?"

  "What kind of a bargain?" Jehana whispered. "Very simple," Morgan continued conversationally. "I think we both know what I'd find if I did Mind-See you. But to spare you that, I'm willing to let you keep your little illusion for a while longer—on one condition."

  "Which is?"

  "You will come to the coronation and at least support Kelson outwardly. You also will not attempt to interfere in whatever must be done in the course of today's events. Agreed?"

  "Is this an ultimatum?" Jehana asked, some of her spirit returning.

 
"If you wish," Morgan replied calmly. "Which is it to be? Do I Mind-See, or will you cooperate with us, at least for today?"

  Jehana dropped her gaze from Morgan and glanced furtively at Kelson. Morgan's threat was a powerful one. And because Jehana had suspected her origin, had considered the possibility of Deryni ancestry, the threat was all the more terrifying. She was not willing to accept it yet. And therefore, the coronation seemed infinitely the lesser of the two evils.

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  She raised her head, but would not meet Morgan's eyes.

  "Very well," she whispered, her voice small and subdued in the quiet room.

  "Very well what?" Morgan insisted.

  "Very well, I'll go to the coronation," she answered reluctantly.

  "And you'll behave yourself? You won't make a scene and embarrass us? I promise you, Jehana, all will be resolved to your satisfaction. You won't be disappointed. Trust us."

  "Trust you?" she murmured. "Yes, I suppose I have no choice at this point, have I?" She looked down. "I —I won't make a scene."

  Morgan nodded and released her arm. "Thank you, Jehana."

  "Don't thank me, Morgan,'* she murmured, opening the door. "Remember that I am acting under duress, against my better judgement. I have no stomach for what must be done. Now, if youTI excuse me, I'll meet you hi the procession later."

  At a signal from Morgan, Nigel roused himself and went with Jehana, closing the door softly behind them as he went through. After a short pause, Morgan turned back to Kelson and Duncan and sighed.

  "Well, it looks as though we must act on events as they occur from now on. There are no further preparations to make, no safeguards we can take. I'm sorry I had to be so rough with your mother, Kelson, but it was necessary."

  "Is there really a chance Tm part Deryni, Morgan?" the boy asked. "Whatever gave you that idea? Or is it just a ruse to get Mother to cooperate?"

  Morgan shrugged as he motioned the two to the door. "We don't know for sure, Kelson. There are strong indications that you are part Deryni, and under other circumstances I could simply Mind-See you to

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  verify. But I don't think either of us can spare the energy drain at this late date just to satisfy our curiosity. You're far better off to rely on Brioh's powers for today."

  "I understand," Kelson said.

  "Good. Let's begin the procession, then," Morgan concluded. "Duncan?"

  "Ready," the priest replied.

  "My prince?"

  Kelson took a deep breath.

  "Let it begin," he said.

  Charissa raised her head and took her eyes from the crystal into which she had been gazing.

  "So the little Queen is part Deryni," she murmured, "lan, can't you stop that pacing? You're making me nervous!"

  lan stopped almost in mid-stride and made a half-bow in Charissa's direction. "Sorry, my pet," he replied good-naturedly. "But you know how I detest waiting. I've anticipated this day for many months, now."

  "I am aware of that," Charissa said, adjusting the sapphire coronet on her pale hair. "If you will just be patient, though, you will be amply rewarded."

  lan nodded and raised a goblet in toast. 'Thank you, love. And what of Jehana? Do you think she is Deryni?"

  "If she is, I can handle her," Charissa shrugged nonchalantly. "The least of my worries this morning is an untrained Deryni of unknown parentage who won't even acknowledge her ancestry."

  lan stood up and buckled on his sword, then picked up his golden cloak and flung it over his arm.

  "Well, I'd best get going, then. The procession will be forming. You're sure you won't let me reveal myself until the last possible minute?"

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  Charissa smiled wryly. "No, you may not make your entrance with me," she said. "And if you are called upon to assist me openly, it will be to destroy Morgan at all costs. Is that clear?"

  "Perfectly, love," lan said with a wink. He paused with his hand on the door latch. "I'll see you at the church."

  When the doors had closed behind lan, Charissa returned her attention to the crystal on the dresser before her. In it, she could see approximately what Morgan saw—all that lay within the scope of the large stone in the general's badge of office. She caught a glimpse of Kelson in his State coach to Morgan's left, then the view straight ahead, beyond the ears of the black charger Morgan rode.

  Soon, they would be at the cathedral. It was time she, too, was on her way.

  As Morgan drew rein before the Cathedral of Saint George, he glanced around suspiciously as he had done at least a hundred times during the slow procession to the cathedral. Beside him and slightly ahead, Kelson's open carriage had also come to a halt, and now three bishops and two archbishops were waiting to escort Kelson from the carriage to his place in the new procession being formed.

  Archbishops Corrigan and Loris were scowling darkly—Morgan guessed they must have heard about the desecration of the crypt by now—but at least Bishop Arilan was extending a warm smile to his young king. Duncan was standing well back from the archbishops, trying both to be near Kelson to lend him moral support, and to stay well out of reach of his superiors.

  As Morgan swung down from the great warhorse, he nodded to Duncan. Then he signalled for Derry,

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  scanned the crowds anxiously as Derry saw him and hurried to his side.

  "Trouble?" Derry asked.

  "It could be," Morgan replied, jutting his chin in the direction of Kelson and the archbishops. "Have you seen anything out of the ordinary?"

  "No sign of Charissa, if that's what you mean, M'lord," Derry said. "The crowd is odd, though. Almost as if they know something's going to happen."

  "Well, they're right about that," Morgan retorted. "Something is." He scanned the buildings ahead, then gestured for Derry. "Do you see the bell tower adjoining the cathedral? I want you to go up there and keep a lookout. She'll have to bring some troops with her, so she can't just appear. Your warning should give us at least five minutes before she arrives at the cathedral."

  ' "Right," Derry nodded. "When do you think she'll make her move, sir?"

  "Probably hi about an hour," Morgan said. "If I know Charissa, she'll wait until the coronation is well underway before she interrupts. She knows that we know she's coming, so she'll be counting on our own minds to increase our dread."

  "She's accomplishing that already," Derry murmured.

  As Derry slipped away to take up his watch, Morgan worked his way over to Duncan, dodging scurrying choir boys and servers, and also doing his best to stay out of sight of Loris and Corrigan.

  "What's happening?" he asked in a low voice, as he slipped alongside his cousin.

  Duncan raised an eyebrow. "My friend, you will not believe what I'm about to tell you. Corrigan was so upset about what happened in the crypt, he threatened to call the coronation off. Kelson managed to soothe his ruffled feathers, and then Loris started in. He

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  wanted to arrest you, suspend me, and was seriously considering taking Kelson before a heresy tribunal."

  "God, what next?" Morgan murmured under his breath, rolling his eyes.

  "Don't worry," Duncan continued. "Kelson straightened him out. He threatened to banish him and strip away his temporal powers for even thinking such a thing. And then he hinted to Corrigan that any further dissent and he might end up banished, too. You should have seen old Corrigan. Even the thought of Arilan or some other bishop taking over Rhemuth and its estates was enough to scare him speechless."

  Morgan let out a sigh of relief. "Do you think they'll cause any more trouble? We don't need a religious confrontation today, on top of everything else."

  Duncan shook his head. "I don't think. They backed off muttering indignantly about heresy and other bad things. And I can guarantee they're not happy I'm still in the ceremony. But there is
n't much they can do if they want to keep their own positions. Even Loris isn't that much of a fanatic."

  "I hope you're right," Morgan said. "I assume you were able to stay out of their way until we arrived.'*

  "Only by means of some judicious shuffling. Fm hoping to avoid that confrontation indefinitely."

  An altar boy in gleaming white surplice and red cassock scurried up beside Duncan and tugged at his sleeve urgently, and Duncan moved off to take his place in the procession. Even as he left, a page appeared at Morgan's elbow with the sheathed Sword of State and indicated where Morgan should stand in the line.

  As Kelson passed on his way to his appointed place, Morgan tried to flash him an encouraging smile, but the boy was evidently too shaken to notice. Loris and Corrigan were on either side of him, and they glared at Morgan as they passed. But Arilan, behind them, nod-

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  ded pleasantly to Morgan with a little secret smile which seemed to tell him not to worry.

  Damn those archbishops anyway! They had no right to upset the boy this way. He had a lot on his mind— more than any fourteen-year-old should be expected to contend with. And two dour and hostile archbishops were certainly not doing anything to ease the situation.

  Someone evidently gave a signal then, for the boys* choir at the head of the column suddenly began singing the processional. The line began to inch ahead: first the choir, then a bevy of altar boys with scrubbed faces and spotlessly clean white surplices over then* crimson cassocks, all carrying tall candles in gleaming

  silver candlesticks.

  Behind them came a thurifier swinging pungent incense at the end of a long golden chain, followed by a deacon carrying the heavy gilded cross of the Archbishopric of Rhemuth. Following the cross came the Archbishop himself, resplendent in vestments of white and gold, tall crazier in hand, jewelled miter adding several feet to his height, his face set and grim.

  Kelson came next, walking under a golden canopy supported by four scarlet liveried noblemen. He was flanked by Archbishop Loris and Bishop Arilan, both of them in vestments matching Corrigan's, both wearing the tall miters of their offices. They were followed by four more bishops.