Deryni Rising

by Katherine Kurtz

  Charissa looked disdainfully at the gauntlet for a moment, then caused it to fly to her hand, tossed it to one of her waiting guards. Then she bowed slightly and stepped a few paces closer to Kelson. Never had Kelson looked so terribly young and alone.

  "Art thou ready to begin, My Lord Kelson?" Charissa said, the words of long-formulated ritual rolling from her tongue with practised ease.

  Kelson nodded. "We are ready, My Lady Charissa.**

  Charissa smiled and stepped back a few paces,

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  raised her arms in a low-murmured spell. Instantaneously, a semi-circle of blue fire sprang up behind her, a graven line of sapphire ice which took in half the great circle of saints' signs.

  She lowered her arms and stepped back several paces more, then gestured patronizingly to Kelson.

  Kelson took a deep breath. Now was the supreme test. For if he could not answer Charissa's spell, it would mean that he had lost the gamble, that the power was truly lost. And he had felt nothing—no reassuring flicker of recognition when he stepped onto the Camber seal. He would not know until he tried his hand at magic for the first tune.

  Breathing a silent prayer to the renegade saint on •whose seal he stood, Kelson raised his arms above his head—a single, fluid movement as he had seen Char-issado.

  And unbidden, the words came to his lips—words he had never heard before, a low chant which made the air crackle with power around him in response, which seared a line of crimson fire behind him—a line which bent itself to the semi-circle shape required and joined the two arcs together in a complete circle, half red, half blue.

  Kelson controlled a smile as he lowered his arms, felt the power surge through him, became aware of myriads of spells controlling more power than he had dared hope for. AH around, he heard the low sigh of relief as his people realized he did, indeed, have the Haldane power.

  And that was not all. For deep hi the recesses of his mind, he was aware of the fleeting presence of two other entities—Morgan and Duncan. A swift impression of congratulation, confidence, rippled across his mind and washed into the innermost corners, then was gone.

  He allowed himself a slight, sardonic smile as Char-issa raised an eyebrow in surprise at his response to

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  her spell. But then he forced himself to concentrate on what must now follow as Charissa stretched out her arms and began another incantation. This one was in a tongue he understood, and he listened carefully, mentally pulling forth the response he would make when she finished.

  Charissa's voice was low but clear in the stillness of the cathedral.

  By Earth and Water, Fire and Air, I conjure powers to flee this Ring. I clear it now. Let all beware. Through here shall pass no living thing.

  As Charissa completed the verse, Nigel tugged hard on Duncan's sleeve. "Duncan! Does he know what she's doing? If he completes that spell and merges the two arcs ..."

  "I know," Duncan whispered grimly. "If he does, the circle can't be broken until one of them is dead. That's the way the ancient challenge runs."

  "But—"

  "It's partly for the safety of the onlookers, Nigel,** Morgan added weakly. "Without the confining circle, the spells sometimes tend to get out of hand. They're going to be dealing with fantastic amounts of power today, from many sources. I can guarantee you won't like some of what you see."

  "At least we know Kelson has Brion's powers," Duncan added as he watched Kelson spread his arms as Charissa had done. "Kelson was never taught these things."

  Kelson's voice was low, steady, as he answered Charissa's spell.

  Inside, aJl Space and Time suspend. From here may nothing outward flee Or inward come. The circle ends When two are one and one is free.

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  As Kelson finished, violet fire flared where the two arcs had been, the cold violet line now inscribing an unbroken forty-foot circle where the two must duel. As though on prearranged signal, both combatants then moved to opposite sides of the ring, each standing with perhaps five feet behind them and a stretch of some thirty feet between.

  Charissa quickly surveyed the limits of the ring, then bowed slightly. Her voice was slightly hollow in the magical confinement of the dueling stage.

  "My Lord Kelson, as Challenged, it is thy right and privilege to claim first blow. Wilt thou claim that right, or must the Challenger proceed?"

  Kelson bowed in answer. "My Lady Charissa, as Challenged, it is true that first blow is our right and privilege. However, in the face of so fair a Challenger, we concede the point. The first blow is thine."

  As Charissa smiled and bowed, Nigel nudged Dun-can again. "What the Devil is he doing?" he demanded in a harsh whisper. "He doesn't dare to give her any more advantage than she's already got."

  "That's just it," Duncan murmured. "He has to. It's part of the formal dueling rules that a man, even if challenged, concedes the right of first blow to a lady opponent. Kelson agreed to play by the rules, and that's one of them. Don't worry. The first spells are just testing spells."

  On the far side of the ring, Charissa stretched her hands out before her, palms together. Then, as she murmured something unintelligible under her breath, she drew her hands apart slowly. As she did, a sphere of blue light could be seen hovering in mid-air before her, slowly growing in size, until it reached human proportions and developed the features of a fighting man.

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  As soon as the thing's shape had stabilized—blue warrior-thing in blue mail, blazing sword in hand and blue shield on arm—it looked around the circle and spotted Kelson. Then, dripping fire and blue vapors, it cocked its head at the young King and began advancing cautiously across the circle.

  Kelson hesitated but for an instant. Then, putting right hand to closed left fist, he drew forth a glowing crimson sword. As the blue warrior-thing came within reach, lightning forked from Kelson's left hand, pinning the blue sword, while the crimson blade lopped off the thing's head. It struck the floor with a hollow sound, and then the apparition and Kelson's weapons vanished. Only a wisp of blue vapor remained.

  The people rumbled approval at their young King's prowess, then hushed as Charissa's nimble fingers began moving vexedly in the next spell. Even before she began the incantation, dark mists had begun to swirl around her, a hulking, dragon-shape to form.

  Drathon tall, Power come. Conquer all, Senses numb.

  Before she could begin the second verse, Kelson began the counterspett, and the mists began to recede.

  Drathon kill, Power fade. Senses still Conquer shade!

  Charissa's eyes darkened menacingly, but she said nothing. She had thought to have an easy victory, but it was obvious the boy knew much more than she'd

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  bargained for. Not that she doubted the outcome of the battle. No upstart boy with new-found powers could beat a full Deryni sorceress who'd been using her powers for years of practice. Still, there was no doubt her puissance was being challenged.

  Patiently, for she had the edge hi stamina at least, she began the standard testing spells, designed to feel out the weaknesses of her opponent. It would take longer this way, but the outcome, at least, was sure.

  Spells flew across the circle: attack and counter, parry and riposte, as those outside the circle watched. Charissa's men stood impassive in the aisle behind their mistress, long used to her activities in magic, concerned only that the duel should take no longer than necessary. There would undoubtedly be physical suppression needed on some parts of the populace once their mistress defeated this upstart prince, and they could hardly wait. Only the half dozen or so Moors watched the contest with any degree of real interest. For their people, too, claimed some acquaintance with magic, and they were always looking for a new spell.

  Among others who watched, there were much graver thoughts, however. As Nige
l watched the duel, spellbound by the horror of what might happen yet too fascinated to tear his gaze away, Morgan raised his head to look again, then touched Duncan's elbow lightly with his good hand.

  "Duncan..."

  Duncan looked down with concern, for Morgan's face had gone even paler than before, and the lines of pain were etched more deeply yet in the fine features.

  "What's wrong? Is the pain worse?"

  Morgan clenched his teeth and nodded weakly. "Fve lost a lot of blood, Duncan. I can feel my strength draining away. That burst of power we used to save Jehana almost finished me."

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  Duncan nodded. "What do you want me to do? How can I help?"

  Morgan tried to ease himself to a more comfortable position on the hard steps, winced as the movement set his wound on fire again.

  "You remember, I told you about healing Derry last night? Well, I've got to try to do it again, this time on myself.'* He brought his left hand up on his chest so he could see the Gryphon seal. "I think I know the way now, but you're going to have to help me. Support me, reinforce the direction of my thoughts, but don't interfere. I say that last because I think I touch on some areas that are—well, questionable."

  Duncan smiled faintly. "Are you trying to tell me you're dealing hi heretical alliances, Alaric?"

  "Possibly," he murmured.

  He glanced wistfully at the dueling area again and smiled as Kelson countered a particularly noxious beast from the nether regions, then shifted his attention to the seal on his left forefinger and began to concentrate. His eyes glazed slightly as he entered the first phase of the Thuryn trance; and as soon as he was well under, Duncan too began to gaze at the seal. The priest entered rapport easily and let his thoughts merge with those of his kinsman, letting himself be carried along the current of Morgan's mind, lending support and strength when called upon. At his very elbow, Nigel was not even aware of the new development.

  For Kelson, the time seemed to stretch interminably. And the succession of beasts and beings, real and mythical, which he had both battled and conjured, seemed like a half-remembered nightmare in the dark of some long ago night. Drathons and wyverns, cara-dots with their waving tentacles, gryphons breathing fire, Stenrects like the one he'd seen in the garden, ly-fangs—the list seemed endless. Even now Charissa was conjuring up some new terror that he must thwart

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  He straightened slightly and forced himself to pay closer attention, for he suddenly had the distinct impression that Charissa's latest spell was not nearly as routine or academic as the ones before had been.

  Even as her fingers moved in the strange new series of passes, Kelson had the chilling impression that this spell was a darker one than those preceding it. He strained to catch all her words as she began the incantation.

  "Spawn of Dagon, Bael's Darling, Heed my call, which bids thee here. Child of Thunder, hear my order. Come: I charge thee to appear.

  "Smite this young ambitious princeling. Shroud him in a cloak of flames. Help to wrest the usurped power Which Charissa justly claims!"

  As she spoke, there was a rumbling of thunder in the air before her, and a dense black vapor began to condense into a tall, shadowy form, vaguely manlike in shape, but with scaly hide and long claws and teeth.

  As it stood there for an instant, blinking confusedly in the brighter light than that to which it was accustomed, Kelson clasped his hands before him, a chilling sensation rippling around him as he realized he didn't have the proper counterspell at hand. As the creature recovered its wits and began ambling across the circle toward him, he began several spells haltingly and without effect.

  Mawing and shrieking its defiance, the creature continued to lumber slowly across the circle, dripping blue vapor and flames as it came, its eyes burning a fiery

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  red which flashed points of light throughout the cathedral.

  As the creature reached the half-way point, Kelson began to panic.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  you placed on bis head, O Lord a crown of

  precious stones.

  Jie asked life of >OM, and Jou gave it to bim. Psalms 2i:3~4

  As THE CREATURE continued to advance, another counterspell suddenly came to mind. Stepping back a few paces, Kelson's lips began to move in the spell, his voice becoming stronger as a feeling of confidence began to replace the panic.

  "Lord of Light, in shining splendor Aid me now, if Thou dost hear The supplication of Thy servant, Battling for his people here.

  "Lend me strength to smite this Demon. Send it to the depths of Hell. Cleanse this circle of the Evil Which Charissa doth compell!"

  As he completed the verse, Kelson raised both arms high in the air, then pointed decisively to a point but a few feet in front of him, not two strides from where the monster advanced.

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  Just at that moment, the sun burst from behind the clouds to stream through the high, stained glass windows of the cathedral, casting a brilliant, multi-colored pattern on the floor where Kelson pointed.

  As Kelson stood his ground, the monster lurched into the pool of light—and began writhing and exuding streamers of flame and smoke. It shrieked and screamed its rage and pain, thrashed in the color at Kelson's feet, but could not seem to leave the patch of light to get at the young King.

  Presently, its thrashing stopped; its shape melted away. And only wisps of pungent blue smoke and flickerings of gold and crimson light played on the floor where the thing had been.

  Kelson lowered his hand, the Ring of Fire winked ominously, and the sun chose that moment to go back behind the clouds. As a low sigh of relief rippled through the cathedral, Kelson raised his eyes to meet Charissa's. He stepped forward a few paces to address her, noted ironically that the spot where the monster had died, where he now stood, was the Saint Camber seal. He breathed a silent thank you to who or whatever had aided him.

  His eyes were bright with confidence as he spoke.

  "And now, Charissa, this must end. I shall no more my powers lend To please thy fancy. I defend My people, and thy power rend.

  "I swear by every Holy Name That I shall thwart thy evil aim. And further, I refute thy claim That Good and Evil are the same.

  "Therefore, gird ye for the fray. This is the final duel, I say. For while I live, the light of day Shall cease till thou art done away!"

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  As he finished his incantation, the cathedral grew dark. And outside the open doors at the end of the aisle, he could see that the skies had, indeed, darkened, even though it was not yet noon.

  Charissa swallowed hard, a look of apprehension crossing her face for the first time. She feared this test, but there was no choice. Her fingers began once more to move in the pattern of the acceptance spell.

  Thy boasts are fearsome, little lord, But I fear not thy lofty word. Threats are easy to afford.

  But I, too, weary of this game, So I accept thy test of flame. Beware! Tis / who rise to fame!

  And when this little farce is done, Then death shall come to Brion's son. And / shall be the ruling one!

  With the final word of the incantation, the two halves of the circle suddenly misted over with blue and red auras and became a hemisphere over the two. Where the two .colors met, a sparkling violet interface crackled brightly in the darkness—the only light in the cathedral save the candles and vigil lights.

  As each combatant stood his ground, the interface began to surge back and forth between the two,.giving and gaining as each sought out the other's weaknesses. It seemed a fairly even match for a time. But then the wall of violet fire began moving inexorably toward Charissa.

  As the hemisphere slowly turned to crimson, crowding out the blue, a look of fear bordering on terror came on Charissa's face. The deadly interface between her power and Kelson's advanced slowly but unwaveringly, and her eyes grew
wide and frightened as she re-

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  treated to the limits of her side of the circle. Her shoulders finally encountered the sleek, unyielding surface of the barrier ring and she stopped, unable to go any farther. As the crimson at last engulfed her, she let out a long, agonized scream, edged with fury, which slowly faded as she grew smaller.

  Then she was gone. And ring, crimson aura, and hemisphere were gone. And all that remained was a young boy garbed in shining white raiment, standing on the seal of a long-forgotten renegade saint, too dazed from his victory to hear the shouts which rose from the people who had watched and hoped with Mm.

  Outside, the darkness lifted, and the clouds began to roll away.

  With the shouts, Morgan opened his eyes and smiled, moved his hand to the wounded shoulder and found it healed. As Morgan looked up in wonder from the thing he had done, Duncan too opened his eyes, glanced at Kelson, then helped Morgan to his feet Morgan walked to the side of the still dazed Kelson to touch his shouider gently.

  The touch brought Kelson back with a start, and he turned to look at Morgan in astonishment.

  "Morgan! How did you—?"

  "Not now, my prince," Morgan murmured, gesturing toward the still cheering congregation and smiling. "You have a coronation to complete."

  He took Kelson's arm and led him back up the sanctuary steps to where his archbishops waited, stunned and frightened by what they had seen. As the cheering died down, Nigel stepped forward with the royal State cloak and draped it proudly around the young King's shoulders, elation apparent in every line of his body. And Jehana, released from her spell with the death of the Shadowed One, sat up weakly from

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  her place at the side and stared uncomprehendingly at her son.

  Kelson saw her look, and pulled away from those who were gathering at the foot of the altar to conclude the coronation. Gliding easily across the chancel, he came to a hesitant stop before her, then dropped to one knee at her feet.

  "You risked much for me," he whispered tentatively, hah* afraid to reach out to her. "Can you forgive me for going against your wishes?"