With a sob, Jehana reached out and took his hand, cradled it in hers, held it to her lips. "Please don't ask me that now," she whispered, tears wetting his hand as she held it. "Only let me be glad you're alive."
Kelson squeezed her hand, blinking back his own tears, then pulled away and got to his feet. He smiled down at her as he backed off a few paces, bowed, then turned and went back to those waiting for him at the altar.
As Kelson knelt on the altar steps once more, everyone but the archbishops and bishops drew back and knelt also. Then Archbishop Corrigan, Archbishop Loris, and Bishop Arilan elevated the jewelled crown of Gwynedd, reciting the ancient formula of coronation as they did.
"Bless, we beseech Thee, O Lord, this crown. And so sanctify Thy servant, Kelson, upon whose head Thou dost place it today as a sign of royal majesty. Grant that he may, by Thy grace, be filled with all princely virtues. Through the King Eternal, Our Lord, Who lives and reigns with Thee in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God forever, Amen."
This is what the people saw and heard.
But to those of Deryni blood, it was rather a different sight. For to them, a fourth figure supported the crown above Kelson's head—a tall, blond man garbed in the shining golden raiment of the ancient High Der-
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yni Lords. And to those of Deryni blood, there was rather a different message superimposed over the traditional coronation formula. The shining stranger used the ancient Deryni formula, which bespoke quite a different destiny for the brave young King he crowned.
"Kelson Cinhil Rhys Anthony Haldane, I crown thee in the Name of the Almighty One, Who knows all, and in the name of him who was long the Defender of Humankind. Kelson Haldane, thou art King for Human and Deryni. Life and Prosperity to thee, King of Gwynedd!"
As the crown touched Kelson's head, the Deryni-seen apparition vanished, and Morgan and all the others stood while Kelson was invested with the rest of his insignae of office.
As they waited for the prelates to finish, Morgan turned slightly to Duncan, whispered in a low tone, "Duncan, did you see what I saw?"
Duncan nodded almost imperceptibly.
"Do you know who it was?" Morgan persisted.
Duncan glanced at him sidelong, then returned his glance to the investiture. The clergy were swearing fealty now, and soon it would all be over.
"Let me guess," Duncan whispered. "It was your mysterious stranger."
This time, it was Morgan's turn to nod. "You don't think it was Camber, do you?"
Duncan shook his head and frowned. "He spoke in the name of Camber, which makes it even more of a mystery."
Morgan sighed slightly, then straightened his cloak. If he pulled it over just a trifle more, it would nearly cover the jagged hole in his tunic, and the blood down his side.
"I'm glad it wasn't Saint Camber," Morgan whispered, just before mounting the steps to do homage to j
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the new King. "I dislike being the target of Heaven's special favors. It makes me uncomfortable."
With that, he stepped before Kelson and dropped to one knee, let Kelson take his two hands between his own. Morgan's voice rang out strong and clear in. the hushed cathedral as he recited the ancient formula.
"I, Alaric, Duke of Corwyn, do become your liege man of life and limb, and of earthly worship; and faith and truth I will bear unto you, to live and die, against all manner of folks. So help me God."
As Morgan rose to receive the royal embrace, other nobles—Nigel, Ewan, Lord Jared, Kevin McLain, Derry—all came to repeat th6 words of homage, to swear fealty to their new King. Morgan once more took up the Sword of State, holding it naked and upright beside his King, as all the great lords and barons of the land came to swear their allegiance. Then they began to form for the procession from the cathedral.
The ecclesiastics passed on through the transept and began to recess down the aisle. Charissa's retainers had melted into the crowd on her death, and now the throngs proclaimed Kelson, with one voice. But as Kelson and his attendants reached the transept, the sun chose that moment to again come out from behind the clouds.
Once again, jewel-toned sunlight streamed through the high stained glass, throwing a pool of color at Kelson's feet. Kelson stopped, and the cathedral became hushed hi fearful expectation as they stared at their new young lord. For there had been death before in the colored sunlight.
Kelson glanced up at the window and smiled, glanced around at the hushed sea of faces. Then he stepped calmly into the light.
There was a long sigh of wonder which swept through the still nave then. For there was no death in the sunlight now. The pool of rich sunlight merely sparkled on
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Kelson's gems, blazed on his crown like a thousand sunrises.
He turned aside to glance at Morgan and Duncan, motioned them also to step into the light. They obeyed without hesitation.
The light glittered on Morgan's golden hair, on his rich velvet cloak, turned the snowy whiteness of Dun-can's surplice to a rainbow of rich color. And then the three continued down the aisle.
As the procession followed, the crowds began jubilant cheering, with heartfelt cries of, "God save King Kelson! Long live the King!"
And the King of Gwynedd went out of that place to show himself to a grateful people.
Katherine Kurtz, Deryni Rising
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