Deryni Rising

  Her head jerked up. "You wouldn't dare!'*

  "Wouldn't I?"

  She measured his gaze imwaveringly for several heartbeats, then turned away resignedly and gestured to her ladies.

  'Xeave us."

  "But, Morgan, I don't understand. Why would she do a thing like that?"

  Morgan and Kelson were walking along the outskirts of the boxwood maze, approaching a broad reflecting pool in the center of the main gardens. As they walked, Morgan kept a surreptitious watch for intruders, but no one seemed interested in their movements.

  Morgan glanced at Kelson, then smiled. "You ask why a woman does something, my prince? If I fully understood that, I'd be powerful beyond my wildest dreams. After your mother discovered my Deryni background, she never gave me a chance to try."

  "I know," Kelson sighed. "Morgan, what did you and Mother quarrel about?"

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  "You mean most recently?"

  "I suppose so."

  "As I recall, it concerned you," Morgan replied. "I reminded her that you were nearly grown, that one day you'd be King." His gaze lowered. "I never thought it would be so soon."

  Kelson snorted bitterly. "She thinks Tm still her little boy. How do you convince a mother you're not a child any longer?"

  Morgan considered the question as they came to a halt at the edge of the reflecting pool. "Frankly, I don't know, my prince. Mine died when I was four. And my aunt who raised me, the Lady Vera McLain, had the good sense never to belabor the issue. When my father died and I came to your father's court as a page, I was nine. And royal pages, even at that age, are no longer children."

  "I wonder why royal princes are different," Kelson mused.

  "Perhaps princes take longer," Morgan observed. "After all, royal princes grow up to be kings, you know."

  "If they get to grow up," Kelson muttered.

  Rather dejectedly, the boy sank down on a smooth rock by the reflecting pool and began pitching pebbles into the water, one by one. And as each pebble splashed, the brooding grey eyes followed the ripples until they vanished, watched as the concentric rings spread and dissipated into nothingness.

  Morgan knew this mood, and knew better than to interfere. It was that air of concentration and deliberation, so hauntingly familiar in Brion, that was as much a part of the Haldane mold as grey eyes, or strength of arms, or diplomatic cunning. It had been Brion's lot; his brother Nigel had it in full measure, and would have made a formidable king had it not been for the accident of birth which made him second son instead

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  of first. And now, the youngest of the Haldane line stood ready to claim his birthright.

  Patiently, Morgan sat down to wait. And after a long, silent moment, the boy raised his head to gaze reflectively out across the water.

  "Morgan," he began quietly, "you've known me since I was born. You knew my father better than any man I know." He pitched another pebble, than turned his head toward Morgan. "Do you—do you think Til ever be able to fill his place?"

  Fill his place? Morgan thought, trying not to let his pain show. How do you fill an empty place in your heart? How do you replace someone who's been father and brother for almost as long as you can remember?

  Morgan picked up a handful of pebbles and rolled them hi his hand, forcing himself once more to put aside his sorrow and concentrate on the matter at hand.

  Brion was gone. Kelson was here and now. Now he must be father and brother to the son, even as the father had been to him. That was how Brion would have wanted it.

  He flipped a pebble into the pool, then turned to his —son.

  "I'd be lying if I said you could replace Brion, my prince. No man could. But you'll be a good king—perhaps even a great king, if I read the signs correctly." His voice became brisk, matter of fact

  "Brion provided well for you. From the time you could sit unaided, he had you on horseback daily. Your fencing masters were the finest to be found anywhere, your skill with the lance and bow prodigious in a child twice your age.

  "You studied the annals of military history and strategy, languages, philosophy, mathematics, medicine. He even let you touch on the occult arts which would someday be such an important part of your life

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  —in defiance of your mother's wishes, I might add, though this was carefully concealed from all who might have objected.

  "There was a more practical side to your education, though. For there was infinite wisdom hi the seeming unorthodoxy of allowing a young and sometimes fidgeting Crown Prince to sit at his father's side in the Council chambers. From the beginning, though you were probably unaware of it at first, you acquired the rudiments of impeccable rhetoric and logic that were as muck Brion's trademark as any feat of swordsmanship or valor.

  "You learned to counsel and receive counsel wisely and unpretentiously. And through it all, you were made to understand that a wise king does not speak in anger, nor judge until all the facts are before him."

  Morgan paused in his oratory and looked down at his handful of pebbles, as though surprised to realize he still held them. Gently, he tipped his hand and let them drop to the ground.

  "I probably shouldn't tell you this yet, Kelson, but I think in many ways you may be even better equipped for rule than Brion was. You have a certain sensitivity, an appreciation of—life, perhaps?—that I'm not sure Brion ever really grasped. I don't suppose it made him any less a king, and he listened dutifully to the philosophers as well as the warriors. But I was never sure he really understood them. I think perhaps you do."

  Kelson stared hard at the ground between his legs, blinking back tears of remembering. Then he raised his head and looked out across the pool once more.

  "I know that's meant to be reassuring. But it doesn't really answer my question. Or rather, it answers the question I asked, but I didn't ask the right one. I suppose I really wanted to know about the Shadowed One's role in all of this."

  Morgan raised one eyebrow warily. "What about

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  her?" he asked, remembering what Nigel had told him.

  Kelson sighed in exasperation, "Now, Morgan, if you start evading, we'll get nowhere. I already know that Father won and held the kingdom partly through magic. You told me that yourself. And I also know why you were at Cardosa three months after the new treaty was signed. She's been behind it all the time, and I don't understand why everyone is so loath to talk about it. I'm not a child."

  Morgan shifted uneasily. This was the crucial point If the boy had truly managed to get an accurate picture of what happened, there was a reasonable chance for success even at this late date. Cautiously, he looked across at Kelson. "Did Brion tell you the Shadowed One was involved?"

  "Not in so many words. But he didn't deny it, either.'*

  "And?" Morgan urged.

  "And—," Kelson began, searching for exactly the right phrasing. "Morgan, I don't think my father died of an ordinary heart attack. I think there was something else involved. In fact, I think the Shadowed One—"

  "Go on."

  "I think the Shadowed One somehow killed him with magic!" the boy finally blurted.

  Morgan slowly smiled and nodded his head, and Kelson's face fell. "You already knew?" the boy asked, amazement and indignation written across his face.

  "I suspected," Morgan amended, relaxing to a more comfortable position on his hard rock seat. "Nigel told me what you'd discussed with him, and I agree. Now, suppose you tell me exactly what. happened on that hunt. I want every detail you can remember."

  When all of the ladies-in-waiting had left the room,

  Jehana stood slowly and met Nigel's determined gaze.

  "You play a dangerous game, Nigel," she said

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  softly. "Even if you are Brion's brother, I remind you that I am still your Queen."

  "But Kelson is
my King," Nigel answered quietly. "And what you propose to do to him, by destroying Morgan, borders dangerously close to treason."

  "Treason?" Jehana asked. "I thought we had agreed to reserve that label for Morgan. I don't call protecting my only son treason."

  "I made no such agreement about the label," Nigel replied evenly. "And, yes, I call it treason if it endangers Kelson. Without Brion's powers, you know he doesn't stand a chance. And Morgan is the one man in this world who can help him regain those powers."

  "Brion's powers didn't save him."

  "No, but perhaps they can save Kelson."

  "I don't see it that way," Jehana said, her voice deepening. "I see that Morgan is the one man who could destroy my son in the ways that really count— that is, where his soul is concerned. And I see that it was Morgan's evil influence from the start which corrupted Brion—that unspeakably profane Deryni power which contaminated everything Morgan touched. I can't stand by and see the same thing happen to my son."

  "Jehana, for the love of God—" Nigel began.

  Jehana turned on him in a cold fury, her eyes blazing with a chill light Nigel had never seen there before. "Don't you dare bring God into this, Nigel! You have no right to invoke His Name for anything! If you support Morgan, you condone the Deryni heresy. And might I suggest, dear brother, that your own soul may be in danger from even your slight proximity to that man!" She turned away abruptly.

  Nigel bit his lip and forced himself to control his rising anger. The discussion was going just as it always did, except that this time religious zeal had gotten the better of Jehana's common sense. He knew it was no

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  use to continue the argument, yet he had to do it, even though he already knew the outcome. Perhaps blunt-ness would be a better tactic.

  "I won't argue theology with you, Jehana," he said tensely. "But there are some things about Brion that you ought to know before you go off condemning his soul to that special hell reserved for consorters with heresy. For one thing, Brion's powers were his own. He didn't receive them from any outside source, Deryni or otherwise. The authority and potential Brion held have been handed down through our male line since the time of Camber and the Restoration.

  "Certainly, Morgan helped Brion to realize his potential. He guided him in the use of the resulting powers. But the potential was Brion's, born in him, just as it is in every male child of the Haldane line; just as I carry it, and my sons,- and Kelson."

  "That's preposterous," Jehana stated flatly. "Such powers couldn't possibly be hereditary."

  "I didn't say that the powers were passed on automatically—only the potential to carry them. One Haldane can hold the powers at any given time. And now, it's Kelson's turn."

  "No. I won't permit it."

  "Why not let Kelson decide?"

  "Because Kelson is a child," Jehana said impatiently. "He doesn't know what's best for him."

  "Kelson is a king, and will be crowned as such in the Cathedral of Saint George tomorrow. Would you deny him the right to continue wearing that crown after the coronation, Jehana?"

  "Who would dare to take it from him?"

  N4gel smiled. "Not I, Jehana, if that's what you're thinking. I'm quite content to remain the Duke of Carthmoor, Brion wanted it that way."

  "And if you were not content as Duke of Garth-moor, what then? Would Brion's wishes matter?"

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  Nigel smiled again. "I don't think you understand. Brion was my brother as well as my king. Even had I not accepted the Duchy of Carthmoor out of my love for him—I was entitled to nothing, you know. Brion, as elder son, was heir to all—but even if my love for my brother did not bind me, I would still be bound by my oath to my liege Lord to keep the King's peace. I loved him as a sovereign as well as a brother, Jehana."

  "I loved him, too," Jehana said defensively.

  "You choose strange ways to show it."

  "I can love the man, yet hate his deeds, can't I?"

  "Can you?" Nigel questioned. "I think we may have rather different definitions of the word love, Jehana., To my way of thinking, it's a bit more than mere profession of some nebulous feeling for another human being. It's also accepting—accepting everything about that person, even though you don't approve of all of it.

  "But you were never quite able to do that, were you? Because if you had been, you would have accepted from the start that Brion was magic in a very wonderful and special way, and that the proper way of rule for him was to use the powers he'd been given to keep peace in this land he loved so well."

  He turned to face her. "If you'll think back, I think you'll have to agree that Brion never once misused those powers—or Morgan, either, for that matter. Never, in all the years they were together, did either of them use those powers for anything but good.

  "When Brion slew the Marluk, for example, Jehana, I was there at his side, riding with him and Morgan. Can you possibly doubt that what they did was right? Think where we all might be today if the Marluk had won."

  Jehana began twisting her fingers together uneasily as she thought back on the years. "Brion never mentioned any of this to me."

  "He knew how you felt about Morgan," Nigel an-

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  swered gently. "But even with that, I know he tried more than once to tell you." He turned her to face him squarely. "Don't you remember the times he mentioned his reign, his divine power of kingship? It wasn't just a convenient legend handed down by a race of kings to justify divine right rule."

  "Why not?" she retorted stubbornly. "It's been the same with other royal houses. All kings claim their right of rule from God."

  Nigel slammed one fist into the other palm in exasperation. "Jehana, will you listen to me? You haven't heard a word I'm saying. I'm trying to tell you that even if you do find Morgan's Deryni powers distasteful —and you've made no secret of that—they had nothing to do with Brion. Brion's powers were his own!"

  There was a long silence, and then Jehana looked up, her face immobile, cold. "I don't believe you. Because if I did, I would have to believe that Brion was more than human, that he had, indeed, acquired his fearsome powers from somewhere outside the normal channels accessible to man. And that just isn't so. He may have been corrupted in life by your precious Morgan, but Brion himself was without personal taint. He was human."

  "Jehana—"

  "No! Brion was human, normal. And in spite of the accursed Deryni taint, he died a normal death, pursuing normal pleasures—not tempting the wrath of the Almighty by dabbling in Morgan's black arts."

  "Normal death?" Nigel pounced on the phrase like an eagle after a mouse. "A normal death? Tell me about it, Jehana. What is normal about the way Brion died?"

  Jehana froze, and her face went pale. "What do you mean?" she murmured apprehensively. "It was his heart. His heart stopped."

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  Nigel nodded slowly. "That is the ultimate cause of all deaths, isn't it?"

  "What do you mean by that?" Jehana challenged. Nigel folded his arms across his chest and looked down at the young Queen cautiously. Perhaps this was the very opening he'd been seeking. Evidently, Jehana had not even considered the possibility that Brion's death was not from natural causes. He mentally kicked himself for not thinking of the approach sooner. He began on a tentative note.

  'Tell me, Jehana, does it seem normal for a man in Brion's peak physical condition to die of a heart attack? Remember, he was only thirty-nine, and our family has a history of longevity." "But, his physicians said—"

  "His physicians are not versed in such matters, Jehana."

  She started to object, but he stayed her comment with an upraised hand.

  "You didn't ask about Lord Ralson and Colin, either. Not to change the subject, but you did know that Kelson sent them to fetch Morgan, didn't you?"

  "Against my—." She lowered her eyes. "What happened?"

&
nbsp; "There was an ambush near Valoret. AH members of the party were killed but Morgan and young Lord Derry."

  Her hand flew to her mouth to mask the involuntary expression of horror.

  NigeFs eyes narrowed, "Morgan thinks that the same person or persons responsible for the ambush also had a hand in Brion's murder."

  "Murder!" Jehana cried. "You're trying to tell me that someone managed to assassinate Brion and make it look like a heart attack?"

  "Can you think of a better way for the Shadowed One to begin her bid for power?" Nigel countered.

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  "She knew she couldn't stand against Brion in fair combat. But Kelson, he's just a boy. And if she could keep Morgan from reaching him and aiding him in the acquisition of Brion's powers, why, Kelson would be no problem whatsoever. After ali, Kelson is entirely unschooled in such matters, thanks to you. What chance could a human boy possibly have against a full Deryni sorceress?"

  "You're mad!" Jehana whispered, her face whiter still against the black of her mourning dress. "This is some delusion that's come over you in your grief!"

  "It's no delusion, Jehana."

  "Get out! Get out of here before I call a guard. If it's not a delusion, then it's an outright fabrication designed to destroy what cohesion there is left hi the Council. And that borders on treason, too, my husband's brother! Now, get out!"

  "Very well," Nigel said, backing off and bowing slightly. "I didn't think you'd listen, but I had to try. At least when things occur as I've said they will, you won't be able to say you weren't warned." He turned on his heel and strode toward the outer door. "I'll wait in the anteroom to escort you to the Council meeting. You won't want to keep the executioners waiting."

  When he had left the room, Jehana let out a sigh of relief and tried to force her hands to stop trembling. Now that she had heard Nigel's story, she was more convinced than ever that she was doing what must be done, that Kelson must rule as a mortal. Now, if she could just get Kelson into the Council meeting and keep him from openly opposing her .. .

  Resolutely, she yanked the bell pull to summon a servant. Kelson must be sent for right away. There was no time to lose.