The Quest for Saint Camber (21 page)

Kelson allowed himself a wry chuckle. “Are you joking? There'll be dancing in the streets. They've been after me to marry again almost since they closed Sidana's tomb.”

His face clouded as he saw Sidana's ring on his hand, and he wondered suddenly whether he dared to offer it to Rothana—as a pledge only, for he knew it would not do to seal even a promise of a second marriage with the symbol of old blood.

“What is it, my lord?” Rothana whispered.

“This ring you've always seen me wear,” he murmured, rubbing his thumb over it, though he did not release her hands. “I—don't suppose you ever knew that it was Sidana's ring. I wore it initially to remind me of the vow I made to bring her murderers to justice. I've worn it since then to remind me that I wanted never again to have to wed for reasons of state. I wouldn't want you to wear it—and it's tainted with her blood—but if you're willing, I'd like you to keep it while I'm gone, as a sign that she and all of that are behind me.”

“I am deeply moved, my lord,” she said, searching his eyes with hers. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“As sure as I am that I want you to be my wife when I return,” he said, slipping the ring off his finger and holding it out to her. “Because of your vows, this isn't a betrothal or even a promise of betrothal, but it's my personal commitment to readdress the subject when we're both free to do so. And if, while I'm away, you should decide that you've changed your mind, that this was all just a pleasant flight of fancy wound up in the romance of knighthood and court intrigues, you have only to return the ring. No explanations will be necessary.”

He quirked her a wry smile to dispel her solemn expression as she took the ring and closed it in her fist.

“I have to qualify it that way, Rothana,” he added, pausing to brush her closed hand with his lips. “I've done all of this without reckoning on God. Technically, you still belong to Him. And I won't compete with Him, despite the fact that I've already driven my own blood brother to blasphemy on the subject.”

“Dhugal? Does he know?”

“More than I knew, until tonight,” Kelson said. “No one else does, though.”

“Well, they'll know if I don't soon rescue Sister Marian and go on to bed,” Rothana whispered. “Not
yours
, my lord, though you sorely tempt me, despite my vows. And I mustn't miss the night Offices, or we shall have more than Dhugal suspicious.”

“I could just
tell
Duncan and Alaric,” Kelson ventured, folding her in his arms again and nuzzling at her throat. “They're going to know anyway, eventually.”

“Eventually, but not tonight,” she said, drawing back to look him in the eyes. “And not before you leave. I doubt not that they would keep their peace, my lord, but if it were to become known while I am still under vows, it could compromise my honor. Your bride must be virginal above reproach when she gives herself to you before God's altar.”

Kelson sighed. Her logic was inescapable.

“Very well, then. Shall I see you tomorrow, before we leave?”

“Why, of course, my lord,” she said gaily, giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek and drawing back farther, only her hands in his. “I shall be waving a kerchief with all the other ladies of the court, to wish the brave young knights Godspeed on their quest. And I shall pray for your safe and speedy return.”

He stood there gazing at her for several heartbeats, then slowly nodded.

“I shall treasure the sight, my heart,” he whispered. “But may I not hope for a more lingering kiss to last the summer long?”

Shyly she stepped toward him, their joined hands lifting to either side but not separating, only their lips meeting between. It was a chaste kiss on the mouth, sweet and lingering after they had drawn apart, but no more. And Kelson was content as he watched her go. He stayed a few more minutes to breathe in the sharp chill of the night air to clear his senses, then himself headed off in the opposite direction, to rejoin Dhugal, Duncan, and Morgan.

And from a tiny window overlooking the garden, Conall sipped at a goblet of rich, red wine and observed all with more than passing interest—and had seen almost the entire exchange, though even near-Deryni senses could not discern what was said.

The actions had been clear enough, however—clear enough for Conall to decide that
he
would not have drawn back when Kelson had, sparing Rothana her virtue. Were it he instead of Kelson in the garden darkness with Rothana, he would even now be enjoying her lithe, sweet body, making it tremble beneath his, taking her as his own in a way that even her vows could not set aside, if he then demanded that she accept his suit of marriage or else face having her dishonor made public.

For it was Rothana on whom Conall had set his sights, since escorting her and her sister nuns back from Cùilteine the previous summer; and it was Rothana whom he meant to wed, however he could, regardless of what dear Cousin Kelson might desire.

As he tossed off the rest of his wine and prepared to go to his own assignation, he wondered whether Tiercel had some means of encouraging a lady's affections—though Conall knew that influencing a Deryni woman would involve far more risk than bending any mere human quarry to his will. He had done
that
before, starting with Vanissa and not ending with several serving maids and ladies of the court.

But Rothana—here was a bride fit for a prince, and especially for a prince now nearly Deryni. And if Conall could, he meant to win her openly, perhaps right from under the nose of Kelson. Neither he nor the king would be able to pursue the matter for the next few months, but when they returned …

He heard the bells in the basilica ringing Compline and he pulled a dark cloak over his indoor attire. It was time to meet his mentor. Tiercel had promised an extraordinary lesson for tonight, surpassing anything Conall had experienced before.

And after that, Conall would see about Tiercel procuring him a bride.

C
HAPTER
E
IGHT

Teach me, and I will hold my tongue
.

—Job 6:24

Conall tried to put out of mind what he had seen as he made his way toward the library, where he was to meet Tiercel. Fantasies of bedding the fair Rothana were not conducive to the kind of concentration his mentor usually demanded of him, and he had no idea what to expect from tonight's session. Tiercel's message had said only to be in the library an hour after Compline. It was not one of their usual meeting places, but Conall had come to expect the unusual when dealing with Deryni.

The library was still and quiet as Conall entered—but he knew he was a little early. Shielding his rushlight with a cupped hand, he paused a moment with his back to the closed door to look around. He did not come here often. Reading held little interest for Conall unless it concerned military strategy and tactics. His Uncle Brion had amassed a fair collection of scrolls and bound books on such subjects, several of which Conall had nearly memorized by now, but Kelson's tastes ran more to histories and, increasingly, to obscure esoteric subjects—though, in light of what Conall had been learning recently, perhaps some of them were not as obscure as Conall first had thought.

Kelson had even expanded the library since Brion's time, cutting a connecting doorway through to an adjacent room to house his growing collection. Conall remembered the uproar, two winters ago, when Kelson had had the work done, breaking through the thick interior wall and then sealing off the new room's former door from the outside corridor, so that access could only be had through the library. It seemed a great deal of trouble, when the library simply could have been moved to larger quarters, but perhaps Kelson wanted to retain the link with his father. Conall could understand that.

What he did not understand was why Tiercel had instructed him to come here rather than one of their usual rendezvous points. So far as he knew, Tiercel had never ventured into the keep before; it was far too risky, even for a skilled Deryni who could make guards forget he had passed.

Still puzzled, but impatient now, Conall moved on between the rows of shelves, heading for the second chamber. That was probably a better place to wait, just in case anyone came looking for some late-night reading. The temperature seemed to drop as he drew aside the heavy curtain across the connecting doorway and ducked to go through, but the feeling passed as he straightened on the other side. Shelves had been added across the opposite wall since he last had been here, but the room was still barer than he had expected. He also thought he was alone until a silvery glow suddenly flared in the deep window embrasure and Tiercel stepped out, only his face visible against the dark stuff of his hooded cloak, lit by the sphere of handfire in his gloved left hand.

“Oh, so you
are
here,” Conall murmured, turning to face him squarely.

“Yes, but not for long—either of us. Someone might come. Besides, I have important things to show you tonight.”

“All right. Where do you want to go? Dhugal's room has that secret passage that can let you out in the castle yard or even outside the keep, if it comes to that. He'll never know. He and Duncan are dining with Morgan in Kelson's apartments. When I get back from the progress, I mean to speak to Kelson about that room.
I
should have had it, not Dhugal.”

Tiercel's grin flashed in the shadow of his hood.

“Ah, Duncan's dining with the king, is he? Good. That eliminates one potential problem. Blow out your rushlight and put it over in that niche. You won't need it where we're going.”

The instruction gave Conall a twinge of apprehension, but he did as Tiercel ordered. When he turned back, the Deryni lord had pulled off one glove with his teeth and was hunkered down in the middle of the floor, brushing his bare hand over one of the stone flags. His handfire still hovered at head level above him.

“What are you doing?” Conall murmured, coming closer to crouch beside Tiercel.

“Do you see the edges of this flagstone?” Tiercel said, with an amused glance up at Conall. “Notice that it's the only completely square one here in the center of the room.”

“Yes. Why?”

“Lay your hands flat inside the square and tell me what you feel.”

Without answering, Conall obeyed.

“It tingles,” he murmured, quickly shifting one hand outside the square to compare the difference, then putting it back beside the other. “There's magic here, isn't there? What does it do?”

“That, my friend, is a Transfer Portal,” Tiercel said, standing and dusting his hand against his leather-clad thigh as Conall did the same. “It's a Deryni way of getting somewhere in a hurry. More specifically, that's
the
Transfer Portal that Charissa used to gain access to the library the night before your cousin Kelson's coronation. Morgan and Duncan found it a couple of years ago. That's why all this was done.” He gestured around him to indicate the room.

“In any case, I felt you ought to know about such things, so I've decided to give you your first taste of Portal travel tonight—and as sort of a reward for your hard work all winter. It isn't something I ordinarily recommend just for recreational purposes, since it does use energy, especially if one has to go very far, but there are three I'd like to show you here in Rhemuth, all quite close. This is the first.”

Conall glanced at the innocuous-looking flagstone again. He had heard his father and Morgan speak of Portals before and had a vague notion what they did, but he had never seen one and certainly had never suspected there was one right here in the library.

“Whenever I've heard of Portals, I've always pictured a door,” he murmured. “There's nothing here but a square on the floor.”

Tiercel smiled. “Oh, there's far more than that, my practical young friend. Stand here in front of me, inside the boundary of the square, and close your eyes. There isn't going to be anything to see, anyway.”

He quenched the handfire as he guided Conall into place and set his hands on the younger man's shoulders from behind, standing close and shifting one hand farther around Conall's neck to span lightly across the carotid pulse points with the vee of his thumb and first two fingers.

“Go ahead. Close your eyes. And let down your shields. This first time, all I want you to do is relax as much as you can and let your mind be as still as possible. I'll do the rest. The first time, the sensation of the actual jump is a little startling, but you mustn't fight it or me. If you do, I'll have to help you along. Relax now.”

Though Conall did as he was directed, stilling his mind easily under his mentor's guidance, he still could feel his heartbeat pulsating under the increasing pressure of Tiercel's fingers. But then, in a sudden, sickening swoop of vertigo that made him clutch instinctively at Tiercel's arm to keep from falling, the pressure was released and he was staggering against Tiercel's body, trying to catch his balance, and they were closely surrounded by walls, about where the outline of the Portal square would have been if they were still on it—but they were not.

“Easy,” Tiercel murmured, close beside his left ear. “You're fine. We're now in a Portal that opens into Father Duncan's old study, adjoining the basilica.”

He conjured handfire practically in front of Conall's nose, causing the startled prince to recoil harder against him for just a second, then reached out to finger a barely noticeable stud projecting from one of the corner stones lining the chamber. Instantly, the wall to their left withdrew with a soft sigh, revealing a heavy tapestry curtain which Tiercel pushed aside with his forearm as he stepped through and gestured for Conall to follow. The silvery glow of Tiercel's handfire lit the room eerily, but Conall recognized it as soon as he had crossed the threshold.

“I know this room,” he murmured. “When Kelson and I were children, Father Duncan used to hear our confessions in here sometimes. I haven't been here in years.”