The Quest for Saint Camber (3 page)

“
Seconde
.

“
Tierce
.

“
Quarte
.”

Conall had grasped the procedure by the second repetition and glanced eagerly at Tiercel when the first four were complete.

“I can do that,” he said confidently.

“Very well, then,
you
name the black ones,” Tiercel said, sitting back with fists braced on hips in good-natured challenge. “Just keep to the same order, starting with
Quinte
.”

“All right.”

Narrowing all his concentration to the cube set diagonal to the white
Prime
, Conall touched it with a tentative forefinger and spoke its name:

“
Quinte
.”

The light that flared in the cube was an inky green-black rather than white like the first four, but Conall hardly even blinked as he shifted his attention to the black cube next to
Seconde
.

“
Sixte
.”

The second black cube lit to match
Quinte
's.

“
Septime
…
Octave
,” Conall continued, activating the remaining two black cubes in rapid succession. “Is that all there is to it?”

“Hardly,” Tiercel replied, though he was grinning ear-to-ear and shaking his head slightly as if in disbelief. “They want balancing next. Watch how I combine the elements—first,
Prime
to
Quinte
, with the intent to bring the pairs of opposites into harmony.”

He closed his eyes for just an instant, re-collecting his focus, then picked up the white
Prime
and brought it down on its black counterpart, speaking the word of power as the two touched with a faint flash and bonded.

“
Primus!
”

When he withdrew his hand, an oblong, silvery rectoid stood where two cubes had been. Conall gaped.

“No questions yet,” Tiercel said, reaching for
Seconde
. “Just pay attention. Some magical systems equate the ward components with the Elemental Lords and their Watchtowers, or the Archangels of the Quarters. Some prefer the symbolism of the pillars. All are valid conventions. Watch again, now, while I do
Secundus
, and then I'll let you have a go at
Tertius
and
Quartus
.” He quirked a pleased grin at the prince. “God, I'm glad you're grown! Teaching this to children can sometimes be
so
tedious—but I think you're going to get it right the first time.”

“Do you do that often?” Conall asked. “Teach children, I mean?”

“Often enough. Be still, now.”

Tiercel brought
Seconde
just above
Sixte
, paused to draw a deep breath, then gently brought the white cube down on the black as he spoke its balance mnemonic.

“
Secundus!
Now you do the other two,” he added, as he drew his hand away from a second silvery rectoid.

Conall complied without hesitation or difficulty, looking up expectantly as he drew his hand away from
Quartus
.

“Now what?”

“Now comes the tricky part, because there's some very specific visualization involved,” Tiercel said. “May I borrow your signet for a moment?”

The ring, richly engraved gold on Conall's left little finger, bore the Haldane arms as differenced for a second son's eldest son: Nigel's bordured and crescent-charged Haldane lion overlaid with a label of three points. Conall removed it without discussion, setting it, at Tiercel's direction, in the central space Tiercel made by moving the four towers a handspan farther apart.

“Now, just watch, this first time,” Tiercel said, poising a forefinger above the tower that was
Primus
. “I want you to observe the effect before you're involved with it.”

As Conall sat back a little with a nod, Tiercel drew another deep breath, his tawny eyes going hooded, and pointed to the four towers in quick succession as he spoke their names.

“
Primus, Secundus, Tertius, et Quartus—fiat lux!
”

Conall gasped as misty light flared up in a shallow dome over the towers, enclosing the ring, but he immediately leaned closer for a better look.

“Is it solid?” he whispered.

“Touch it and find out,” Tiercel replied. “Go ahead,” he added, at Conall's hesitation. “It won't hurt you—not set this way, at any rate.”

“I suppose that's meant to be reassuring,” Conall muttered, prodding tentatively with a fingertip. It felt not quite solid, and made his finger tingle, as when an arm or leg went to sleep, but the sensation was not painful.

“Poke a little harder,” Tiercel suggested, watching him closely.

Conall complied. His finger encountered more resistance, and a stronger tingling sensation, the farther he pushed it in, but even when he tried with all his strength, he could not quite manage to touch his ring.

“That's enough of that,” Tiercel finally said, gesturing for him to pull back. “Now I'm going to make a subtle alteration.” He held his hand over the domelet for a few seconds, not doing anything that Conall could detect, then blinked and glanced up at Conall again. “Now touch it.”

Conall started to obey, but a blue-violet spark arced between the dome and his fingertip with painful consequences before he could even make contact. He gasped as he wrenched his hand away, looking up at Tiercel with only thinly veiled anger as he nursed his wounded finger in his mouth. It was all but blistered at the tip.

“What the devil did you do that for?” he demanded.

“So you would have some inkling of what this spell
could
do,” Tiercel said mildly. “Now suppose it were covering an entire room rather than just your ring. Do you remember the protective dome that Kelson and Charissa raised, when they fought at Kelson's coronation?”

“Of course,” Conall breathed. “But they didn't use ward cubes—did they?”

“No. But some of the principles are the same. Actually, the first version is the more useful for general purposes—and there are variations between.” Tiercel passed his hand over the dome again, then turned his palm briefly toward Conall. “Now try it again.”

“Is it going to
kill
me this time, instead of just burning me?” Conall asked, still sucking resentfully at his wounded fingertip.

“Come, now. Would I kill you, after all the work I've put into you in the past year?”

Conall only snorted in answer; but after taking a deep breath, he did reach out gingerly to touch the dome again. This time, his finger passed through its misty outline with no more sensation than going through fog. With elation in his eyes, he speared the ring with his fingertip and pulled it out, looking up at Tiercel in triumph.

“
Got
it!”

“Of course. That time, the wards were attuned to you. Now, put it back, and I'll show you how we dismantle the wards. Then I'll let
you
practice.”

Two hours later, Conall had formed and neutralized the wards several times under Tiercel's supervision—though only in the primary, non-lethal mode—and was confident he could now do so without assistance if the need arose.

“Hmmm, I daresay you probably could. But there's no need to rush things,” Tiercel cautioned, when they had replaced the cubes in their pouch and Conall had made none too subtle inquiries about acquiring a set of his own. “Perhaps I'll have you a set by the time you return from the summer progress.”

“So long?”

“Well, frankly, I didn't expect you to master them so quickly. Finding you the right set will take some time.”

“Couldn't I borrow yours? That way, I could practice while I'm away.”

“I—don't think that's a good idea,” Tiercel replied. “For one thing, I may need them. For another, it wouldn't do for someone to find them and deduce what you've been doing with your spare time. Only a trained Deryni would have any business with a set. Besides, you're flexing abilities you've never used before. You have to build up your endurance. I'll bet you've got a headache just from this afternoon's work.”

Conall nodded grudgingly, kneading the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger and trying to will the dull throb to recede. He'd been trying to ignore it, but it was centered just behind his eyes.

“I have. It isn't too bad, though. Not as bad as some I've had.”

“You're sure? I can give you something for it, if you like. You needn't play the martyr, you know.”

“I know. But if I take one of your potions, I'll still be groggy at dinnertime. Someone might notice. I'll be all right.”

“Very well. Suit yourself. I
am
pleased with your progress, however. Today's gains should make it
much
easier when we continue with your training. If only we'd had a few more weeks, I feel certain I could have taken you before the Council by Midsummer.”

Conall grimaced, but not from his headache. “I know you won't want to believe this, coming from me, but under the circumstances, it's probably best we have to wait,” he said. “The Council isn't going to like it when we prove that more than one Haldane can hold the Haldane power at a time. And when they tell Kelson,
he
isn't going to like it. If he knew, he'd never let me be knighted.”

“What makes you so sure they'll tell Kelson?” Tiercel asked. “He isn't exactly their favorite Deryni right now, you know. If he were on the Council, it would be different, of course, but he isn't—the more fool, he.”

“I still can't believe he turned down a Council seat,” Conall muttered. “
I
wouldn't have—not that I'm ever likely to be asked.”

Conall cocked his head thoughtfully at his prize pupil as he stashed the cube pouch in his satchel.

“That may not be as far-fetched as you think,” he said quietly. “If you keep progressing, there's no predicting how far you might go.”

“And wouldn't that be a feather in
your
cap?” Conall returned, not even blinking at the notion—which startled Tiercel. “You can't tell me you don't have ambitions, too, Tiercel de Claron.”

Tiercel shrugged. “Oh, I do. But they had included your rather uncooperative cousin Kelson as well as yourself. And if declining the Council seat wasn't enough, he had to recommend Morgan or Duncan in his place—or Dhugal.…”

“Dhugal!” Conall snorted. “What does that upstart border bastard know about anything?”

Tiercel favored the sour-visaged prince with a wry little smile.

“I must assume that you mean the term
bastard
in the purely pejorative sense rather than the literal one, since the holy fathers of the Church are even now about the business of legitimating young Dhugal.”

“He's still a bastard.”

“In that his parents were not wed according to the usual rites of Mother Church—perhaps. But a form of marriage
was
enacted, and both parents were free to marry at the time. That's enough for the king. And at his request, the bishops almost certainly will grant the necessary dispensation.”

“A piece of parchment,” Conall muttered. “It changes nothing.”

“Why, one might almost think you were jealous,” Tiercel said mildly.

“Jealous? Of Dhugal?”

“Well, he
is
of true Deryni lineage, after all, and the king's blood brother,” Tiercel said pointedly. “That gives him a few perquisites that mere cousinship and usurped Haldane potentials don't confer, doesn't it? Don't worry, I won't betray your secret.”

“I'd rather not talk about it,” Conall said, turning his face away guiltily.

“No, I don't suppose you would.” Tiercel stood. “Well, I must be away. You're sure you don't want something for your headache?”

“No. It's nearly gone already.” Conall swallowed uneasily, fighting down a flush of embarrassment at his outburst. “Tiercel, I—”

The Deryni lord ducked under the shoulder strap of his satchel, then began drawing on his clammy cloak as he glanced back at Conall.

“Yes?”

“I—please don't mind me getting a little hot about Dhugal. I guess I
am
a bit jealous.” He glanced down at his stockinged feet. “I suppose I'm a bit jealous of Kelson, too.”

“I know,” Tiercel said softly. He laid a comforting hand on Conall's shoulder until the younger man looked up and managed a shifty, half-hearted smile, then took his hand away.

“You have much to recommend you for yourself alone, Conall. Don't let jealousy make you lose sight of that.”

“I'll try. Will—will we have time for any more sessions before I leave?”

“One more, perhaps,” Tiercel said, “though not until after the knighting. You're going to be very busy between now and then. And I'd better come to you, rather than the reverse. You're going to be under increasing scrutiny—not because anyone suspects anything,” he added, at Conall's flash of alarm, “but simply because, since the conferring of knighthood denotes a full coming of age in your rank as prince and knight, people are going to be interested in what you're doing and how you're taking the new responsibilities that come with the honor.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Conall agreed. “Will you send word in the usual way, then?”

Tiercel nodded. “We'll plan tentatively for the night before you actually leave on the progress. Most everyone else will be otherwise occupied getting last-minute arrangements taken care of, so you're that much less likely to be missed.”

“True enough.” Conall stood as Tiercel gathered up cap and gloves.

“Good luck with your knighting, then,” Tiercel said, clasping his hand to Conall's and brushing his mind briefly against the other's in leave-taking. “Mine was far less lavish than what they have planned for you, but I'll never forget it. Will you return to Rhemuth now, or are you staying a while with your lady?”