The Quest for Saint Camber (61 page)

The formal ordeal past, however, they seemed to accept Kelson's previous assurance of beneficence, even before they had heard his account of the night's events. That was to be formally tested directly after the Mass. It was not until the Kiss of Peace, just before the Communion, that Dhugal finally was able to approach him. His whispered reassurances, both verbal and mental, as the two of them embraced, served to bring Kelson rudely back to the reality outside the walls of the shrine, for it was only then he discovered that Dhugal had managed to make brief contact with Morgan and Duncan, who were heading toward them at all speed, hopefully to rendezvous before the next sunset. Little though it had crossed his mind before, struggling only to survive, Kelson suddenly remembered how his kingdom must be foundering, thinking him dead. And wondering how Nigel fared, thinking himself king, the urgency to return was suddenly upon him.

But first must come the recounting of his ordeal, to the satisfaction of their captors—though the village folk had really ceased to be that when Kelson appeared in the doorway, apparently unscathed. When the Mass had ended and they gathered at his feet like so many hopeful children, he told them everything he could remember about Camber and the form of the vision he had experienced of the Deryni saint. He did
not
mention the dream of Rothana. He endured their Truth-Reading without resistance, reiterating his vow to re-establish Deryni schools as well as restore their saint, and their enthusiasm trebled.

By the time he finished talking, he had them completely in his thrall. When he told them then that he must leave them, at least for the present—that the rest of his kingdom must surely be in mourning over his supposed loss and possibly in danger from foreign enemies—their acclamation turned to hard, practical offers of assistance. By noon, he and Dhugal had eaten a modest meal and were well mounted on shaggy, sturdy mountain ponies. They rode briskly out of the valley of Saint Kyriell's with a jubilant escort of six young mountain men to see them safely back to Rhemuth, all of them garbed in the traditional mountain attire of kilted leathers and rough-spun, tweedy plaids, fur-lined cloaks pulled close against the cold.

By dusk, they still had not made physical contact with Morgan and Duncan, so Kelson halted long enough to send out a quick but powerful call, not even bothering to dismount, but only letting Dhugal hold his reins while he slipped efficiently into deep trance. Apparently strengthened by what he had gone through, his call yielded almost immediate results. By moonrise, a few hours later, their mountain escorts were treated to the rare sight of two normally dignified dukes of the realm throwing themselves from their blooded horses to sprint across a wind-scoured clearing on foot and embrace king and border earl, two whooping bordermen galloping joyous circles around all of them.

They did not press on that night, for the news Morgan and Duncan related after their initial, exuberant reunion was grave and wanted clearer heads than would be possible if they pushed on without rest. Two adjoining camps were made—one for the king and his three closest compatriots and one for the MacArdry men and the folk of Saint Kyriell's—and after a light repast, the royal party settled around the smaller of the two campfires for a council of war. Kelson listened in silence as Morgan recounted Duncan's finding of Tiercel's body, Nigel's illness, Conall's presumed marriage by now to Rothana, and, finally, his and Duncan's suspicions about Conall himself.

“We haven't any proof yet that he's done these things,” Duncan said, when Kelson had asked a few stunned questions and listened quietly to their speculations. “But who else had as much to gain as he did, under the circumstances? The fact remains that Tiercel is dead, Nigel is dying, and Conall thinks he's about to become king at any moment, with the full might of the Haldane legacy already confirmed in him. And let me tell you, he didn't waste any time suggesting
that
, as Nigel's condition deteriorated.”

Dhugal scowled. “Couldn't it be argued that he was only doing the prudent thing, making sure he would have the power to defend the kingdom, since he thought Kelson was dead and his father wasn't able to govern?”

“That could be argued,” Morgan agreed, “and very likely, Conall will argue it. But whether he got his powers through Tiercel or through our efforts—the latter of which I doubt, looking back—he has the full Haldane potential now. I seriously doubt he's going to want to give up the crown that's all but in his grasp, just because Kelson's come back alive. And even if he's entirely innocent in all of this, there's still the matter of his rather precipitous marriage to Rothana.”

Sadly, Kelson nodded. That Conall might have betrayed him was not really surprising, given the circumstances and the jealousy increasingly between them these last few years, but Conall could be dealt with, if necessary. What shocked Kelson, in quite a different way from his concern for Nigel, was Rothana's apparent defection. Word of that had set a cold, leaden lump in his stomach; he was only just able to keep it from driving him to tears.

“Conall will be given a chance to explain himself,” Kelson said quietly, after a long silence. “I don't want to believe these things of my own cousin. There
could
be some other explanation.”

“I hope so,” Duncan said, “for Conall's sake as well as yours.”

Dhugal nodded. “If we're all lucky, maybe it will turn out that he's only been guilty of opportunism—and that isn't necessarily a crime.”

When they had settled down to sleep, though, after agreeing to ride on to Valoret and its Portal in the morning, Kelson lay awake in his bedroll for some time, finally reaching out to touch Dhugal's shoulder. They were bracketed between Morgan and Duncan, with the rest of the men bedded down around the second fire except for the watch, and everyone else seemed to be asleep.

“Dhugal are you awake?” Kelson whispered.

Lifting his head briefly, Dhugal nodded and closed his hand over the king's, shifting to mind-speech.

You're worried, aren't you?

Not really worried. Even if the worst turns out to be true, I can take care of Conall. And with three of you able to function as Healers now, even Nigel may come out of this all right
.

It's Rothana, then, isn't it?
Dhugal returned.
Kelson, I'm so sorry. You really loved her, didn't you?

Sighing, Kelson laid his free arm across his eyes, Wishing he could blot out what he was feeling.

I dreamed about her last night, Dhugal—after I had the Camber vision. It was her wedding night, wasn't it, though I didn't know that then. We made love. It was so real that I
—
well, let's just say that it was very, very real. You don't suppose I was tapping into
—
her and Conall, do you?

Not at that distance, or behind all that rock
, Dhugal replied, though with the fragments of memory that leaked across his link with Kelson—quickly blocked, for he did not want to know—another image was coming to him, of his own observation of Brother Michael and the girl Rhidian, just past midnight, going quietly through another door near the one that had closed behind Kelson, unobserved by most of the dozing congregation. Michael had returned almost immediately, but Rhidian had not—not for nearly an hour. Dhugal found himself wondering whether Kelson's “dream” might have been more real than even he suspected—some form of sexual initiation, shrouded in the oblivion of the mind-tricking fumes, perhaps even a ritual marriage of the sacred king with the land, in the person of Rhidian, as sometimes had been practiced in ancient times by the ancestors of the mountain folk sleeping beside the next fire. Kelson might not have been aware of these traditions, but Dhugal was, being closer to the land through border myth and folklore very like that of these mountain people, so long exiled and apart. Perhaps Kelson's experience had been very, very real.

But he did not say that to Kelson. It was stunning enough that so poignant a dream of Rothana should have been dashed to hopelessness by the news of her marriage to Conall. That it all might have been triggered by very real human agencies was a hurt that the king need not endure, on top of everything else.

And so Dhugal sequestered those suspicions away behind the special shields that he had constructed after healing Kelson, when he and the king both had realized the necessity for some things never to be shared. Kelson could not help being aware that something was going on behind Dhugal's shields, but he concluded that it was simply the young borderer's reluctance to intrude on the intimacy of Kelson's dream; so Kelson, too, relegated that memory to the depths where others would never go, finally lying back with a sigh.

I'm sorry about the spill-over, there at the beginning
, he sent after a few more seconds.
I didn't mean to disturb you. This is something I'm simply going to have to work out for myself, when we get back. She thought I was dead, after all
.

Yes, I'm sure she did
, Dhugal replied.
Do you want some help sleeping?

No, I slept last night, far more deeply than I would have wished
, came Kelson's response.
How about you, though? Shall I put you to sleep?

The offer was the most tantalizing Dhugal had heard in days, and he readily agreed, for it meant that he would not dream. He gave a soft, grateful sigh as Kelson's hand shifted to his forehead. The next thing he knew, sunlight was shining in his eyes and the smell of roasting meat was rousing him, truly rested for the first time in weeks.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-S
EVEN

Ask now the priests concerning the law
.

—Haggai 2:11

Slowed by rugged terrain and another vicious spate of weather on the way back toward Valoret, Kelson and his companions were nearly four days reaching that cathedral city. Once there, Kelson decided to spend a few more days reviewing the progress of the bishops' synod before going on to Rhemuth by Portal, for the clarification of Duncan's status, at least, had become an even more important issue, given the difficulties the king expected to encounter once he returned to the capital. The delay would not endanger the element of surprise necessary to confound Conall, if that prince truly was the architect of what had been happening, for even if messengers rode night and day, word that Kelson was alive could not reach Rhemuth before Easter Monday. The king, however, would make his appearance the day before, having decided that Easter itself was a most propitious time to return from the grave, as it were. Unfortunately, the irony would probably be lost on Conall.

The bishops, meanwhile, had continued independently at the work they set out to do at the beginning of Lent, even though Cardiel and Arilan had returned to the capital to counsel Conall, and Bradene, too, had absented himself briefly to assist in the solemn proclamation of Conall as king. The primate was back in his see by Holy Week, however, and thus he was on hand to witness Kelson's astonishing ride through the city gates of Valoret on Maundy Thursday, miraculously alive and restored to his people.

The cathedral bells pealed for hours in a joyous paean of celebration, in total disregard for the usual bans on such displays at this most solemn season of the liturgical year, and by midafternoon the bishops gathered in a rapidly filled cathedral to sing a jubilant
Te Deum
, in thanksgiving for the king's safe return. For the rest of the day, the usual Lenten dietary restrictions were also relaxed to allow for moderate feasting in the archbishop's refectory that night, though Kelson and his companions chose to eat sparingly, anyway. Kelson accomplished nothing that night save to tell his story again and again to various groups of bishops and other clerics and turned in early to be fresh for the next day's tasks.

But next morning, after the obligatory ceremonies of Good Friday, when the city had recovered from its initial shock, the king convened his bishops in the chapter house where he had addressed them weeks before and asked for a report on their progress. He was pleased to learn that there had been a great deal, even after his supposed death.

First of all, nominations had been made to fill all of the previously vacant sees, with appointment awaiting only royal approval, which Kelson freely gave. Likewise, six new itinerant bishops had been elected to roam at large in the kingdom, with four positions yet to be filled, as and when suitable candidates could be found. These, too, Kelson approved. In addition, the canonization of the late Bishop of Meara, Henry Istelyn, had been approved unanimously, with formal declaration of his status set for later in the year.

But most important of all, so far as Kelson was concerned, most of the draft work on the rewriting of the Statutes of Ramos had been completed. He spent the best part of Good Friday going over the document with Morgan, Duncan, and Dhugal, making but few amendments and alterations, and by sunset had pronounced himself well satisfied with the way the material was taking shape. By the next morning, the last he planned to spend in Valoret, he was ready to tackle the most delicate negotiation.

“I cannot tell you how pleased I am with what you have accomplished in the past month, gentlemen,” he told the assembled bishops, during a closed session in which only Morgan, Dhugal, and himself were not ordained priests. “I should not wish to tempt true disaster by saying it, but perhaps my ‘death' was not such a terrible thing after all, if this is the kind of memorial you make to me.” He silenced their faint, nervous laughter with an upraised hand.

“In all seriousness, however,” he resumed, “I should like to think of your work as a living memorial, if you will—for you have served me and all of Gwynedd, both present and to come, by your earnest intentions to right the wrongs inadvertently and, alas, sometimes intentionally imposed upon loyal subjects of this land for many, many generations. Judging by what you have proposed, I hope I may assume that you believe Deryni can be a valuable part of the many and varied peoples who make up this kingdom—and not merely because four of them are sitting here before you, and one of them is your liege lord. Indeed, were it not for these three, I would not be here today.”