[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Looking back, we must even surmise that McLain was probably responsible for
much of what went on at the coronation of our beloved King Kelson last fall; for
that, he and Morgan share double blame." His gaze swept the room once more.
"Is there any dissension? If so, feel free to speak."
There was none.
"Very well, then," Loris nodded. "We shall expect all of you to assist in the
excommunication rite this evening. Tomorrow we shall decide what further
action, if any, is to be taken in this specific matter. In addition, we shall again
discuss what is to be done with Morgan's Duchy of Corwyn. It may well be that we
shall yet have to lower the Interdict we discussed today. Until this evening, my
lords."
With a short bow, Loris took his leave of the clergy and glided out the door,
followed by Corrigan, Cor-rigan's clerk Father Hugh de Berry, and a half-dozen
other assistants and scribes. As soon as the door had closed behind them, the rest
of the occupants broke into heated debate once more.
"Arilan?"
Bishop Arflan, following the discussion between Bishops Bradene and Tolliver,
looked up at the sound of his name above the din and saw Cardiel signal from
across the room. Taking his leave of the two senior bishops, he made his way
through the throng of railing prelates and clerks surrounding his host bishop, and
bowed formally.
"Did my lord Cardiel wish to see me?"
Cardiel returned the bow without batting an eye. "I had thought to retire to my
private chapel to meditate on this grave crisis which has come upon us, my lord
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Arilan," he shouted in Arilan's ear, trying to make himself heard. "It occurred to
me that you might care to join me. I expect the Curia chapel will be somewhat
crowded by our elder brothers."
Arilan controlled a smile and inclined his head graciously as he waved dismissal
to his attendants. "I should be most honored, my lord. And perhaps our joint
prayers will be of some use in assuaging the anger of the Lord against our brother
Duncan. To damn any priest of God, even a Deryni one, must needs be a serious
matter. Do you agree?"
"We are in complete accord, my brother," Cardiel nodded as they slipped out
through a private door. "I believe we might also meditate on the merits of this
Warm person whom the good Monsignor Gorony mentioned in his somewhat
hasty report. Don't you?"
Guarded nods were exchanged with a pair of monks passing in the corridor, and
then they were entering the secluded and sound-proofed private chapel of the
bishop of Dhassa. As the doors closed, Arilan finally allowed his smile to escape
without restraint, leaned easily against the doors as Cardiel struck light to a
candle beside him.
"Warm is not the real issue, you know," Arilan said, squinting as the candle fire
flared. "But while we're discussing him, I'd suggest a careful study of this
Interdict notion Loris seems determined to force upon us. I don't see how we can
fail to support the excommunication and remain in good standing with the Curia.
The facts are there, and Morgan and McLain are at least technically guilty as
charged. But I totally reject the Interdict plan unless the people of Corwyn should
refuse to honor the Curia's excommunication of their duke."
Cardiel snorted as he strode to the front of the chapel and touched his light to a
pair of candles on the altar. "I'm not certain I could support the Interdict even
then, Denis. Frankly, I'm not convinced that Morgan and McLain did anything
but defend themselves. And even the inherent evil of Deryni magic is highly
questionable, to my way of thinking."
"It's good you say that only to me," Arilan smiled, walking down the short aisle to
join Cardiel. "Others among the Curia might not understand."
"But you do," Cardiel said confidently. He glanced at the red Presence lamp
hanging from the ceiling and nodded toward it "And He for whom that light
burns understands. We three are enough for now."
Arilan smiled again and settled back in the front pew. "We are enough," he
agreed. "So let us discuss how to make us more than three; what things might be
done and said to change Loris' plans when the time is right."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The humans kill what they do not understand.
Unknown Deryni
IT WAS STILL raining as Duncan and Morgan came down off the mountains.
Lightning streaked in the west and paled the fading sunset, and thunder rumbled
and echoed among the mountain peaks. The wind howled through the ruins of
Saint Neot's, lashing rain against weathered grey stone and charred timbers as
the two riders rode through the ruined courtyard.
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Duncan squinted into the gloom and pulled his hood farther over his head. At his
right, Morgan huddled in the saddle, gloved fingers locked on the high pommel
and eyes closed as he nodded with the motion of his mount. He had slipped into
semi-consciousness some hours ago, his stupor mercifully numbing him to the
discomfort of the long ride, but Duncan knew his cousin could not last much
longer without rest. Thank God they had finally reached shelter.
Duncan guided his mount into the protected corner where he and Morgan had
spent the previous night, and reined in. Morgan swayed in the saddle, then jerked
to awareness as the horses halted and Duncan jumped to the ground. His glazed
eyes searched his surroundings uncomprehendingly.
"Where are we? Why have we stopped?"
Duncan ducked under his hone's neck and moved to Morgan's side. "It's all right.
We're at Saint Neot's," he said, taking Morgan by the shoulders and helping him
from the saddle. "I'm going to leave you here to rest while I look around. There
should be a Transfer Portal somewhere about. That will get us as far as Rhemuth,
if it's still working."
"I'll help you look," Morgan mumbled thickly, almost stumbling as Duncan led
him to the driest corner of the old campsite. "It's probably by the Camber altar I
told you about."
Duncan shook his head as he eased Morgan to the ground and knelt beside him.
"If it's there, I'll find it," he said, pushing his kinsman back against the wall.
"Meanwhile, you're going to get some proper sleep."
"Now wait a minute," Morgan protested, trying feebly to sit up. "You're not going
to wander around out there by yourself while I sleep."
Duncan smiled indulgently, but his hand was firm as he pushed Morgan back
against the wall and shook his head once again.
"I'm afraid that's exactly what I'm going to do, my friend. This time you haven't
any say in the matter. Now don't fight me, or I'll have to force you to sleep."
"You would, too," Morgan muttered petulantly, slumping back against the wall
with a sigh.
"I would indeed. Now relax."
As Morgan closed his eyes, Duncan stripped off his gloves and stuffed them into
his tunic. Clasping his hands together for just an instant in preparation, he stared [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl wyciskamy.pev.pl
Looking back, we must even surmise that McLain was probably responsible for
much of what went on at the coronation of our beloved King Kelson last fall; for
that, he and Morgan share double blame." His gaze swept the room once more.
"Is there any dissension? If so, feel free to speak."
There was none.
"Very well, then," Loris nodded. "We shall expect all of you to assist in the
excommunication rite this evening. Tomorrow we shall decide what further
action, if any, is to be taken in this specific matter. In addition, we shall again
discuss what is to be done with Morgan's Duchy of Corwyn. It may well be that we
shall yet have to lower the Interdict we discussed today. Until this evening, my
lords."
With a short bow, Loris took his leave of the clergy and glided out the door,
followed by Corrigan, Cor-rigan's clerk Father Hugh de Berry, and a half-dozen
other assistants and scribes. As soon as the door had closed behind them, the rest
of the occupants broke into heated debate once more.
"Arilan?"
Bishop Arflan, following the discussion between Bishops Bradene and Tolliver,
looked up at the sound of his name above the din and saw Cardiel signal from
across the room. Taking his leave of the two senior bishops, he made his way
through the throng of railing prelates and clerks surrounding his host bishop, and
bowed formally.
"Did my lord Cardiel wish to see me?"
Cardiel returned the bow without batting an eye. "I had thought to retire to my
private chapel to meditate on this grave crisis which has come upon us, my lord
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Arilan," he shouted in Arilan's ear, trying to make himself heard. "It occurred to
me that you might care to join me. I expect the Curia chapel will be somewhat
crowded by our elder brothers."
Arilan controlled a smile and inclined his head graciously as he waved dismissal
to his attendants. "I should be most honored, my lord. And perhaps our joint
prayers will be of some use in assuaging the anger of the Lord against our brother
Duncan. To damn any priest of God, even a Deryni one, must needs be a serious
matter. Do you agree?"
"We are in complete accord, my brother," Cardiel nodded as they slipped out
through a private door. "I believe we might also meditate on the merits of this
Warm person whom the good Monsignor Gorony mentioned in his somewhat
hasty report. Don't you?"
Guarded nods were exchanged with a pair of monks passing in the corridor, and
then they were entering the secluded and sound-proofed private chapel of the
bishop of Dhassa. As the doors closed, Arilan finally allowed his smile to escape
without restraint, leaned easily against the doors as Cardiel struck light to a
candle beside him.
"Warm is not the real issue, you know," Arilan said, squinting as the candle fire
flared. "But while we're discussing him, I'd suggest a careful study of this
Interdict notion Loris seems determined to force upon us. I don't see how we can
fail to support the excommunication and remain in good standing with the Curia.
The facts are there, and Morgan and McLain are at least technically guilty as
charged. But I totally reject the Interdict plan unless the people of Corwyn should
refuse to honor the Curia's excommunication of their duke."
Cardiel snorted as he strode to the front of the chapel and touched his light to a
pair of candles on the altar. "I'm not certain I could support the Interdict even
then, Denis. Frankly, I'm not convinced that Morgan and McLain did anything
but defend themselves. And even the inherent evil of Deryni magic is highly
questionable, to my way of thinking."
"It's good you say that only to me," Arilan smiled, walking down the short aisle to
join Cardiel. "Others among the Curia might not understand."
"But you do," Cardiel said confidently. He glanced at the red Presence lamp
hanging from the ceiling and nodded toward it "And He for whom that light
burns understands. We three are enough for now."
Arilan smiled again and settled back in the front pew. "We are enough," he
agreed. "So let us discuss how to make us more than three; what things might be
done and said to change Loris' plans when the time is right."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The humans kill what they do not understand.
Unknown Deryni
IT WAS STILL raining as Duncan and Morgan came down off the mountains.
Lightning streaked in the west and paled the fading sunset, and thunder rumbled
and echoed among the mountain peaks. The wind howled through the ruins of
Saint Neot's, lashing rain against weathered grey stone and charred timbers as
the two riders rode through the ruined courtyard.
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Duncan squinted into the gloom and pulled his hood farther over his head. At his
right, Morgan huddled in the saddle, gloved fingers locked on the high pommel
and eyes closed as he nodded with the motion of his mount. He had slipped into
semi-consciousness some hours ago, his stupor mercifully numbing him to the
discomfort of the long ride, but Duncan knew his cousin could not last much
longer without rest. Thank God they had finally reached shelter.
Duncan guided his mount into the protected corner where he and Morgan had
spent the previous night, and reined in. Morgan swayed in the saddle, then jerked
to awareness as the horses halted and Duncan jumped to the ground. His glazed
eyes searched his surroundings uncomprehendingly.
"Where are we? Why have we stopped?"
Duncan ducked under his hone's neck and moved to Morgan's side. "It's all right.
We're at Saint Neot's," he said, taking Morgan by the shoulders and helping him
from the saddle. "I'm going to leave you here to rest while I look around. There
should be a Transfer Portal somewhere about. That will get us as far as Rhemuth,
if it's still working."
"I'll help you look," Morgan mumbled thickly, almost stumbling as Duncan led
him to the driest corner of the old campsite. "It's probably by the Camber altar I
told you about."
Duncan shook his head as he eased Morgan to the ground and knelt beside him.
"If it's there, I'll find it," he said, pushing his kinsman back against the wall.
"Meanwhile, you're going to get some proper sleep."
"Now wait a minute," Morgan protested, trying feebly to sit up. "You're not going
to wander around out there by yourself while I sleep."
Duncan smiled indulgently, but his hand was firm as he pushed Morgan back
against the wall and shook his head once again.
"I'm afraid that's exactly what I'm going to do, my friend. This time you haven't
any say in the matter. Now don't fight me, or I'll have to force you to sleep."
"You would, too," Morgan muttered petulantly, slumping back against the wall
with a sigh.
"I would indeed. Now relax."
As Morgan closed his eyes, Duncan stripped off his gloves and stuffed them into
his tunic. Clasping his hands together for just an instant in preparation, he stared [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]