Camber the Heretic (69 page)

He brushed the other's shields almost immediately; but to his relief, they began to subside, slowly, tentatively, at first, then with greater confidence, as superficial levels of Tavis's consciousness encountered and accepted Camber's gentle questing out. Camber went carefully, gathering all of his Camber essence back beyond what he intended to share with Tavis and beginning to reveal the Alister aspects, intending to go slowly, gingerly, so as not to startle the Healer.

But then, to his surprise, Tavis lowered every vestige of shielding and subterfuge, in one dizzying surge of blind, submissive trust. On instinct, Camber swept in behind the disintegrating shields, ready to pull out quickly if Tavis started to panic, but then letting himself merge with Tavis's thoughts in a breathless mingling of memories and perceptions.

It was the most nearly perfect rapport Camber could have dreamed of, under the circumstances, approaching that long-ago first contact with Jebediah for sheer ecstasy of psychic communion outside the bonds of blood kin—excellent by the most exacting of standards. He was dazzled, by turns awed and appalled, but all of it was Tavis, and real; and some of the insights he gained into what was developing in Javan positively took his breath away.

The candle held between them had burst alight spontaneously in that first surge of raw awakening; but as the depth of rapport increased, and Tavis began to weave on his feet, the watching Joram came and took the candle away, to keep either of them from being burned—for the candle was the last thing on either man's mind by then.

It was as well he did, for Tavis's knees buckled shortly after that, voluntary muscle control melting away with his resistance as he settled into even deeper psychic realms, though at least he did not faint away as some people had been known to do at the intensity of such a first encounter. Camber caught him and eased him to the floor, managing not to lose contact or rapport, then settled down beside Tavis and let himself resubmerge. Javan tried to go to them, alarmed at Tavis's apparent collapse, but Jebediah restrained him and tried to explain, guessing what Tavis must be experiencing and remembering his own first rapport with Camber. Tavis, of course, did not know that it was Camber, but the force of Alister Cullen alone was more than sufficient to give Tavis an experience he would never forget.

Camber shared all he could of Alister Cullen, and his relationship with all the others—Joram and Jebediah and Rhys and Evaine, and even Jaffray and Emrys and Queron—giving Tavis the background of their mission over the past twelve years and even projecting the details of the Camberian Council's function and existence—for he sensed instinctively that Tavis should eventually be among their number, and told him so.

He did not share his part in the events of the night of Cinhil's death, or his real identity as Camber, but other than that he opened his mind as fully as his priestly office would allow. Even the pain of Rhys's death was worked through, the guilt and remorse expiated, the grief laid to rest.

One subject it was essential that they explore further, now that Tavis seemed the sole inheritor of Rhys's Deryni-blocking talent, and that was the need of a Healer to work with Revan. Tavis did not exactly volunteer, for he was torn between his loyalty to Javan—the need to aid his prince as long as possible—and the recognition that the Revan movement also presented increasingly important potential to protect a large number of Deryni. However, he did agree to begin working with Queron to round out his training as a Healer, to take on the search for other Healers who could also learn and, if another Healer had not been found by then, to consider joining Revan when his position with Javan became no longer tenable. It was a precarious balance of
ifs
, but without consulting Javan, Tavis did not feel he had the right to make a more definite commitment. Camber had to agree.

Tavis, when he finally opened his eyes, found himself lying flat on his back with a benignly smiling archbishop sitting on one side of him and a worried-looking prince kneeling on the other. Joram crouched beyond Javan, holding a lighted candle and wearing a tight little smile. Jebediah and Niallan stood beyond them, Jebediah looking especially pleased.

“How—how did I get on the floor?” Tavis asked sheepishly.

“You unlocked your knees,” Camber said easily. “It's quite common. Some people, like Joram, can go to just about any level while on their feet and even functioning. Others, like Jebediah, go completely limp when they go into trance. I don't know whether it has to do with training, or what. Perhaps there's a physiological difference—rather the way different patients will respond to a Healer's sleep commands. I noticed such variations when I used to work with Rhys.”

Tavis seemed to consider that carefully, but without the pain which Rhys's name would have evoked before rapport with Camber. His shields were back in place, but not tightly so. Now there was casual seepage around the edges, so that Camber could constantly catch vague impressions of the direction of Tavis's thought, much as he could do with Joram or Jebediah when in close proximity. He caught Tavis's shift back to contemplation of what had just happened between the two of them and smiled as the Healer glanced up at him incredulously.

“Alister, did we really just do what I think we did?” he whispered.

Slowly Camber nodded, amazed and a little sad that Tavis apparently had never managed to experience that level of rapport before tonight, in all his twenty-five years. He realized now how much he had taken for granted all his life, that there must be many Deryni like Tavis, some of them even highly trained as he was, who had never achieved that awesome sharing which was their birthright.

“You did incredibly well, Tavis,” he said with a smile. “I don't know how we managed to miss you all these years, but I think you're going to be an enormous asset to our cause.”

“I'll certainly try to be,” Tavis returned warmly. “I'm only sorry I fought you for so long.”

“What about me?” Javan blurted, brash yet a little fearful as he edged closer on his knees. “I want to help, too! I can, you know.”

“Javan!” Tavis chided, sitting up the rest of the way with Camber's help.

“No, it's all right,” Camber said, wondering whether he really wanted to cope with Javan, too, after the emotional drain of Tavis. The exchange had been a heady one, and one which he would not have missed, but it had left his equilibrium a bit askew, as so profound an initial rapport often did. Still, if Javan was ready to trust them now, ready to open those impossible shields, this was an opportunity not to be passed up. A quick probe in the direction of Joram and Jebediah revealed that they shared his expectation and backed his reasoning.

“Javan, do you understand what just happened between Tavis and me?” he asked softly.

“I—think so.”

“What did happen?”

“Well, you both—let down your shields and you—went into each other's minds?”

Camber nodded. “Essentially, yes. But that's only the most superficial of explanations. Tavis trusted me, and he offered me the knowledge of everything he is, in equal sharing. It's the most intimate gift that two people can share, Javan, for it's the gift of perfect, unquestioning trust and acceptance. One does not give that gift indiscriminately; but when it is given, it must be without reservation, save for details which would violate another's confidence. Can you comprehend that?”

Javan swallowed audibly, wide-eyed with awe, then gave a careful nod.

“
I
have shields, Father Alister,” the boy whispered tentatively. “Did Tavis tell you?”

“He did. And that you have learned to raise and lower them at will, just as we can. Have you really?”

Javan stared at Camber uncertainly, glanced at Tavis, back at Camber. For a moment, Camber was sure he was going to back down from what he had begun; but then the boy lowered his eyes shyly and spoke in a whisper.

“Do you want to see? I've—never done it for anyone except Tavis, but I'll try, if you like.”

As he looked up at Camber, a little fearfully, wanting to trust yet still uncertain whether he dared, Camber still was not sure how or whether he wanted to attempt this tonight. Fortunately, Tavis took the matter out of his hands.

“I have a suggestion, Alister.”

“Yes?”

“Well, this is very alien to Javan. If it overwhelmed me, with my training, you can see how it must be doubly frightening to him.”

“Are you saying that you don't think he's ready for this?” Camber asked.

“Maybe not for your touch—yet—but he does know mine,” the Healer replied. “Why don't we let him lower his shields through me, and then you can establish a light link indirectly.”

“Fair enough.”

Javan looked visibly relieved at that, and as he settled down cross-legged in front of the Healer, Camber beckoned for Joram to attend him. Joram blew out the candle he was still holding and gave it to Niallan, then took a place between Camber and Javan, resting his hand lightly on Camber's knee. Jebediah came and crouched behind the two of them, leaning an elbow casually on each man's shoulder.

Healer and prince settled quickly, the boy's eyes fluttering closed at a few low words from his mentor. After a few seconds, Tavis laid his hand lightly on Javan's forehead, himself nodding a little as he pushed himself down to working level and established the bond between himself and the boy, then signalled Camber to join the link. Rapport was tenuous this time, for Javan was not yet able to lower his shields very far, or with a great deal of consistency, especially with the link thus expanded, but the boy did have shields: bright, adamantine shields that would have done any Deryni proud.

For just a few seconds, Camber was able to hold the bonding, to see several levels into Javan's mind and perceive a bright, scintillating knot of
something
with tendrils extending outward from it—but then both Tavis's and Javan's control started to slip.

As Tavis withdrew, dissolving the link, he seemed puzzled about the brilliant knot, and looked at Camber in question.

“Do you know what that was?” he asked.

Camber nodded. “Yes, I do. Unfortunately, I can't tell you.”

“You can't—does it have something to do with what happened the night his father died?” Tavis guessed, sitting forward avidly as Javan did the same.

Camber raised one unruly eyebrow, thoughtfully linking in with Joram and Jebediah as he considered the question. He could not tell Healer and prince all of what had occurred that night. On the other hand, by all that Tavis had told him of Javan—plus his own observation—the boy had not reacted precisely as they had planned, either. He should not have shields; he should not be spontaneously learning to Truth-Read; and that bright knot of incipient power was something which Camber had not thought to see until and unless Javan became king.

“I may not tell you precisely what happened,” he said. “I gave my word to Cinhil, as did the others who were there. I can tell you, however, since you know some of the results already, that what was done has to do with the succession. Cinhil had planned for—certain effects to be manifested in Alroy first. In that, he partially succeeded. The potential is surely there. Unfortunately, the regents have your brother in too firm a hold. I doubt that he will ever use what he was given—and thank God for that, since he has become the regents' tool.”

“That isn't his fault!” Javan began hotly.

Camber touched the prince's shoulder reassuringly. “I know it isn't his fault, son. But the fact remains that Alroy is not his own man, and may likely never be. He may not even live to be a man. Rhys was very concerned about his health.”

“You mean he may die?” Javan gasped. “Tavis, is that true?”

Sighing, Tavis lowered his eyes. “He's always been sickly, Javan, you know that. I think the regents keep him sedated a good deal of the time, too. You've noticed how he sometimes nods off at Court. There was nothing either of us could do about it, so I didn't tell you. I didn't want you to worry any sooner than you have to.”

Stunned, Javan looked from face to face, seeing confirmation even in the kindly Niallan's eyes.

“Is he—going to die because of them?” the boy finally asked. “Are the regents going to kill my brother?”

Camber shook his head. “No. In fact, it's much to the regents' advantage to keep Alroy alive as long as possible. They can control him, where they're not so sure about you. That's one of the many reasons they'd like to get rid of Tavis, too. He encourages you to think and he keeps them from turning you into the same kind of puppet they've made of Alroy. When Tavis is eventually forced to leave, you must be terribly careful. Don't think for a minute that they're fooled by your simple-minded act.”

Javan stared at him in silence for a long moment, then looked down at his feet. “You said that what was done to me—had to do with the succession.”

“Yes.”

“Then, my shields, and the way I'm starting to know whether people are lying—”

“—are part of what should have come to you only if you became king,” Camber replied. “You can see the reason for that, I think. If things had gone as your father planned, each of you three boys would have remained unchanged, so far as you were consciously aware, until and unless you came to the throne. Even then, awareness would have come only if there was need. I think your father was trying to set a precedent for the future: that only one Haldane heir should gain—what we gave you—at a time.”

“Why has this happened to me, then?” Javan asked.

“Probably the same principle we spoke of earlier,” Tavis interjected. “Different people respond differently to the same experiences.” He glanced wistfully at Camber. “Alister, I don't suppose that we could just—oh, go ahead and let—whatever it was, run, since he's already discovering a part of it?”