The Bishop’s Heir (62 page)

The chime of the sacring bell plunged him into profound reverence as he and his fellow priests followed the archbishop's bows and elevation, and he hardly dared to look at the chalice the archbishop raised next, faith and fear tumbling wildly in his heart as he echoed de Nore's words.

“Simili modo postquam coenatum est, accipiens et hunc praeclarum Calicem in sanctas ac venerabiles manus suas.”
In like manner, when He had supped, He took this goodly cup into His holy and venerable hands …

Help, Lord, for the godly man ceaseth; for the faithful fall from among the children of men!
Denis prayed.

“Hie est einem calix sanguinis mei …”
This is the chalice of my blood, of the new and everlasting covenant, a mystery of faith. It shall be shed for you and many others so that sins may be forgiven. Whenever you shall do these things, you shall do them in memory of me …

In a magic that had nothing to do with being either Deryni or human, Denis
became
the sacrifice in that instant, offering up his own life's blood in unreserved dedication, as the Christ had offered His and Jorian had offered his. A profound peace filled him as he followed the rest of the prayers leading to communion and then knelt with the others to receive first the bread and then the wine. The Host was light as dew on his tongue; and he allowed himself but one thought as de Nore brought the great chalice to his lips and he reached up to lightly steady it.

Into Thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit. May it be done according to Thy will …

“Sanguis Domini nostri Jesu Christi custodial animam tuam in vitam aeternam,”
de Nore murmured. May the blood of Our Lord Jesus Christ preserve thy soul unto everlasting life …

Barely mouthing his “Amen,” Denis drank from the cup. The wine was sweet and heady, lighter than he remembered, igniting a gentle but growing tingle that spread from his stomach, up his spinal column, and out to the tips of his fingers and toes, to explode at the back of his head in a starburst of warmth and light and love—and it was not
merasha
.

Light seemed to fountain from the vessels still on the altar, from the tabernacle on the credence shelf behind it, from the chalice de Nore carried back to the altar, and Denis sensed a similar energy pulsing through the bodies of all those assembled to assist. Benjamin and Melwas, kneeling reverently to either side of him, had the same glow; and the ciborium de Nore set solemnly in his hands a few minutes later throbbed gently with a rhythm that was the heartbeat of the universe, silvery radiance spilling from the cup to bathe his hands in light that apparently only he could see.

He felt as if he was floating a handspan off the ground as he rose to go down to the communion rail where his brother waited with the other members of the new priests' families to receive the Sacrament. Indeed, he made certain he was
not
floating, for the way he felt—his Deryni powers not only intact but apparently enhanced—he thought he
could
have, given even a whit more provocation. The intimacy of the moment in which, a priest at last, he gave his brother Holy Communion for the first time, was almost too much joy to contain, the awe and wonder on Jamyl's face a sight he would cherish until the day he died.

And when the king slipped in to kneel beside Jamyl, pointedly turning his face toward Denis when de Nore would have come to claim the privilege, Denis could only marvel silently at the sign of royal favor. To give the Sacrament to his king set yet another seal on this most glorious and blessed day of his life.

His perceptions gradually diminished to more normal levels as he settled into ministering to the other communicants come forward to receive, and he sensed a slight lethargy stealing along his limbs as he neared the end, but that was surely from sheer physical fatigue and Laran's medicines, not
merasha
's insidious corruption. The sedative effect was stronger than he had expected from the one sample he'd had from Laran, but not uncomfortably so—though he did see Charles stifle a yawn, a little farther along the rail, and sensed Melwas and Argostino fighting drowsiness, too.

Physical after-reaction threatened more insistently as he returned to the altar to surrender his ciborium, but he was able to counteract much of it by running through a brief fatigue-banishing spell as he knelt with his brethren to watch de Nore and Gorony consolidate the contents of all the ciboria into one and place it in the tabernacle. Then de Nore returned to his faldstool to kneel in meditation while Gorony performed the final ablutions—the last opportunity for something to go wrong. For if Gorony detected any difference in the taste of the wine.

Fortunately, the nervous seminarian who came forward to pour the wine and water for Gorony was clumsy, and the wine cruet slipped from his shaking fingers and shattered on the marble floor before he or anyone else could prevent it. Gorony's obvious impatience was distracted by the king choosing that moment to rise and slip quietly back up the aisle with his attendants, to escape before the crowds began to leave, and the archbishop's chaplain simply signaled for more wine to be brought from the sacristy—by Stefan, who sternly escorted the disgraced seminarian back into the sacristy, where Deryni persuasion undoubtedly dealt with whatever memory he might have had of his “accident” having been commanded.

“How did you do it?” Denis was finally able to ask his brother later that night, when an oddly tense Jamyl drew him aside for a few moments during the celebration feast, both of them confirming with Deryni senses that they could not be overheard. “It must have been when you brought the cruet forward at the Offertory.” Solemnly, Jamyl shook his head. “I didn't do it, Denis,” he whispered. “I couldn't. They were watching too closely. I don't know what happened, but you drank
merasha
and you weren't affected.”

“What?”

The king chose that moment to come up to Denis for a blessing, curtailing all further discussion with Jamyl, but Denis pondered the implications of Jamyl's revelation for the rest of the evening and, later that night, knelt in trembling question and thanksgiving in the now deserted church.

Or, no, not deserted. The red lamp burning before the tabernacle reminded him of that—if ever he could have forgotten it after what had happened. And as he lifted his eyes timidly to the Crowned King on the cross above the altar, he knew that he had experienced as much of a miracle as any man could ever hope for—and that he would spend the rest of his life trying to serve the purpose of the One Who had spared him today.

O Lord, I am Deryni, but I am also Your child,
he prayed.
And though I never really doubted, now I truly believe You have ordained the time to bring Your other Deryni children back into an equal partnership with the sons of humankind—for You have saved me from the wrath of men who would misuse Your Sacrament to destroy me. For this salvation, I give You thanks.

He swallowed with difficulty and eased back on his heels, trying to still the trembling of his clasped hands.
I think perhaps we Deryni are not really so different from other men after all, Lord,
he went on more boldly, searching the serene Face.
You give us gifts the humans do not understand and therefore fear—and some among our number have, indeed, abused their gifts in the past, and doubtless will do so in the future—but so doth mankind in his frailty abuse many other gifts not unique to the Deryni. We ask no special favor, Lord only, let us be judged by our fellows and by You on our individual merits and failings, and not on the merits and failings of our race.

He bowed his head and closed his eyes.

Adsum,
Domine—here am I, Lord. You called me in the hour of my begetting, and today I have publicly answered that call and bound me to Your service. Nor did You forsake me in my hour of need. Give me wisdom and strength, Lord, to know Your will and to do it as best I can, that I may always be Your true priest and servant, ministering to all Your children, both human and Deryni, with tolerance, compassion, and love … That IS why You saved me—isn't it?

In days to come, whenever he returned to the memory of that jumbled monologue with God, he would never be really certain whether his imagination had gotten the better of him, or whether, as he raised his head, his eyes swimming with tears, the image of the Sacred King actually had given a slight nod.

APPENDIX I

INDEX OF CHARACTERS

ALARIC
—
see Morgan
.

ALEXANDER
—a MacArdry scout.

ALROY
, King—late King of Torenth, eldest son of Duke Lionel of Arjenol and Princess Morag, sister of Wencit; killed in a fall from a horse while hunting, summer of 1123, shortly after his fourteenth birthday; succeeded by his younger brother Liam, age nine. Many in Torenth believe the “accident” was engineered by Kelson to eliminate a rival who had come of age.

ANNALIND
, Princess—twin sister of Roisian of Meara. After Roisian's marriage to King Malcolm Haldane in 1025, Annalind's adherents maintained that she, not Roisian, was the firstborn of the two sisters and, therefore, rightful heiress to the Coronet of Meara. Her descendants are Pretenders of Meara. Caitrin Quinnell is the current claimant.

ARDRY
MacArdry—eldest son and heir of Caulay; killed 1107, age 20, in brawl with a McLain retainer.

ARILAN
, Bishop Denis—formerly Auxilliary Bishop of Rheumuth, now Bishop of Dhassa, age 39; secretly Deryni and member of the Camberian Council.

BARRETT
de Laney—elderly Deryni; blind co-adjutor of the Camberian Council.

BELDEN
of Erne, Bishop—Bishop of Cashien.

BENOIT
, Father—a candidate for the office of Bishop of Meara.

BERTIE
MacArdry—young borderman wounded in skirmish and tended by Dhugal.

BEVIS
, Father—messenger sent from Saint Iveagh's to inform Kelson of Loris' escape.

BRADENE
, Bishop—former Bishop of Grecotha, now Archbishop of Valoret and Primate of Gwynedd.

BRAN
Coris, Lord—traitor Earl of Marley and former husband of Richenda; killed by Kelson.

BRENDAN
Coris, Lord—six-year-old Earl of Marley, son of Bran and Richenda.

BRICE
, Lord—Baron of Trurill.

BRION
, Donal Cinhil Urien Haldane, King—Kelson's late father; slain at Candor Rhea by the magic of Charissa, 1120.

BRIONY
Bronwyn de Morgan, Lady—infant daughter of Morgan and Richenda, born January 1123.

BRONWYN
de Morgan, Lady—sister of Morgan, slain by magic at Culdi with her betrothed, Duncan's brother Kevin.

BURCHARD
de Varian, Lord—general and current Earl of East-march, which he was awarded for his services in the Torenth War.

CABALL
MacArdry—castellan of Castle Transha and a chieftain of Clan MacArdry; next in succession to the clan's chiefship after Dhugal.

CAITRIN
Quinnell, Princess—the Pretender of Meara, age 61.

CALDER
of Sheele, Bishop—one of the 12 itinerant bishops of Gwynedd, with no fixed see.

CAMBER
of Culdi, Saint—outlawed Deryni saint of two centuries previous; patron of magic.

CARDIEL
, Bishop Thomas—former Bishop of Dhassa, now Archbishop of Rhemuth, age 44.

CARSTEN
, Bishop—deceased Bishop of Meara.

CAULAY
MacArdry—
see MacArdry, The
.

CHARISSA
, Lady—most recent aspirant to the Festillic claim to the Throne of Gwynedd; Deryni; slain by Kelson at his coronation by Duel Arcane.

CIARD
O Ruane—Dhugal's old gillie.

CONALL
, Prince—eldest son of Prince Nigel, and Kelson's cousin, age 16.

CONLAN
, Bishop—one of the 12 itinerant bishops of Gwynedd, with no fixed see.

CORAM
, Stefan—Deryni; deceased former co-adjutor of the Camberian Council.

CORRIGAN
, Archbishop Patrick—former Archbishop of Rhemuth, deceased (heart) 1121.

CREODA
, Bishop—Bishop of Culdi after dissolution of his former See of Carbury.

DANOC
, Earl of—one of Kelson's nobles.

DELACEY
, Bishop—former Bishop of Stavenham; died (pneumonia) 1122.

DERRY
, Sean Lord—young military aide to Morgan and member of Kelson's Council.

DERYNI
—(Der-ín-ee)

DEVLIN
—gleeman of Clan MacArdry.

DHUGAL
MacArdry, Lord—foster-brother to Kelson, age 15; Tanist of Clan MacArdry and Master of Transha.

DONAL
Blaine Haldane, King—grandfather of Kelson; died 1095.

DUNCAN
Howard McLain, Monsignor—Deryni priest-cousin of Morgan, age 31; Duke of Cassan and Earl of Kierney, following the deaths of his father and elder brother; incipient bishop.

ELAS
, Lord—one of Kelson's generals.

EWAN
, Duke—Duke of Claibourne and hereditary Lord Marshall of the Gwynedd Royal Council.

FULK
—a boyhood friend and blood-brother of Michael MacArdry.

GENDON
—a sergeant in service to Brice of Trurill.

GILBERT
Desmond, Bishop—one of the 12 itinerant bishops of Gwynedd.

GILES
—stuffy chief body squire to Kelson.

GLODDRUTH
, General—aide to Kelson, formerly in service of Duke Jared McLain.

GODWIN
, General—one of Kelson's generals.

GORONY,
Monsignor Lawrence—aide to Archbishop Loris.

HAMILTON,
Lord—seneschal of Morgan's castle at Coroth.