Kurtz, Katherine - King Kelson 02 - King's Justice

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KING'S JUSTICE
PROLOGUE
And the king shall do according to his will.
-Daniel 11:30
"I tell you, he isn't going to change his mind," the Deryni Bishop
Arilan said, slapping the ivory table with both palms for emphasis as his gaze
swept the three men and three women seated with him in the vaulted chamber.
"Not only will he not change-he refuses to even discuss it."
"But, he must discuss it!" Laran ap Pardyce, wizened and frail-looking
in his black scholar's robes, was clearly appalled. "No Haldane king has ever
done this before. Surely you've warned him what might happen."
In the wan, purpled light filtering through the room's great octagonal
dome, Arilan leaned his head against the high back of his chair and breathed a
forbearing sigh, praying for patience.
"I have-repeatedly."
"And?" the woman to his left asked.
"And if I continue to press the point, he may cease to confide in me at
all." He turned his head to look at her wearily. "You may not think that
likely, Kyri, but it could yet come to that. God knows, he certainly doesn't
trust us as a group."
The group was the Camberian Council, of course; and the subject of their
discussion was the seventeen-year-old King of Gwynedd: Kelson Cinhil Rhys
Anthony Haldane, now more than three years on his murdered father's throne.
Nor had the last three years been easy, for Council, king, or kingdom.
Any boy-king might have fostered uneasiness among those designated to advise
him-and despite the fact that few outside the room even knew of its existence,
the Camberian Council considered itself so designated for the House of
Haldane. But Kelson, unlike most sovereigns come prematurely to their thrones,
had fallen heir to magic: the puissant and forbidden Deryni bloodline of his
mother, Queen Jehana, her heritage unknown even to herself before she was
forced to use it at his coronation, and the equally powerful Haldane potential
for the assumption of magical abilities from King Brion, his father.
In anyone but Kelson, the combination might have been deadly, for Deryni
were almost universally feared throughout Gwynedd, and hated by many. Before
the Haldane Restoration two centuries before, Gwynedd had lain under Deryni
domination for generations, Deryni sorcery enforcing the will of a despotic
line that had not hesitated to advance Deryni fortunes over human in whatever
way was most expedient. So had Deryni magic come to be despised as well as
feared; and few knew or remembered any longer that Deryni as well as humans
had fought to overthrow the Deryni tyrants, or that a discredited Deryni
saint, besides giving his name to the Council that met in this secret chamber,
had first triggered the magic of the Haldane kings.
Kelson knew, of course. And like generations of Haldanes before him, he
had managed to represent that magic as an aspect of his divine right as king,
walking a narrow balance between impotence, if he did not use his powers, and
heresy, if he did-for much might be overlooked in the protection of people and
Crown. Such a ploy was vital camouflage in a land where many humans still
sought retribution for the years of Deryni persecution, and where any
extraordinary power not demonstrably come of divine favor was regarded with
fearful, often deadly, interest by a hostile and jealous Church.
Nor had the Church's suspicion of magic arisen only with the coming of
the Deryni. Extraordinary or seemingly miraculous occurrences outside the
limits defined by Scripture had always fallen under the wary scrutiny of those
whose function it was to guard the purity of the faith; and irresponsible use
of magic, either by or in the service of the new overlords, only tended to
reinforce the belief that magic was very likely evil. As reaction set in after
their overthrow, ecclesiastical restrictions followed close on civil
reprisals, and the Deryni themselves came to be regarded as evil, even though
there had been Healers and holy men among them. The Church's hostility toward
the Deryni as a race continued to the present, even though civil restrictions
had begun to abate in the last two decades. Outside the Council, not a dozen
persons knew Bishop Denis Arilan's true identity as Deryni-and he was one of
only two Deryni priests he knew.
Nor was that other Deryni priest free of controversy, though his Deryni
blood was almost as well kept a secret outside the Council as Arilan's. Father
Duncan McLain, recently become Duke of Cassan, Earl of Kierney, and also a
bishop, was Deryni only on his mother's side - a half-breed, in the eyes of
the Council - but they held him at least partially responsible for the king's
continued reluctance to accept Council guidance.
For Kelson had been assisted to power, both civil and magical, not by
the Council, with its emphasis on "proper" training and formal recognitions,
but by Duncan and his equally half-breed cousin Alaric Morgan, the powerful
but grudgingly respected Deryni Duke of Corwyn, both of whose mastery of their
powers had come largely from chance and their own hard work.
So might Kelson also have been counted-half-breed and, therefore,
outside the pale of Council protection-were it not for his father's Haldane
blood, and the addition that made to his already powerful Deryni heritage. It
was the former that concerned the Council today, as rebellion grew in one of
Gwynedd's western provinces and her king prepared to designate his uncle as
his heir before going on campaign to quell it, having yet no heir of his own
body.
"Well, he does no service to Prince Nigel if he does succeed in what he
plans," old Vivienne said, shaking her grey head in disapproval. "Once Nigel
has tasted even a part of the Haldane potential, he may not be eager to give
it up."
"He will have to give it up, once Kelson has a son," Arilan said.
"And if he refuses, or he cannot?" asked Barren de Laney, from Arilan's
right, senior member of the Council and Coadjutor with the older woman seated
across from him. "I know you believe Nigel's scruples to be as pure as your
own, Denis-and indeed, they may be. But suppose Kelson can't reverse the
process. Will you be able to reverse it, if he cannot?"
"I, personally? Of course not. But Nigel-"
Across the table. Tiercel de Claron yawned indolently and slouched a
little deeper in his chair.
"Oh, we needn't worry on that account," he said, his voice edged with
sarcasm. "If Denis can't undo it, and Kelson can't, I'm sure someone will find
a way simply to eliminate our good Prince Nigel. That's what will have to
happen, you know," he added, looking up, at several mutters of indignation.
"After all, we can't have more than one Haldane holding the power at once,
now, can we?"
"Tiercel, you're not going to start that old argument again, are you?"
Barrett asked.
"Why not? Tell me what earthly harm it would do if more than one Haldane
could hold the Haldane power at a time. We don't know that it can be done, but
what if it could?"
As Tiercel leaned his head heavily on one hand and began tracing a slow,
spiraling pattern on the inlaid table, Vivienne, the second Coadjutor, turned
her grey head majestically toward their youngest member.
"I'm sorry if we bore you, Tiercel," she said sharply. "Tell me, is it
your deliberate iatention to stir up dissent, or have you simply forgotten to
think? You know that the very notion is forbidden, even if it were possible."
Tiercel stiffened, and his hand ceased its idle movement, but he did not
look up as Vivienne continued.
"And as for Nigel, if circumstances demand it, Nigel will be eliminated.
The terms and conditions of the Haldane inheritance were set down two
centuries ago by our blessed patron. In all that time, they have not been
broken. There were reasons for that, which I cannot expect you to understand."
Tiercel finally looked up at her last comment, his expression eliciting
more than one raised eyebrow and indrawn breath. For though it was not unusual
for the pair to spar at one another, older generation against new, Vivienne's
caustic retort struck perilously close to Tiercel's chiefest insecurity: that,
having less than half the years of nearly every other member of the Council,
his experience, of necessity, must be somewhat less extensive-for he was only
a few years older than the king himself. In fact, his theoretical knowledge
was matched by few of them; but that reality did not always enable him to
ignore what he perceived as attacks on his personal worth. As genuine anger
glinted in Tiercel's almond-colored eyes, cold and dangerous, the physician
Laran laid a warning hand on Vivienne's arm.
"Enough, Vivienne. Tiercel, both of you, stop it!" he murmured,
automatically glancing across at Barrett, even though the man had been blind
for half a century.
Barrett, do something, he sent mentally.
Barrett was already raising the ivory wand of his office in a ritual
gesture of warning, his emerald gaze locked sight-lessly on Tiercel's face.
"Tiercel, let it be," he commanded. "If we quarrel, we accomplish
nothing. Every effort will be made to spare Nigel."
Tiercel snorted and crossed his arms across his chest, though he did not
speak.
"We must not forget Kelson's part in this, either," Barrett continued.
"In sharing his authority with his uncle, he but answers his duty as he sees
it-which is to leave his present heir with the ability to carry on, should he
fall in battle. Surely you would not have Kelson abrogate his responsibility
by failing to make the proper provisions?"
Only barely subdued, Tiercel shook his head, apparently still not
trusting himself to speak.
"And you, Vivienne." Barrett turned his attention to the other. "You
need not be so deliberately cold about Nigel's fate. It is a solemn duty he
accepts when he submits to the power that will be laid upon him. Our duty is
no less solemn, should we be called upon to exercise it."
"He does not bear the blood," Vivienne murmured, low and petulant.
"Oh, Vivienne..."
From across the table, between Barrett and Tiercel, faintly mocking
laughter floated like the chime of precious crystal: Sofiana, the one among
their number who had not yet spoken, the most recent but by no means the
youngest or even the most junior member of the Camberian Council.
More than twenty years before, when even younger than Tiercel, Sofiana
of Andelon had served the Council brilliantly, resigning only on the death of
her father without male heir. Now Sovereign Princess of Andelon for more than
a decade, her children grown or nearly so, she had returned at the Council's
behest the previous summer to fill the seat of Thome Hagen-threatened with
suspension if he did not resign, for his connivance with Wencit of Torenth and
Rhydon of Eastmarch in the Gwynedd-Torenth War. A second vacancy, more
directly caused by the war, remained unfilled: the seat of Stefan Coram,
Vivienne's predecessor as Coadjutor, who, unknown even to the Council at the
time, had chosen to play a doubly dangerous game of deception that eventually
cost him his life-though it spared Kelson his crown.
Sofiana's record, and her lack of involvement with the intrigue and
internal bickering that had marred the Council's deliberations increasingly
since Kelson's accession, made her uniquely qualified for the position she now
filled. She had also brought a breath of fresh insight and rare humor into the
formerly stodgy assembly.
"What does that mean anymore, to be 'of the blood?'" she asked quietly,
leaning her pointed chin on the back of one slender hand, lively black eyes
turned on Vivienne in droll curiosity. "After two centuries of persecution,
perhaps there are very few among our race who can truthfully attest to pure
Deryni lineage, even to the time of Camber."
Flame-haired Kyri, the youngest of the three women, raised her chin
toward Sofiana in exception, her resentment at the newcomer's more exotic
beauty only thinly veiled.
"I can so attest," she said haughtily. "And for two centuries before
that. Nonetheless, have we not always held that the proof of the blood is in
the doing?"
"I will grant you that," Sofiana conceded. "However, by that definition,
Brion himself was Deryni."
"That's preposterous-"
"And Nigel, like Brion, carries the Haldane blood-which may be just as
powerful, in its way, as the purest Deryni- whatever that is. So perhaps Nigel
is Deryni. And Warin de Grey. He can heal, after all," she added.
The ripple of their objection began to appear in outraged eyes, on
parted lips, but she stayed them with a gesture of her free hand without even
lifting her head from its resting place, coolly regal and assured in her
desert robes of silver-shot purple.
"Be at ease, my friends. I am the first to concede that we are not
talking about healing at this juncture, though I know that is of abiding
interest to our esteemed senior Coadjutor and the faithful Laran." She smiled
indulgently at both Barrett and Laran.
"We are concerned here with the Haldane potential. What is it that makes
this particular family susceptible to having Deryni-like powers placed upon
them? For that matter, Wencit of Torenth, for all his villainy, apparently
discovered a way to place similar powers upon supposed humans-witness Bran
Coris. The late Duke Lionel and his brother Ma-hael also seem to have received
this benison. Perhaps what is called the Haldane potential in Gwynedd, then,
occurs elsewhere as well, and is actually a lesser degree of Deryniness-or a
greater one."
"A greater one?" asked a surprised Tiercel.
"It is possible. I say 'greater' because the Haldane power comes upon
the recipient full-blown, fully accessible, even if not fully understood. In
some respects, at least, that is surely superior to having to learn how to use
one's powers- which is what most 'pure' Deryni have had to do, from time
immemorial."
Arilan, though more inclined to Sofiana's reasoning than to anyone
else's, stopped his impatient turning of his bishop's ring and furrowed his
brow.
"Take care, Sofiana, or soon you will be asking us to believe that
everyone is Deryni."
Sofiana smiled and leaned back in her chair, silvery ear-rings chiming
melodically as she shook her head.
"Never that, my friend, though it would certainly solve many problems-
and doubtless create other worse ones," she added, at Vivienne's look of
horror. "Consider, too, that the Haldane potential could be just such an
obscure facet of our Deryniness as Morgan and McLain's 'rogue' healing talent,
both gifts requiring special training and handling, and both sometimes arising
spontaneously."
Arilan whistled low under his breath, and Laran glanced at Barrett in
astonishment as the others buzzed among themselves. Privately, Arilan himself
had examined that very possibility more than once, and felt certain he was not
alone in that, but no one had ever dared to voice it in full Council. Laran,
as a physician, and Barrett, whose sight might conceivably be restored if the
healing gifts could be re-leashed, also would have given the subject ample
consideration, Arilan felt sure.
"But, that, too, is a topic for another day," Sofiana went on. "Our
immediate concern, if I understand correctly, is that Kelson is about to act
against our better judgment. Short of our physical intervention, however, I
fear there is little we can do to prevent it, in this particular instance."
"I believe you'll receive no argument on that point," Barrett said. "But
your choice of words suggests some future remedy."
"If we are bold enough to take it-yes. If, as we seem to agree, there is
no question that Kelson is to be regarded as 'of the blood,' as Vivienne so
quaintly put it, then I suggest that we have the means totally within our
power to control him-and have had it for several years, in fact. Bring him
into the Council."
She ignored their gasps as she raised a hand toward the high-backed
chair standing empty between Tiercel and Vivienne.
"Bring him into the Council and bind him by the same oaths that bind the
rest of us. Or are you afraid of him?"
"Of course not!" Vivienne said indignantly.
"He is strong enough," Sofiana countered. "He is mature far beyond his
years."
"He is untrained."
"Then, let us take his training upon ourselves, and make sure he
receives proper supervision."
"He lacks other qualities."
"Such as?"
"Do not push me, Sofiana, I warn you!"
"What qualities does he lack?" Sofiana persisted. "I am willing to be
persuaded that he is not, indeed, ready, but you must give me a specific
reason."
"Very well." Vivienne lifted her head in defiance. "He is not yet
sufficiently ruthless."
"He is not yet sufficiently ruthless," Sofiana repeated. "I see. Then,
would you rather have Morgan or McLain?"
"Are you mad?" Laran gasped, the first one bold enough to intervene in
the exchange.
"It's absolutely out of the question!" Kyri said, with an emphatic shake
of her fiery mane.
"Then, elect some other Deryni willing to accept the responsibility,"
Sofiana replied. "We operate at less than our full potential, with our number
incomplete. How long must Stefan Coram's seat sit vacant?"
"Better vacant than filled by one unready to wield its power," Vivienne
snapped.
Arilan watched and listened in some amusement as reaction continued to
run its course around the table: Vivienne and Kyri continuing to challenge
Sofiana over the very notion; Laran deeply disturbed; Tiercel excited but
thoughtful, not saying anything for once; only Barrett unreadable, sitting
still and solitary in his own mind between Arilan and Sofiana.
Nor was bringing Kelson into the Council a bad idea- someday. In the
beginning, though the Council quickly agreed to acknowledge the king as full
Deryni, no one even tried to argue that he was skilled or experienced enough.
But in the three years since truly securing his throne. Kelson had learned
many a hard lesson of kingship and of manhood. Arilan was in a unique position
to report to them on that. In fact, it was Arilan who had first broached the
subject of Kelson's candidacy; Arilan who had continued to pursue the notion,
albeit far more gently than Sofiana's efforts of late; Arilan who, alone of
all the seven of them, had ongoing contact with the king and knew, better than
any, just how hard and disciplined-and powerful-the king was becoming. No
摘要：

KING'SJUSTICEPROLOGUEAndthekingshalldoaccordingtohiswill.-Daniel11:30"Itellyou,heisn'tgoingtochangehismind,"theDeryniBishopArilansaid,slappingtheivorytablewithbothpalmsforemphasisashisgazesweptthethreemenandthreewomenseatedwithhiminthevaultedchamber."Notonlywillhenotchange-herefusestoevendiscussit."...

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