Forgotten Shadows

[revanne]

Edwin stared at the door through which Airich had made his exit and felt his face go red, no, not red, surely by this time it was a shining royal crimson. He didn't know which was the stronger emotion, rage or shame, but he knew absolutely which one he was going to give into. How dare he! How bloody dare he! How dare he make me look a fool, this lordling playing at being a commoner. In his heart Edwin knew that the only person to make him look a fool was himself but he wasn't ready to admit that even to himself.

Edwin allowed a contemptuous little laugh to pass his lips, then made as if to approach Gwendolyn. "My lady," he began but was forestalled by Elspeth, who stepped between them, holding a bundle of the soiled cloths which she had used to clean Gwendolyn's face and which she thrust at Edwin, her usually gentle brown eye glittering as sharply as her blue one.

"If you cannot speak sensibly, at least make yourself useful," the infirmarian said. "Take these into the sluice through that door and soak them in cold water."

Edwin had no choice but to obey, though the heat burning from his cheeks was surely enough to boil the water. He bowed stiffly to Gwendolyn and went through the door which Elspeth indicated, meaning to shut it between him and further humiliation. To his chagrin, Elspeth followed him and watched while he put the cloths into the sink, plugged the drain hole, and poured water from a large pitcher over them. If only it had been Bede, he could have relieved his feelings by punching the fellow, even though he'd have paid for it, likely ended up black and blue. Elspeth was the one member of the group who he truly respected. He still remembered the first tongue lashing he had received from her.

As Elspeth said nothing, but looked at him levelly, the anger drained away from Edwin and he turned to face her, "I'm a fool, aren't I? Made an idiot of myself for nothing, and destroyed the respect I hoped to win from Gwendolyn. It doesn't matter to Sir Airich, his future is what he makes it, mine depends on the goodwill of men like the Dean. Without their patronage I'm nothing but a jumped-up country scribe with ideas above my station. So much for being a bloody hero."

Kindness returned to Elspeth's eyes, though there was asperity in her voice as she spoke, "Yes you're a fool, but no more than any other who has the burden of being born male." She sighed, softening her tone, "And I won't say that I think Airich has behaved well either, though he's carrying his own burdens, God knows. You've sense enough to know that you're doing yourself no good, so grow up lad, and stop putting weapons into his hands."

Edwin turned back to the sink desperately biting his lip to stop the prickling of his eyes. Why couldn't she have just shouted at me? He heard the door close behind her and with gratitude realised that she had left the room. He stood with his head against the wall, then splashed his face with cold water. He dutifully wrung out the cloths and spread them on the edge of the sink to dry, then returned into the outer room and bowed formally to Gwendolyn. "My apologies, my lady, for my lack of decorum in your presence. I trust that your uncle's men will be here shortly to see you safely home." He nodded to Elspeth, chose not to look towards where Bede and Muirea sat, and went out.

[Jerusha]

"Well," Elspeth said as she turned to her patient in the infirmary. "I sometimes forget what it is like to be young and headstrong..."

"The young part or the headstrong part?" Bede interjected.

"Mostly the part that makes me happy not to be a young man trying to find his place in the world," she finished dryly.

"And in a university world with very high expectations," Gwendolyn added. "I don't envy them that."

"But sometimes you do envy them?" Elspeth asked.

"I envy their freedom to study without restraints," she added and winced.

"As do I," Elspeth said softly. She reached over and felt the younger woman's forehead and then checked her pulse. "How are you feeling now?"

Gwendolyn managed a smile. "Being clean has made a big difference, but my head is still pounding. Would you mix up a packet of the talicil for me?  It's mostly for fever, especially high ones, but surprisingly it's also effective against a merasha induced headache."

"Then you shall have some at once. Would you prefer it mixed with water or wine? And is there anything else needed to prepare it?"

"Water would be best," Gwendolyn said with a small sigh. "I don't think my stomach is up to wine yet. Just mix it well; it can take a moment or two to dissolve.

Amy immediately fetched a cup of water and handed it to Elspeth. The physicker poured the powder slowly into the water, carefully noting its color and texture, and how the fine crystals settled to the bottom of the cup, intact, despite Elspeth's careful swirling of the mixture. Suddenly the crystals seemed to fizz as they finally dissolved completely.

"How very interesting," the physicker murmured. Then she came to herself and quickly sat down beside her patient on the bed, gently slipping an arm under her shoulders to raise her up to drink the medicine.

Gwendolyn drank it slowly, but swallowed every last drop, and Elspeth lowered her back onto the pillow.

"How does it taste?" she couldn't help asking, and heard Amy "tsk" in her direction.

"A little bitter," her patient responded. "But well worth the taste to find relief."

"Forgive me for asking while you are still recovering," Eslpeth said. "But the formula for talicil is what I came to Grecotha to find, and here is the very substance itself, right before me!"

"Were you given access to the university library? You'll find a copy of the formula there."

"Amy and I were given access, and it was glorious! We were only allowed one day, but we did find the formula." Elspeth sighed wistfully. "I could have spent a week there, and never noticed the passage of time."

"I know," Gwendolyn said with a smile. "I don't have access to the library, but my uncle makes sure I have access to the books I need." Gwendolyn suddenly went very pale. "Oh Mistress Elspeth, will I be able to see again? What will I do if I can't read?"

"Do not worry yet," Elspeth replied gently, taking Gwendolyn's hand in her own. "I can't make promises, but rest and avoiding bright light will give your eyes the chance they need to heal."

They all turned as there was a knock at the door. Bede answered it and admitted the young novice, Aiden McLain. 

"The Dean's men have arrived to take you home," Aiden said as he bowed to Gwendolyn. "Your nurse is with them to assist."

"Thank you," Gwendolyn responded. "I hope I can still count on your care, Mistress Elspeth?"

"Of course," the physicker responded. "I will look in on you tomorrow, after you are settled at home."

Bede looked discomforted. In spite of Elspeth's good intention, he was not sure it was a good idea.

[Nezz]

Edwin found Airich back at the safehouse in his own room, sitting cross-legged on his cot and staring into the polished earthenware bowl on his lap. The door stood open.

"Sir Airich, I—" Edwin began, but was interrupted when Airich held up his hand in a recognizable gesture to stop. Of course milord doesn't want to be interrupted by the likes o' me. Edwin felt anger begin to rise in him again but with an effort he swallowed it down. He had come to apologise, and apologise he would, even if it meant humbling himself before this arrogant sprig of nobility. Don't think that way, he warned himself, then his attention was drawn away from his own thoughts by what Airich was doing. He stepped closer to see what was in the bowl that held Airich's rapt attention.

It was Pietre de Guerra's image that he saw on the surface of the liquid in the bowl. He seemed to be at the practice yard of the University. Edwin only caught a short glimpse of him before the vision went blurry.

Airich sighed and sat back against the wall, letting the image fade entirely until the bowl was filled with mere ink-stained water. He looked up at Edwin expectantly. His Shields were locked tight, blocking any emotion from slipping through.

"So all that pomp from last night, that was all just for show?" Edwin found himself saying. "You didn't really need the rest of us, you just wanted to show off?"

Shut up, fool, you're trying to make amends! he told himself. Airich eyes flashed, and he opened his mouth to retort, then closed it again, lips pressed tight as he looked away.

"It is not important that we be friends for this task the Bishop has set us on," Airich said, rising. He picked up a large, dark blue handkerchief, and used it as a sieve at the mouth of the bowl as he poured the gray water into the chamber pot. "Nor do we need to act friendly towards each other. But I should think civility is a must, and that seems to be beyond... us. As it stands, I don't even trust you anymore."

Airich selected a clean, dry handkerchief and used it to pluck de Guarre's silver button from the bottom of the bowl. "At any rate, to make the work bearable for us both, I'll be leaving in the morning."

"You're... leaving Grecotha?" At that moment, Edwin realized that—for all his talk about Airich leaving Grecotha in her hour of need—he never actually expected Airich would go. And he felt more than a twinge of terror, thinking that he and Amy would now be the only Deryni working for the Bishop, and them with only the meager training they'd received over the past week. Why, neither of them had the faintest clue how to spy on de Guarre, as Airich had apparently just been doing. 

"No, not leaving Grecotha, much as you would like to crow about my cowardice. I'll be seeking new lodgings, that's all. And I'll keep you apprised of my own developments through Amy."

He knelt to stash the button in a side pocket of his rucksack while Edwin stood wondering how things had got so out of control; it was the fear that he was losing Airich's friendship that had made him so angry in the first place, now it seemed that all his anger had served to do was to drive Airich, and all of them, into danger. Airich stood and suddenly turned on Edwin. "I don't even know what I did to make you hate me so much!"

For just a moment, Airich's mask dropped, and Edwin thought he saw something that, on any other man, he might call hurt. But then the Shields came back up and the mask returned. Airich continued, "Yesterday I thought we were mates, and today your contempt for me is so palpable I could run my sword through it and it would bleed. You make snide comments about my cowardice and trickery, and Lord knows what you said to them about me after I left the infirmary, using your eloquence to turn me into a fool, convincing them that I've somehow treated you poorly." Airich stopped, and took several deep breaths to get ahold of himself.

"I will ask this much of you," he said, his voice returning to its normal tone. "Would you at least tell me what my offense against you has been? So I can avoid such behavior in the future with other companions? And don't hint or imply or insinuate while insulting me behind pretty words: please tell me in straightforward sentences, as if you were speaking to a simple horse-breeder from Derry."

Edwin wondered how he could possibly make the other understand how he felt. In his emotion, the border brogue of his home crept into his speech again and he was horribly aware that he was shifting from foot to foot like a boy explaining his misdemenours to his schoolmaster. "Ah dinna understand how ye can be one thing one day, and another the naist. I thought that ah was dealin' wi' "a mate", but that's no' the case is't? I dinna like being played wi' like a bairn, that's all."

Airich sat heavily on his cot. He looked exhausted. "I'm not playing you. I'm a man, like any other, which means I play many roles. One day I'm the son of an earl, the next day I'm mucking out the stables. I'm a knight and a sorcerer. I'm half-Deryni, which means I'm also half-Human, and I'm just as proud of my father's blood as I am my mother's."

"But you've never told us your station in life, have you?" Edwin countered, taking care to try to sound less like a country bumpkin. "You've finally admitted just a few hours since to be of noble birth, and this is something you should have shared with us days ago. That's a big part of what's got me so wound up,"

Airich stared at Edwin in puzzlement. "Let me see if I understand you," he finally said, disbelief in his eyes. "You are upset with me because I did not come into the library and announce my pedigree to one and all, and demand to be treated like a lord? Were my clothes so drab that you mistook me for having common blood? My manner so base that you didn't guess that I might be of the aristocracy? Next time I'll remember to send my trumpeters in before me, announcing to all and sundry that the third son of Sean Earl Derry has entered the room and he is a Deryni Lord—"

"You know that's not what I mean—"

"Quiet, sirrah! Do not interrupt your betters!"

[revanne]

"Quiet, sirrah! Do not interrupt your betters!" Airich stood and advanced on Edwin. His expression made it clear he would brook no argument, and Edwin visibly flinched at the arrogance in the other's tone. Maybe it would be better to drop to his knees and grovel if that was what was required of him. Then Airich's face softened. "Is that really how you want me to behave? A self-important, bratty lordling? I know how to put on airs that would make de Guerra sit up and take notice. But it's not really who I am." He dropped back to the cot, his anger spent.

The unexpected softening made Edwin pause; perhaps he could make a last attempt to explain. He took a deep breath and tried again. Better lance the bitterness inside him once and for all. He moved to sit on the cot facing Airich and forced himself to relax his hands, which had clenched with tension.

"No it isn't, but you are a lord for all that. It makes a difference. We both know we should not have quarrelled in front of Mistress Gwendolyn and we have both apologised. And for you that is the end of it. But for me there goes any hope I had of advancement when she speaks of it to her uncle, as she surely will. No, don't mistake me!" - this as he saw Airich's mouth beginning to argue - "I did not rescue her because I hoped it would do me some good. I'm not that much of a churl, however I might look. But I would be a fool not to hope that the Dean would look on me more kindly. Without the patronage of men like him I have little to hope for in life beyond my father's workshop. I suppose at root I am jealous of your status and the freedom it gives you. And when you changed before my eyes down in the tunnels and showed your authority, well I wondered what you were really wanting with the likes of me."

"I'm not sure if anything I can offer by way of apology will make things right. You are right, it was not my place to offer insult to you, my lord, and for that I offer you my humble apologies." He saw the other's face harden and hastened to add "Truly I mean that, it was insolent and ungrateful to speak as I did and unfair to you." He wondered if he dared go on, but he had already lost the other's trust, so he could hardly make it worse. "You said that you no longer trust me. It is your right as a nobleman to rebuke me, forgive me if I say that I could say the same of you. I tried my best to support you, to open up to you, to follow where you led, because I trusted you. But how am I to trust someone who confides nothing of himself to me, who leads me into things beyond my humble beginnings and expects me to understand without explanation? I felt out of my depth and panicked, that's the truth of it. I'm sorry, truly, to have caused offence."

Edwin made as though to go, he feared that there was no going back to the friendship that it seemed Airich had truly wanted and he had now destroyed in his foolishness.

"What is it you want to know?" Airich stopped Edwin with his question. "Ask me. I'll admit that when we first met, I was trying to not call attention to myself, and I misdirected you as I would have misdirected any passing stranger. But since that time, I've not tried to hide anything. At least, not anything that isn't highly personal."

Edwin turned in the doorframe. Airch stared straight ahead, ready to answer Edwin's questions. He asked the one that had bothered him. "What made you want to stop being Deryni? Is there something wrong with you?"

Airich looked down at his hands, and inspected a fingernail. "I have a malady I have no name for. The truth is that it was caused by a spell that went wrong, and it's slowly driving me to madness. I've been trying to find a cure for it for years, and that's what brought me to Grecotha in the first place. Some of my research had led me to believe that ridding myself of my Deryni blood would cure it, but on advice from my confessor, I am no longer seeking that solution. The symptoms don't bother me so much when I don't use my Deryni abilities.

"There. You now know more about my condition than any man alive, other than my priest."

Edwin thought he had felt bad before, now it felt as though in his own anger he had pressed on a wound in the other he had not even known existed. He supposed he was being offered a sign that Airich was prepared to trust him but he did not know what the latter wanted of him. When nothing further was said he ventured,

"I'm honoured by your trust, my lord. Is there anything I can do to make amends or is it best that I seek new lodgings. I have other contacts here in the town who could doubtless find me another safe place. Or maybe I should just go back to Culdi and stop meddling in things beyond me."

"The Bishop needs you here in Grecotha," Airich said, "and you're most useful as a member of Elspeth's company. I've heard you speak, and your oratory is making a difference to the people of this city. I also know that it takes a strong man to apologize, and I appreciate your words and acknowledge your strength.

"And you're right. I want to be treated like any other man, but the fact is that even though I'm but a landless knight, I've been raised to a position that gives me both privilege and responsibility. And I can't forget that other men will look upon my suggestions as commands, because the cost of refusal is far too high for them to risk."

Airich chuckled. "I prefer the way it works back home. No one gives a horse's tail feathers about who's born to which station. We're Derry, and we all know we're all a bunch of highland clods."

Before Edwin could stop himself he interrupted "If you are speaking of clods, you should try coming from Culdi!"

Airich laughed. "Culdi is beautiful, though. When Bronwyn died, I was tasked with searching the hills..." He stopped himself suddenly, his expression troubled. "The mountains, especially, are lovely..." He looked up at Edwin. "Who rules there now? Is it Jared or Duncan or Dhugal?" He shook his head then and rubbed his temple. "Nevermind, it's not important. I feel a headache coming on. I can usually control them with meditation if I catch it early enough."

"Then I will leave you to meditate in peace, my lo—Airich." Edwin said.

[Jerusha]

This was a collaboration with Bynw.

The contact could not have come at a worse moment.  Jimmy was in mid-sentence fabricating a story of his past for Philip as they dined together at the Twisted Noose.  He stopped and took a long drink from his mug of ale. 

"Sorry," he said apologetically to Philip.  "Throat's dry."

Not now, Iain sent to the voice in his head.

We need to speak at once, within the hour would be best.  The matter is most urgent.

Contact me at Nones.  It's the best I can do.

Very well. The contact was immediately broken.

"Now where was I?  Ah yes, it was a veritable plague of cutpurses...."

***

Sir Iain Cameron settled into the same doorway he had vacated two hours before.  The cathedral bells were just striking Nones as he positioned himself so he could observe anyone approaching and opened his mind to the call.

I will come directly to the point.

Not your usual style, Master Feyd.  Normally Iain would have expected an opening skirmish, the usual exchange of sharp barbs of wit.

We have no time for pleasantries, the Master of the Black Order of Death replied.  My spy within the Pretender King's camp has discovered the Wilimites in Grecotha are backed by the Custodic Church.

Impressive, but not exactly surprising, Iain acknowledged.

The Wilimites plan to burn the entire city of Grecotha.  And they are very serious about it.  Lock, stock and university library. They have the support of the Custodic Church.

Sweet Jesu!  Iain wasn't shocked by much, but Feyd's words had accomplished it this time.  Iain was sure he felt the man smirk.

I need you in Grecotha immediately to stop this, or at least keep the library from burning.  Our people cannot afford that loss of knowledge.  You are not mine to command, but I'm sure your King would understand the urgency of this.  You must come at once.

Feyd was not normally a man to beg, and Iain didn't push it.  How much time do I have? Iain asked.

None.  The burning is imminent; it could in days if we are lucky; otherwise it could be hours.

Iain thought for a moment, weighing his options.  There were no options.  He knew Feyd spoke the truth.

I am already in Grecotha, Master Feyd.

Good, Sir Iain. So am I.

[Marc_du_Temple]

After handing Gwendolyn back to the Dean's men and her nurse, Elspeth, Amy, Bede and Muirea headed home beneath a sinking sun. The infirmarian and her raven haired pupil walked ahead, while the Mearans lagged some yards behind. Their conversation was intermittent, only occasionally breaking the peace they both needed after the earlier events of the day. Muirea spoke first. "Do ye make a habit of saving helpless lassies? I never noticed before."

Neither had Bede. He thought a moment. "I suppose I do. But no two lasses are the same, ye know? Neither can be a man's feelings on the matter."

"The matter in question bein' women?" Muirea asked.

Bede felt as if he was walking into an ambush. Are Kelson's rotters about? He kept his voice low. "Would it na be strange if I fought for who I did in the war with a wedding on my mind?"

"Is that na exactly what ye did?" was her retort, which the other women resolutely pretended not to hear. Seemingly, he was not the only one whose thoughts could wander to her cousin.

"Well, yeah, but not to Sidana. Don't ye see I mean that a man can fight for a woman without loving her?" She said nothing, but her demeanor changed until he became wary of a second black eye. ((Does Bede Perceive how he has offended the girl? 2d6: 5 + 3)) He took a moment to gather his thoughts as they entered the tunnels leading to their hideout. In the candlelight, he noticed how much like the fire of a hearth she seemed when thus illuminated, then shook his head to refocus himself on the women he was hired to protect further down the tunnel. He spoke slowly, letting Muirea dwell on every word as she needed to. "Listen: it's na like I dinna care for ye. I was speaking of na lovin' Gwendolyn, of course. But ye understand my situation, yeah? May the saints and angels prevent it, but if I had to fight for yer wellbein' every day, I would. Truly ..."

"May the saints and angels prevent it," she repeated under the cellar door, waiting for him to lift it so she could enter the house after the previous pair. "Because I could'na see ye maimed any more than ye are. Ye daft stag." She pulled him off the cellar steps and into an embrace, causing the door to shut loudly enough to send rats scurrying.

((Bede hug Strength 3d6 6 + 2 + 1)) He responded with neither fear nor surprise, lifting her off of her feet for a moment. "If I am a stag, then ye are the hardiest doe in the Eleven Kingdoms." What did surprise him was how the embrace felt, not physically, but in his very being. Lingering Deryniness from the ritual? He could not quite fathom it. But she could. They said nothing further to each other, parting ways in the house. On the way to the men's quarters, Bede enountered Amy and acknowledged her with a sincere bow.

"You handled that well, Master Archer," she said approvingly.

"Handled what?" he threw on a puzzled look, wishing to discuss nothing. "Excuse me, mistress, but I am bloody exhausted by a bloody day. May the evening be kind to ye, and knock if ye need me or someone else." With her nod, he continued on his way. He intended to sleep and knew that no interruption or activity from the other men would stir him. Yet he would not sleep until night had truly come.

[Nezz]

((I'm sure you all will be stunned to hear that this is a collaboration between Laurna and myself. You're not stunned? I guess I'm too predictable.))

Airich had done his meditation and had just finished another round of observing Pietre de Guerra—enjoying a round of drinks with his cronies down at the Drunken Parchment—when Amy knocked at his door.

"I need an escort back to the infirmary. Can I count on you?" she asked him.

"Absolutely." He arose from his cot and stretched. "What's at the infirmary?"

"Elspeth left her lancets behind and asked me to fetch them."

Airich brought Amy's cloak and set it around her shoulders, and the two of them slipped out the cellar door, both of them with senses alert and minds aware. Airich led them first to the stables, where they could check on their horses and make sure no one was following them. From there, they made their way to the infirmary. The novice, Aidan, was working in the room and nodded to them when they walked in. 

"You're not usually here so late in the day, are you?" Amy asked the young man.

"Nae, mum, but I'm preparing for the regular physicians' return. We expect Master Bonhom's return tomorrow, and Master Steadman the day after. I'm a'feared ye'll not have the infirmary to yourselves any longer, what with term beginning on Monday. If Mistress Elspeth comes in tomorrow before Master Bonhom arrives, she may find she has a student or two requesting aid. Although they would be shocked to find a woman working here."

"Indeed. Do you think Master Bonhom would welcome the skills of our Mistress Elspeth? Or would it be better to have her stay clear of the Infirmary from here on?"

"I can not answer how Master Bonhom would react, but I believe that if Canon Damian recommends her to him, she will not be unwelcome here in the future. But if I do not have the room ready for his arrival, then we will all be unwelcome here."

"Then we best not bother you. Can we help you?" Airich asked. "Tell us what needs doing?"

"Nae, m'lord, I'm nearly finished here. You can go about your business, and I'll be out from underfoot in no time." True to his word, Aidan finished moving items into a cupboard and with only a nod toward the two, he returned to the office.

Amy turned to Airich. "If you'd like to rest or meditate while I search for Elspeth's lancets, hopefully I won't take too long."

"Of course, I just need to get some water." Airich went to the sluice room and returned with a cloth that wasn't quite dripping. He wrapped it around his left hand and settled on one of the beds in his usual cross-legged position that Amy recognized as his pose for meditation or magic. And if it were magic, he would likely tell her about it when he was finished.

Amy began searching for Elspeth's lancet case. It took her longer than she'd expected; she finally found it under the farthest bed, likely kicked there accidentally by one of the dean's house guards. By the time she raised the leather case triumphantly, the novice had disappeared, but Airich still sat on the bed, having hardly moved.

Amy sat herself on the bed and scooted next to him, then rested her head against his shoulder. It felt nice. After a minute or two, Airich stirred, then put his arm around her shoulder.

"Airich?" she said.

"Yes?"

"You're getting my dress wet."

"Oh, sorry!" He pulled his cloth-wrapped hand back and dropped the still-damp rag off to his right side. He pulled her into a full embrace, which she happily returned. He then proceeded to dry her sleeve with a hand over her arm.

"Don't waste your powers on me," Amy laughed when she realized what he was doing. "My dress will dry. You need to save your strength for important things, like whatever it is you were just doing. I don't want you suffering more headaches on my account."

"I would gladly suffer far more than a mere headache to make you smile," he said, which did indeed make her smile. "And seeing your smile is the entire point of doing deep magics like I was just doing. Otherwise, I wouldn't bother."

"What were you doing?" She snuggled up against him again. "What kind of deep magics are you calling upon?"

"Clouds."

Amy's eyebrows pulled in. "Clouds?"

"Aye. I'm calling up clouds. Filling them with rain. I started last night. So if the Willimites succeed in their plan of setting Grecotha on fire, we can summon a downpour and keep the city from total devastation. It wouldn't keep the library from being destroyed, but it would save lives, I think." He frowned. "Maybe I need to make the clouds look more threatening. That might convince the Willimites to stay their plan for another day or two, and that would give the King time to send help and stop the Willimites' plans altogether."

"Is the King sending help?"

"I hope so. I told Trevor about their plan yesterday—Trevor's my brother, by the way... and my priest. I'd assumed Trevor would notify someone higher up, and I'm honestly a little surprised no one has gotten back to me about it yet. But I'll ask Trevor about it when he contacts me." Airich looked down at Amy. "I'd like you to meet him, if you're willing."

"Of course I would be willing. I'd be honored," Amy said. "Show me an image of your brother Trevor. I saw some fleeting images of your brothers before, but I do not know which one is Trevor."  Amy placed one arm around the Deryni knight's shoulders, with fingers resting lightly against the neck edge of his embroidered shirt. She was glad to see him wearing his shirt again. Its protective prayers were like a warm glow.

When Airich took her other hand, she saw an image of a man wearing a cassock, with a small tonsure crowning short brown curls. Same eyes and laughing grin as Airich, but showing a bit more maturity.

"I expect to receive his call within the hour," Airich said. "While we wait, could I tell you something about myself? If we continue down the path we'd discussed this morning, I think it's only fair that you know about it. It's about why I get the headaches and nightmares."

"Oh, is it about the dam and the reservoir?" Amy perked up.

"Aye. And if this scares you, then I wouldn't blame you if you need to keep your distance from me." He kept his Shields lowered so she could sense the truth of his words.

Airich took a deep breath and proceeded to tell her his story. How his father had fallen ill just before the Mearan rebellion a few years earlier, causing Airich to be left in charge of the Earldom while his brothers and nearly all the men in Derry rushed to Rhemuth to aid in the war. How his father's illness had suddenly grown far worse, and in the hour that the earl was certain to die, Airich had cast that ill-fated spell. How his father did not die, but lived and cursed him for what Airich had done, but mercifully retained no memory of the event later. And how, as his father recovered, Airich—with no one to guide him through this disastrous backlash of magic—grew more ill, himself.

"For the first few weeks, I didn't even know who I was," Airich shared with Amy. "I walked around in a daze, seeing everything through a strange double-lens of his thoughts overlapping my own. I'd be with my brothers, both of whom are more than a decade older than I am, and I would see them as babies and children, and visualize events they'd experienced long before I was born. And I didn't dare tell anyone about what happened because I was too ashamed. I put up my Shields as tight as I could and refused to let anyone in, to make sure no one found out.

"Even then, I had strong Shields. No one could get through them, not unless several people joined in Rapport forced them down together. And that's not something you want to do to someone you love." Airich paused and pursed his lips. "In hindsight, I suppose that would have been the kindest thing, though."

"Is that when you figured out that using your powers made your symptoms worse?" Amy asked.

"Not right away," Airich said. "At first, it was just plain guilt that made me stop using them: I'd obviously proved that I was not worthy of the gift of being Deryni. And I thought that the only way to atone for my sin would be to sacrifice the powers that, up until that time, I'd spent my life honing. Have you ever heard of the Cult of Revan?"

"I can't say that I have."

"Revan was a man who lived some two-hundred fifty years ago, and his talent was to wash away the sins of the Deryni by cleansing their blood of the "Deryni taint." A man might go into the waters as a Deryni, be baptized by Revan, and come out of the water a full-blooded Human. Not a trace of Deryni power within him. I had thought at the time that I would do anything to wash away the sins I'd committed from having Deryni blood."

This was the point in his narrative that Airich had to hide the fact that he was quite sure he now knew how that had been accomplished, and that he was equally sure of who could perform this very deed. He skipped ahead.

"I soon discovered—once the memories started making more sense—that my father also had a certain amount of anger towards Deryni. Now, he had a good reason to be angry: certain Deryni had abused him terribly. But it was even his Deryni friends, I eventually realized, who he was angry at: friends and lovers who had gone into his mind and manipulated him without a by-your-leave, as if he were no more than a pet or child. Oh, he'd long since come to terms with it all and put it behind him, but a small piece of that anger remained, like a tiny sliver in the pad of your finger.

"So I set about to prove to my father that I was not like them. In a family full of Deryni, I meant for him to know that, of all of them, I could live my life as a Human, just as he'd always done. He could trust me to never treat him as someone lesser than me, just because I was born with certain abilities that he didn't have.

"It was this attitude which convinced me to befriend some of the Willimites in Coroth and Derry. Mind you, these were not men set on murder; they just wanted a voice among the aristocracy pointing out some of the past Deryni abuses and seeking to make sure such things never happened again."

"So why did all this make you think that being cleansed of your Deryni blood would help you with the headaches and nightmares?" Amy asked.

"Experience and research," Airich said. "I'd decided to give up my powers, but that's so much easier to say than to do. I loved doing magic, and it was difficult to give up. And that's when I discovered that using my powers was linked with the symptoms getting worse.

"And early this year, I was in Rhemuth with my family during the Feast of Epiphany, and while at the schola library, I ran across an old passage by Owen of Mann. He very clearly states that Deryn-created ailments can be resolved by cleansing the blood of the Deryni taint. Obviously a reference to Master Revan."

"So between the guilt and the anger and the hope for redemption and the hope for a cure, you saw no reason to not try to "cleanse" your Deryni blood," Amy mused. "So many good reasons to do something you would obviously find painful."

"Exactly. This past week has been a blessing and a curse, because my attempts to aid in this war with the Willimites has brought out the need to use my gifts as I haven't in years, but the necessity of using those gifts is shredding my sanity." Airich smiled sadly at Amy. "I'm afraid the burden of carrying decades of another man's memories is going to cost me dearly, sooner rather than later. Not unless I can get help from someone who knows the procedure and can figure out what I'm doing wrong."

"Do you know anyone like that?"

"I do," Airich confirmed. He debated within himself whether or not to tell her that it was the father of her son that he would be seeking out once the Grecotha Willimite crisis was over. He decided against it for now. "He's a healer I know well, and trained in Deryni-specific ailments. This is wonderful for me, since I can't ask just any healer to help me. I simply know too much."

"What do you mean?" Amy said.

"Any healer who works on me with this will need full access to anything in my head. So it needs to be someone that I trust implicitly. Second of all,  I know a great deal of sensitive information from the King's privy councils, so it would have to be someone who I can allow access to that knowledge."

Amy's eyes grew big. "Do you really have that much confidential information?"

"Oh, aye. Over forty years' worth. Back at the beginning of King Kelson's reign, his very first act was to install my father as a member of his council. So while I'm sure there are meetings he didn't attend, and plenty of the things discussed in council are no longer secret, I still have a lot of knowledge that I'm sure His Majesty would not want his enemies to discover."

Amy settled against him again. "It's all so much of a burden for one man to carry."

"Aye," Airich agreed. "I thank God that I contacted Trevor when I did. I was truly beginning to think that all was lost." He smiled. "You were there that night. With my foolish idea to cut the Deryni out of myself." It was such an incomprehensible idea, he couldn't imagine now why he'd thought such a thing was possible. But such had been the depths of his despair that night, coming in fresh from another one of Father's nightmares. "Trevor convinced me to give up my attempts to rid myself of my powers. It was an answer I'd needed desperately, from a source I could trust absolutely. And Trevor is on my side." Airich grimaced before going on "He pointed out to me how much my isolation hurt my family. I'd never even thought about it before, but he was right. I hurt all of them."

"But you've been absolved, haven't you?" Amy asked. It was so nice listening to him talk freely, without feeling like she needed to drag the words out of him. "You're doing what you need to do to deserve your absolution? Like what you said about that healing hymn?"

"Yes, that's a start," Airich said. "I hope tonight he'll be inspired to tell me how to control the symptoms better, since he told me that the magic was my calling." He squeezed her shoulder tighter. "I admit, that's part of why I was hoping you'd help me, to make sure I have the strength to stay in the call as long as necessary. But I could do that while you were unconscious, and I want you here and aware and able to participate. I'm not just using you for your warm body," he finished with a smile and another little squeeze.

"Oh?" She leaned back with a false affronted look, and slapped him on the shoulder. "You won't get your absolution thinking that way," she claimed with a giggle. When he bowed his apology, she leaned back into his shoulder.

He was quiet for a few moments before he spoke again. "That's about it, though. My sad life. And all the broken pieces of me. Far more than you wanted to know."

She heard the humor in his voice, but behind that, she felt the fear that she might reject him. She rose to her knees, facing him, and took his face in her hands and kissed him sweetly, sharing with him her complete acceptance of him and his past.

A new presence entered Airich's head, and Amy jumped at this sensation. "What was that?"

"That's Trevor," Airich said. "Just relax and stay in Rapport with me. If there's anything Trevor needs to talk to me about privately, I'll help you slip out. But I don't think that's likely."

Amy curled up against Airich's side again, and her tiny fish self slipped itself in an unobtrusive place near the back of his mind. Airich opened his Shields to greet his brother.

[Laurna]

((Dear readers here is a continuation of Nezz and I working together to make a scene happen))

Trevor wasn't alone, either.

Hello Airich, how are you today?

I'm well enough. Airich sensed another person with Trevor, someone he should know well. Who's with you?

A cheery mental voice entered the link in full. Hullo Baby Brother, I'm quite miffed you didn't come to see me when you came through Rhemuth this summer.

Charity!

Amy felt the honest delight emanating from Airich at the presence of this woman, obviously his sister. And she herself felt drawn to this woman and her joyous nature that came through the Rapport.

Trevor's not the only one who brought a visitor, Charity said.

Yes, this is Amy. She is a very dear friend of mine. It pleased Amy that Airich didn't hide the emotion behind his words, and let his siblings know exactly what he meant by a "dear friend."

Uncertain if her words would pass through the rapport or only her emotions, Amy tried both; I am pleased to make the acquaintance of Sir Airich's siblings. And then sent a warm emotion of greeting. Then it occurred to her that these people were nobility, and she was wondering how in her little minnow form she could curtsey.

Charity, like a songbird, trilled; No need of that among family and friends. And with that, Amy felt a welcoming that was instantly as warm as one Elspeth would give her. Amy's nerves eased, and she nestled in to this Rapport.

Trevor, I need to let you know what we've learned about some of the Willimite leaders here, but first, do you know if the king has sent any backup to Grecotha yet?

The King says he is making plans, and that Grecotha should no longer be your concern. His Majesty is recalling you, he wants to see you in Rhemuth as soon as we can arrange it.

Amy involuntarily gasped and Airich said, What?

We're working on getting you out of Grecotha. We know of the existence of a portal, and we'll have directions to it by morning and can send them to you. Can you get yourself ready by then? Arrange care for your horse until we can come back for him?

Amy could feel Airich floundering for words, thoroughly taken aback by this news. Amy herself was more than a little stunned to realize that King Kelson actually knew this man, her own handsome Deryni knight, well enough to summon him directly.

The King knows what's going on here in Grecotha, doesn't he? He is aware that the Willimites are planning to torch the place soon?

Yes, he knows, I told him myself. It's no longer your burden.

But it has become my burden, very deeply so.... Who... who is he sending to replace me? Does he know that Bishop Bernard doesn't have any other Deryni working for him? I would have to show this replacement the depths to which the Willimites have entrenched themselves here and the danger that weighs heavily over the whole city. Airich mentally paused then added, And my friends... I can not leave...

Brother, you are in danger, and you must get out of there. This was Charity pleading for the safety of the family, Mother and father have been so worried about you.

Why? Did you tell them where I was? It is for the future of our family and families like ours that I can not leave, what we need is more help.

Father Trevor's regained control of the Rapport. It is the King's will that you report the events you know directly to him. We just have to get you out of Grecotha; if it makes you feel better, we can get Mistress Amy and your friends out with you, too.

There was an intake of breath from Amy that only Airich heard, she would not interrupt a noble priest's words, but her thoughts ran parallel to his own: Elspeth wouldn't leave Grecotha; she had a patient here and was already invested in the welfare of the city. Therefore, Bede would stay, although Airich thought perhaps he might send Muirea away. Edwin loved the city too well. And Amy... Amy was loyal. She would never leave Elspeth. He would be the only one running to safety, confirming Edwin's low opinion of him.

Airich stammered a little, trying to find a delay, any delay, yet knowing one could not refuse the King's command. Even with a good portal– I found an old disused one–I can not portal from Grecotha. Rhemuth is the closest portal that I know of, and that's too far away for a single jump. I have never been to Caerrorrie, to your See, or Arx Fidei or even Valoret. The Derry portals are too distant for me to make in a single jump, and no one bothered to show me the Lendour portal the few times I have been there. I recall Seamus said I was too young. Baring the use of Portals, I could attempt to ride through the Willimites' blockades, but I suspect they're watching for that. They know my name, Trevor, and I fear one or two of them may have connected my face to my name. 

Do not risk the blockade. On that, we all agree. If they know your face, you are not safe there, you must get free of that place. Trevor's brotherly concern was potent through the link. Both brothers paused, absorbing the emotion, and then concentrated on solving the dilemma. It seemed Trevor was as blind about getting to Grecotha as Airich was about getting out. Airich, we are in Arx Fidei right now, just south of Valoret. I can search for someone who might know a portal in Grecotha. We think we do know someone already, but using him as a go between might be a bit tricky. Damn it, Portals are supposed to make travel easier, yet I see no way to pass on the knowledge of their signatures safely without actually learning their signatures in person.

One of the brothers here must know a Grecotha portal, Charity chimed in.

I'll have Wash talk to them to see what he can find out. Trevor answered his sister. But the name of Wash startled both persons sitting in Grecotha.

Wait, Wash is there too? Why? Airich physically blinked and looked at Amy, hoping the mention of that name didn't cause her pain.

She sat very still, hardly daring to breath and Airich feared she might pass out from lack of air. Women were known to pass out from shocking information, but surely Amy was not one of them. He, too, was holding his breath, he discovered, then forced himself to breathe, hoping that Amy too would take the hint. Apparently she did, but her hand on his wrist had grown quite tight.

Trevor continued, not knowing the consternation he was causing on the far side of his Rapport. Washburn Morgan was already involved when I reported to the King this morning. He has the contact who knows many of the portals in the Eastern part of the kingdom. If we can get that man to help us, then you will have your out. But as yet that is not a certainty. So it seems you will have to wait just a little longer there. I hope you have a place of safety?

Nowhere is safe in Grecotha. Airich frowned. Did you... tell him anything? About me? He was horrified by the idea that Trevor might have broken confidence and brought Wash in to help Airich.

He is a Healer, Airich. I told him that his presence would be welcome. And not much more.

Not much? How much is "not much?"

I told him that you were having trouble from a Death Reading of a burned victim. You didn't tell me that in confidence.

No, he hadn't mentioned that under the Seal of the Confessional. And Airich couldn't deny that he was still always unseasonably warm, and the smell of burnt flesh frequently seemed to assailed his nostrils. He wondered if Wash could help with that without discovering... No, of course Wash would figure out the rest of it. Airich wouldn't be able to hide it from a trained healer. And, well, he'd planned to go see Wash anyway. Perhaps he could be healed from his years-long malady and return to Grecotha as a whole man instead of a man lamed by old mistakes.

Will I be allowed to return after I've reported to His Majesty?

That will be for the King to decide. Since we can not get you to him tonight, it seems, can you tell me what is happening in Grecotha? And tell me how you are holding up.

I know the identities of the four remaining Willimite leaders. At least, I think these four are all of them, now that Eddard de Nore is dead. Pietre de Guerra is the son of the local magistrate; he's the University's swordmaster. I've avoided crossing paths with him, although I wear the shirt I embroidered myself. It's not as good as one of Madre's, but it serves.

What happened to the one that Madre made you?

I loaned it to a friend who can't wear armor. Other than de Guerra, there's Philip, a member of the Bishop's Purple Guard; Father Jacob, a professor here at the university; and an older man named Marcus, who has been seen around the city, but we don't know any more about him than that.

As for how I am, I am doing well enough—

"Tell him about your headaches and nightmares," Amy whispered into Airich's ear, afraid to announce such a thing in rapport with those who, to her, were yet strangers.

I've been instructed that I must tell you that I still have the headaches and nightmares, Airich said, smiling fondly at Amy. And the fatigue. Presumably you don't need to worry Madre and Da with that news. But I have been working quite a lot since you told me to abandon my plan for... Charity, I hope you'll be pleased to hear that Trevor has talked me out of my former plans for no longer being Deryni.

He didn't say anything at all about that, only that you'd called him and performed a Death Reading. He didn't say anything about headaches or nightmares. But I am pleased to hear about your other news.

"Could, do you think, the healer..." Amy was terrified to say his name aloud. "Do you think he would come here? I mean, he could help you, couldn't he?" The thought sent her nerves to shaking. What would she do if she met him again?  Better to not meet him at all, but if he could help Airich than she would not hide herself away. But...  Later, if it happened, she would face it, later. So many other immediate concerns first.

Airich formed Amy's question to Trevor hiding the concern she held. Would Wash come to Grecotha? It would be very dangerous here for any Deryni...

Too dangerous, indeed, Trevor replied. No, Wash is under king's orders, more so than most of us. He will not go to Grecotha. The king ordered me to get you out of Grecotha. Airich, this is my responsibility and I will not fail in my duty. Know that I will find you a way out of that city.

He truly didn't want to leave, not without finishing his work here, but it was so good to know that his brother had his back. He blinked back sudden tears. I'm pleased that you are here for me. Do you, perchance, have any words of wisdom for me? Some inspired knowledge of how I am to continue working for Grecotha and my king without endangering my health?

Mistress Amy, Charity, addressed her directly. I perceive that you have no small Deryni talent, if yet untrained. I would ask you to help my brother find deep sleep. I will pass you a spell, Airich knows it and can teach it to you, but it is impossible to use on one's self, so he may not have thought of it. It is one that partners often use, rather the reverse of a fatigue-banishing spell: it enhances sleep and helps regain a proper center, especially after a serious working. I wish you had a shiral crystal there, but you can do the spell without one. Charity recited a poem and had Amy repeat it. Use that and my brother should sleep easier through the night. And he will feel far better balanced in the morning. But it also means that someone would have to stand guard over the sleeper, for it is not a sleep that is easily awoken from if something were to happen in the night. So do be wary of that.

Amy repeated the spell and felt grateful that there was more that she could do for Airich than just hold him through his malady. At least this was something tangible.

Trevor added a blessing to those in Grecotha and then made an appointment for their next contact at the hour after dawn tomorrow. I hope to have more information on portals by then. He ended the Rapport.

The presence of brother and sister faded away, and both Grecotha Deryni found themselves sitting on the cot, very close to one another. Neither wanted to move, but both knew they had been in the infirmary for far too long already.

"You know Elspeth is going to break my nose when we get back," Airich said.

"After all her warnings and advice to me, she's likely to break my nose as well," Amy laughed.

"I have one more task to do after we return. I'd like to spy on our friend Pietre one more time, to make sure he's not preparing to set his bonfire tonight. Would you like to help?"

"Of course."

The two left the infirmary, arm-in-arm.

[Jerusha]

Aidan waited a full count of fifty before opening the infirmary office door wider so he could slip out. He wasn't entirely sure why he had left the door ajar so he could listen to the conversation between Sir Airich and Mistress Amy, but he had been unable to resist. Surely as a novice he should have been able to resist such temptation?

He left the infirmary and walked purposefully to one of the boarding houses often used by the foreign students at the university. Aidan avoided the few students that had begun to move in for the fall term and made his way to a storage shed behind the building. He hadn't been here since the previous term ended; in fact, he wasn't sure why he was here now, but it never occurred to him to question the need to be here.

Aidan opened the door without knocking and closed it behind him. The only light was from a window with the shutters partly opened, and he stood quietly while his eyes adjusted to the gloom. 

"What do you have to tell us?" asked a man in heavily accented Gwyneddan.

The young novice faced the three senior students ranged before him in the shed. He felt no concern as the one who had spoken came nearer to him, looking directly into his eyes. Aidan felt a sense of being captured by those eyes, but he did not question it. He knew all three of the students, yet he could not identify any of them by face or name.

Emotionlessly, he related all he had observed and heard in the infirmary and what he knew of the people involved. He named and described Edwin Scrivener of the Scrivener House of Culdi; Sir Airich O'Flynn of Derry; Mistress Elspeth Rowan, physicker of Carbury; Mistress Amy; Guardian Bede and Mistress Muirea. Not really understanding what Sir Airich was attempting to do, he described the calling up of clouds and the need for heavy rain to put out the fires that would consume Grecotha.

"Trained enough to attempt weather-working," interrupted the second student, listening to the novice closely. "Interesting. Perhaps useful."

"Continue," commanded the first student.

The young novice resumed his narrative, repeating the description of Sir Airich's affliction. He was oblivious to the sharp intake of breath from the third student as he repeated what the knight had said about needing a healer he trusted implicitly due to his knowledge of over forty years worth of sensitive information from the King's privy councils. Information the King would not want his enemies to discover.

"Sir Airich O'Flynn could indeed be useful to us," the third student said.   

"A discussion for later," the first student said curtly. "Continue," he said again to Aidan.

"Sir Airich and Mistress Amy sat close together for a long time after that. It almost seemed as if they were speaking to someone else, but I heard no words.  At times they seemed quite disconcerted; sometimes she gripped his arm. But they were laughing when they left, walking arm in arm." 

The student standing before Aidan finally turned his gaze from the young novice. "You may go now."

Aidan nodded and turned to go without a further word. He would return to Canon Damian's office to report that all was in readiness in the infirmary for the return of Master Bonhom and Master Steadman. Novice Aidan McLain would have no memory of his journey to the shed or his conversation with the men inside it.

He never did.

[Nezz]

September 12, 1168
Canon Damian's office
Grecotha
early morning

The next morning's sun hid behind the tall gray clouds of early autumn. Elspeth stood in Canon Damian's office, backed by nearly all of the investigator team. All but Bede had awakened before dawn to be at the Canon's office when he first arrived, scaring the little novice who worked as Canon Damian's assistant. But the opportunity had arisen to save some of the library's most precious documents, and they had to act quickly.

"It's the only way to ensure they're protected from a fire, if we can not prevent it, Father," Elspeth explained. "When Sir Airich leaves for Rhemuth later today, he and his brother can carry these documents with them and bring them to the curators of the library at the schola. And anything else that can't be replaced needs to be placed into your deepest locked stone vaults, where no one else has access to them."

"Ah, well, it's not that I don't trust Sir Airich, but..." Canon Damian looked uncomfortable, "Sister Helena has been trying to convince me to donate our copy of Codex Derynianus with illuminated notes by Sister Suse Wernher to the schola library. I fear that if it ends up in her hands, I may never see it again."

"Father, I vow I would place the manuscripts into Archbishop Duncan's hands directly," Airich said. "I don't think even Sister Helena could talk him into giving her your documents."

"You're right, of course, and I shouldn't imply that Sister Helena would keep our manuscript in her collection permanently; it's not a charitable thought." He gestured towards the novice. "Aidan, I need a wax tablet and stylus." He glanced back up and Elspeth. "I'll make a list for Dean Nathanial and have Aidan bring it to him."

"No need to send the young man," Elspeth said. "We're heading that direction anyway, I need to check on his niece, Lady Gwendolyn, to make sure she's healing properly."

"'tis nae bother, Mistress," Aidan piped up, "I like ta gang oot ta see th'city the morn."

"You like to pester Master Pan for fresh sweetmeats, you mean," Damian said, smiling fondly.

Aidan ducked his head in embarrassment, then glanced up at Elspeth and Airich. "Will ye be biding at the Dean's hoose a bit while?"

"However long it takes to check on Lady Gwendolyn's progress and get the manuscripts from the dean," Elspeth replied.

"Get along then," the Canon said. "I'll have the boy out to you before long."

When they got out into the courtyard, Airich turned to Elspeth. "With your permission, I have one other task I'd like to see to before I have to leave Grecotha. I can meet you at the dean's residence afterward, or back at the safehouse if my errand takes too long."

"As if I would tell you no," Elspeth retorted. "And will you be telling us about this mission of yours?"

"If it's successful, I will," Airich replied with an impish grin, the kind she'd seen him occasionally flash at Amy. The kind that made most girls go weak in the knees.

Elspeth slapped his chest with the back of her hand. "Get you gone, boy, before I send you back to the safe house to wash the mistress' dirty dishes as punishment for sassing me." She turned her back on him and hooked her arm through Amy's. "Come, Amaryllis, let us pay a visit to our new friend. If she's doing well, perhaps she will share some of her herbal knowledge with us. I came prepared with a wax tablet of my own."

[Jerusha]

Nezz graciously started this off for me and then I carried on.

With only one backward glance at Airich, Amy fell into step with her friend. Elspeth found herself smiling at the knight's playful exchange, and unexpectedly pleased that she was not completely immune to the charms of a man. Heaven only knew that few men dared look her in the eye, let alone smile at her or dally with her.

She protected her heart with keen intelligence and a sharp tongue, one that warned men away from her before they had the chance to recoil in terror or go running to the local magistrate. So far, they had not let her down.

"Something amuses you, Speth?" Amy asked as they walked. 

"Just your young knight, Ams."

"Oh, he's not my...." Amy said quickly.

Elspeth gave her a sharp look. "In spite of my sage advice to be cautious, I suspect he is."

Amy sighed. "Life just seems to happen."

"It does seem to," the physicker responded dryly. 

"I feel happier than I think I ever have before!" Amy burst out and then looked flustered as one or two passersby on the street gave her a curious look. Elspeth pulled her hood a little farther forward.

"Sorry," Amy muttered contritely.

"He may have a long road ahead of him, before he is himself again."

"I know, but I could never abandon him." Amy suddenly stopped. "Speth, I could never abandon you either!"

"Growing in new directions is not abandonment. Far from it!" Elspeth gave her friend's arm a comforting squeeze. "If the years you have spent working with me help you along this new path, I am well content."

"Could you not find a new path as well?" Amy asked, tears threatening at the corners of her eyes.

"I think it's a little late for that," Elspeth said with a slight shake of her head.  "I am content with my work, and finding the talicil will allow me to prevent many deaths, God willing.  Now, that should be the Dean's house ahead," she added briskly.

Amy nodded, and matched the older woman's stride. Too often, life was not entirely fair.

[Marc_du_Temple]

In The Kings Arms, a young Mearan was trying to drown his sorrows. With one hand he gripped his flagon, and in the other: the earring that had sat in his ear for four years. He was making a mess of it, bending and crushing it between bloodied fingers, with no plans of stopping. Not before he could no longer read the letter in front of him.

Bede,

You asked me to run to find you should our land, Meara, lose the war we started, all those years ago. I was but a simple girl, then. Foolish, and easily tired. What you asked for, you did not wait long enough to see, and for that I am sorry. By the time I reached the end of the River Laas, you were nowhere to be found. When rumors returned to me of your stubborn rebellion, I felt so cold. But that was four years ago. I have since taken a neighbor for a husband, and my bairns are his. Your fate is your own. Be free of me, as I am free of you.

-Winnifred

[revanne]

Edwin became increasingly nervous as they approached the Dean's house, Not only had he made the world's fool of himself in front of Gwendolyn but his previous encounters with her uncle had set an unpromising precedent to say the least. Why on earth he could expect the Dean to take him seriously was more than he could imagine.

He had hoped that Airich would be the one to approach the Dean but that hope had been thwarted when early that morning Airich had explained his plan that he would approach the Bishop while Edwin managed the conversation with the Dean. Airich had been a little tentative as though worried that Edwin would accuse him again of high-handedness, and Edwin for his part had not wanted to argue lest he appeared difficult. Edwin had therefore acquiesced, appearing as willing as he could manage, but had brooded on it while breaking his fast though he had barely managed to choke down any bread. Plucking up all his courage he had drawn Airich aside as they left the room as deferentially as he could manage.

"My Lord", he whispered urgently.

Airich's expression hardened and he all but snapped out "Oh for heaven's sake, man, don't start all this again." and went to move on.

Edwin put out his hand and as firmly as he dared held onto the other's arm. "I'm sorry, I mean no offence but it is your nobility that I need to help me now. You know how to speak to these men of rank, I have no idea given that I'm a jumped up common man from the back of beyond. I have only met the Dean in person three times, the last time he told me to mind my own business. The other two times were even worse. I had been sent to him to be disciplined for brawling and how do you look a man in the face when he has applied a birch to your backside.

Airich couldn't stop a grin, "You think that I haven't been in the same position with some of the highest nobility in the land. You can't be a brat running around in Coroth castle, as I did when Da was there, without getting tanned from time to time." Airich removed Edwin's arm from his but only so he could put his own hand on Edwin's shoulder in reassurance. "You can do this, believe me. You have a love of learning beyond that of any of us, other than Elspeth, and you love this university more than any of us. Don't let yourself think of who you are speaking to, just let that passion motivate you. You have a ready tongue on you when you let it loose, as I know well." But he grinned again to take the sting from his words and this time Edwin grinned back.

Edwin made himself remember Airich's words, and even more the confidence which the other had expressed. He had to do this, or slink back to Culdi with his tail between his legs.

[Nezz]

September 12, 1168
Purple Guard headquarters
Grecotha
morning

Airch watched them go, wishing he could call back to Amy and ask her to join him, for he was deeply afraid that their time together was growing short. He had no understanding behind why the King would wish to speak with him personally, and despite Trevor's protestations of silence on the matter, Airich could not help but wonder if Kelson had somehow discovered his secret. Assaulting a peer and one of the King's chief councillors was not a matter to be taken lightly; Airich would consider himself lucky if he were merely exiled quietly to the far reaches of Torenth, in the cold wastes of Nordmarcke.

Worse than the punishment, however, would be having to face his father, who would finally know the extent of his youngest son's betrayal of him. Airich had no idea how badly his father would take this news.

Don't be daft, boy, you know exactly how well I'd take it.

Aye, Da, I do know. You'd never forgive me.

I think I would eventually. But not right away.

So even though Airich's life as he knew it might be over by the end of the day, and he wanted nothing more than to hide away and spend his last remaining hours with Amy, encircled in Deep Rapport, he refrained from calling her to him. He was still a knight of the realm, and loyal unto death, and the part of his errand that he hadn't mentioned to Edwin would bring him into contact with a dangerous man. He didn't want to bring Amy to this man's notice.

Airich hurried to the part of the Bishop's residence that housed the Purple Guard, but stayed outside and out of sight, scanning for persons within. He discovered what he needed to know, then adjusted his plan accordingly. He pulled his family ring from the cord around his neck he kept it on and set it on his forefinger, where it itched and irritated his mind as all rings did. He left his Shields open just enough to detect lies and strong emotions. Then he entered.

He found Lieutenant Philip Saxon in an open-doored office on the main floor, talking with another member of the Purple Guard who Airich didn't recognize. Perfect. "Good morning, gentlemen. I'm looking for Captain Hawthorne, is he about?"

"Not just at the moment, Sir," Philip answered briskly. "But you're welcome to wait for him here. I don't expect he'll be too long."

And there was the first lie: although Hawthorne wasn't here, Philip was not expecting him. So Philip had something in mind. Possibly he was only interested in discovering what these investigators knew. And that suited Airich well enough.

"Thank you... Philip, isn't it? I think I'll do that. Been on my feet for hours already this morning, I could use a short rest." Airich pulled off his cloak. He looked at Philip's fellow. "I don't think I've seen you around here." One of Philip's Willimites? Or simply a new member of the guard?

"Jimmy Taylor," The man said, coming to attention in that over-enthusiastic manner of the new man looking to impress. If this man was a Willimite spy, he was very convincing.

"Good to meet you, Jimmy," Airich said, clasping the man's hand, making sure that Philip could see his ring as he did so. "Sir Airich O'Flynn, House Derry." Airich thought he felt the faintest twinge of surprise from one of the men, but it was gone so quickly, he might have imagined it. Still, he thought it had had the effect Airich had hoped for.

Philip carried himself in a manner that suggested his entire life had been spent as a fighting man, and a good one at that. His respect would be hard to win, and an upstart young knight would not be someone this man would pay heed to. Which was why Airich had set aside his armor today, to de-emphasize his own accomplishments. But he would bet that a man such as Philip had heard of his father, and while that wouldn't be enough for Airich to gain the respect of this man, it should be enough to gain his attention.

He sat on the bench, as if resting after several hours of work, while the other two continued with their conversation. When there came a lull in the talking, Airich said, "That sermon the Bishop gave the other morning... that was quite the thing, wasn't it?"

A brief, powerful surge of some emotion flared briefly from Philip before tamping down. It was a curious mental response, and Airich couldn't figure out what it meant: too many feelings were mixed into it. Outwardly, Philip responded by glancing in Airich's direction and saying, "Indeed."

"I didn't hear his sermon," Jimmy said. "What did he say that was noteworthy?"

Philip gave Jimmy an abbreviated version of the sermon while Airich considered what to say next. Philip, as with any member of the Purple Guard, would know of Airich's responsibility as a Willimite investigator. But he wouldn't know that Airich knew that he was a Willimite leader. And Airich hoped to keep it that way.

"I was impressed that he'd be so forthright about the Willimites' actions," Airich added when Philip had finished. "But I was especially surprised when he announced de Nore's death. I worried the Bishop might blame me for that, but I've heard nothing."

Another strong, mixed reaction from Philip: disgust, hatred, and guilt. The first two weren't surprising, considering how de Nore's fellow leaders had spoken of him. But the guilt... that was interesting. Based on Philip's words during the scrying, Airich had been fairly certain that Philip did indeed blame him for Eddard's death, whether it was because he'd choked on his blood or simple blood loss itself. But that feeling of guilt implied... something else.

"You weren't there when he died, were you?" Airich asked Philip. "Could you tell what killed him?"

"I was one of those with him when the Devil dragged his soul to hell," Philip said, "and there is no question in my mind that his death was a direct result of his misdeeds."

"It was no great pleasure pulling his body off the wall, nor cutting it into pieces either, let me tell you," Jimmy added.

"De Nore is dead and his secrets with him," Philip said, glaring at Jimmy. Jimmy looked out the window, suddenly fascinated by a spider on the sill. Airich noted that he might want to speak to Jimmy sometime soon without his superior officer present. "Leave him be unless you want to turn him into a martyr with your talk."

"There hasn't been any further Willimite activity lately, has there?" Airich asked, "Other than the kidnapping of Lady Gwendolyn?"

"It's been quiet," Philip said.

"What about the incident with Widow Hartford?" Jimmy pointed out helpfully.

"I had heard about that one." Airich noted the general irritation Philip radiated, but no outright anger. "Apparently the people of Grecotha won't allow the Willimites to bully old women."

"Jimmy, perhaps you'd like to check on Captain Hawthorne's whereabouts," Philip said. Jimmy was out the door before Philip could even finish the sentence. Airich watched him leave.

"Do you think about what will happen if we are unable to do our jobs?" Airich asked Philip.

"I do my job every day," Philip pointed out.

"Of course, I meant no disrespect," Airich corrected himself. "I meant..." If there was any chance that Philip could be talked away from this destruction the Willimites had planned, Airich hoped to use it. "I think of the man de Nore killed, Leopold, and how he died. It was... horrible. And then I look out onto the city, and see the plans the Willimites have for the people of Grecotha, Human and Deryni alike, and the very idea that we might fail to save them from the same fate... it sickens me."

"Begging your pardon, Sir," Philp said, "but I don't believe anything like that is going to happen. De Nore was a rabid, anti-Deryni fanatic, and he might have wished to see such a thing take place, but I don't believe he had the power to make that happen, despite his family's resources and connections. And the Willimites in general... they're not stupid. They have an agenda, and turning the entire kingdom against them is not part of that agenda."

"Do you know something about the Willimites, Philip?" Airich asked mildly.

"I know Grecotha, and I know its people," Philip said, not answering the direct question. "We are proud of our city and its heritage and its history of being a center of knowledge. Perhaps there are a few others like de Nore who would happily destroy the world for the sake of their hatred for all things Deryni, but there aren't enough of them to worry about. I have no doubt we'll have them rounded up soon."

To Airich's surprise, Philip believed every word he said. He didn't imagine that Grecotha would be—could be—set alight, and had no knowledge of any such plan. Which could mean that one of the other factions were working without Philp's knowledge, and—most likely—this was the work of de Nore's people.

Airich walked over to the window to observe the spider spinning its web there while he considered what he knew of the Willimites and their assorted factions. The four Willimite leaders didn't know any of de Nore's people, nor did they know how many there were; Marcus had believed there were likely no more than a dozen, but Father Jacob had suspected more. However, nearly a dozen Willimites had been killed or captured in the past two days, and—based on the orders of the Willimite leaders for their people to lay low—these men seemed to be rogue, which also meant they were likely de Nore's.

So: either de Nore's team had been nearly cleaned up by the city watch and the city folk, and they were now unable to go forward with their plan to ignite the city; or de Nore had more followers than the other Willimite leaders suspected, and the plan to burn Grecotha was still in effect. And Airich had no leads on figuring out which.

No, wait. Bede had mentioned the capture of three men responsible for Lady Gwendolyn's kidnapping. After hearing how poorly organized those men had been, it seemed hard to believe that Grecotha could be in danger from such. Perhaps further interrogation could tell them if they were truly dangerous or not.

"And how do you like your new lodgings?" Philip asked, breaking Airich's train of thoughts. Ah, the lieutenant was trying to get information out of him now.

"They're very nice." Airich turned, stretched. "I can barely smell the butcher's shop, even with my bedroom window opened." Of course, there was no butcher's shop in the craft district.

Airich pulled his cloak around his shoulders. "I hope you're right about the Willimites," he said to Philip. "Regardless, I can't wait around here for Captain Hawthorne any longer, I'll have to check back for him later."

"Very good," Philip said. "I wish you luck in your investigations."

"Thank you, Philip. I'm glad we've got good men like you working on our side."

Any Deryni within the sound of that lie would probably feel his ears burning.

Jimmy Taylor was loitering in the main entry just outside the door, pretending to be busy fixing his bootlace. He looked up at Airich as the knight went by. "Find what you were looking for, Sir?" He asked with a curious sparkle in his eye.

"Nay, I'm on my way to the Bishop's now, I'll see if Captain Hawthorne is there," Airich answered  distractedly. He had the unfortunate task now of letting the Bishop know about the vipers in his den.

[Jerusha]

"You'll do fine," Elslpeth said encouragingly as Edwin bowed slightly to the two women before following a lay brother to meet with the dean. She noticed that he straightened his shoulders as he walked away. Good for him!

The physicker and her assistant turned their attention to an old woman in a dark grey gown who stopped in front of them.

"I was told you are here to check on Lady Gwendolyn," she said. Her face was lined, and not a single hair escaped from her starched white coif. "Follow me, if you please." Her voice was pleasant and gave no hint of her greater age.

She led them down a hallway and then up a flight of stairs to a door with a replica of an open book carved into the polished wood. She knocked gently and a voice they recognized replied, "Come."

The woman opened the door to a large solar that normally would have been brighter if most of the shutters were not partially closed to dim the light. She stepped aside to allow the two women to enter first before closing the door.

Elspeth was delighted to see that one wall was taken up by shelves packed with books and scrolls. There was a large writing desk placed in front of them with a neat stack of parchments in the middle and a little wooden holder for pens and ink. Away from the desk Lady Gwendolyn sat in a comfortable cushioned chair with a matching footrest. Beside her was a side table on which a closed book lay, pushed toward the edge of the table as far from the lady as possible. Removing temptation, Elspeth thought with approval. Two stools made of sturdy, well-polished oak had been placed near the table.

"Please sit; I am so glad to see you. Well, as clearly as I can see you, anyway," Gwendolyn said with a smile. "I have been following your instructions and resting my eyes as much as possible," she added. "It has been harder than I would have imagined."

"I only caught her reaching toward a book once," said the old woman, who had taken a seat on the far side of the room where a window let in enough light for her to work on a piece of embroidery in a large frame.

"This is my former nurse and now companion, Lucie Warren." Gwendolyn introduced her visitors and finished by saying, "She has barely left my side since I returned home."

"I lost you once, Missy; I won't be doing it again!"

Elspeth asked her hostess, "Do you mind if I ask Mistress Lucie what happened that afternoon?" Her main concern was how Lady Gwendolyn was progressing, but the opportunity to ask the question had presented itself and she didn't want to lose it.

"Of course," the patient immediately replied. "My uncle has told me about your warrants from the bishop. Please answer freely, Lucie."

"I'm afraid I don't have much of an answer to give, as I've already told the dean," Lucie replied ruefully. "I was a step or two behind my lady, having made sure she received the correct change from a purchase. Suddenly, I was grabbed by the arm and thrown behind the stall. By the time I regained my feet, which at my age was not as swift as I would have liked it to be, there was no sign of Lady Gwendolyn. All I could do was shout for the guards."

"Thank you," Elspeth said. Amy was giving her an impatient look. "Pray pardon me for becoming distracted from our real reason for being here." Gwendolyn graciously nodded her understanding.

"Amy, would you open that shutter just a bit so I can get a better look? Lady Gwendolyn, if you close your eyes to avoid the increased light, it should do you no harm."

Amy rose and opened the shutters about halfway. While standing behind Gwendolyn, she cautiously reached out with her senses, ready to pull away if any hint of merasha remained. But Lady Gwendolyn's shields had returned, and Amy hastily backed away, mentally and physically.

Elspeth felt Gwendolyn tense and stopped her gentle examination of Gwendolyn's face, giving Amy a stern look.

"I hope I have not offended you, my Lady," Amy ventured. She still had so much to learn about being Deryni.

Gwendolyn gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "Mistress Elspeth is fortunate you can assist her in ways others can't. I just wasn't expecting it."

"You are healing nicely," Elspeth said, quickly filling the silence that followed. "I don't believe you will have any scarring once the cuts and scratches have completely healed. Amy, if you will reduce the light just a bit, I want Lady Gwendolyn to open her eyes."

Amy hastily complied, and Gwendolyn cautiously opened her eyes.

Elspeth held up her index finger and moved it slowly from one side of the woman's face to the other, pleased to note the eyes tracked her finger well. She held up a second finger. "How many fingers do you see?"

"I see two," Gwendolyn answered immediately.

"How clear are they?"

"Just a little blurred, but that lessens as I look more closely."

"Don't strain your eyes by trying harder," Elspeth instructed. "You are making good progress. I think we can increase the amount of light gradually. Amy, let's give her a little more light."

Amy adjusted the window again, returning more light to the room.

"Thank you, Mistress; this is much better..." Gwendolyn stopped before completing her sentence as light allowed her to see the physicker's eyes.

"So you have no problem discerning colours," Elspeth said dryly.

"I ask your pardon," Gwendolyn said hastily, and Amy moved beside Elspeth protectively. "It's not as if I don't understand people's reactions when one is not what others expect or are willing to understand."

Elspeth nodded agreement. "One would think it would get easier, but somehow it never quite does. It is discomforting in my work to suddenly be thought of as a witch."

"I am often referred to as Graymalkin, so I understand the feeling."

"God forfend, pray don't think of yourself as my familiar!"

Gwendolyn broke into a delighted laugh. "Don't worry about that! Let me send for some refreshments. Perhaps we can compare notes on the talicil formula and its preparation."

"Oh yes please, that would be wonderful! And the refreshments, too," Elspeth hastily added.

The next hour passed pleasantly as they sipped wine and ate an assortment of delicious tarts. Questions were asked and answered while Amy took notes on one of Elspeth's wax tablets.

"The formula can be enhanced if one is Deryni and knows the right spell," Gwendolyn told them. At Elspeth's look of dismay, she hastily added, "But it's not essential and will work just as well without it, just not as quickly."

"Is that something you can share with me?" Amy asked hesitantly.

Gwendolyn looked thoughtful for a moment. "I don't see any reason why not. If you'd like, I can share it directly with you."

"Oh yes, please do!"

"Just lower your shields and take my hand," Gwendolyn said.

Amy was suddenly aware of how much more experienced the woman before her was and of how much more she needed to learn. She obediently rolled back her shields, placed her hand in Gwendolyn's, and within a heartbeat she had the spell firmly implanted in her memory.

"Thank you," Amy said simply.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"I think I have learned everything I need, though I will want to try a few batches before I am sure. We should be going before we tire you out." Elspeth reached for her satchel.

Amy hesitated, not knowing if she should ask her question or not. Yet if it would help Airich, as much as she dreaded him leaving, she would take the risk.

"I hope it's not against any protocol to ask, but do you know of any Portals available in Grecotha?"

"I think it's a fair question," Gwendolyn replied. "There is a Portal the Deryni students often use, especially those that come from a greater distance. They jump here from a Portal in Carbury, which is about as far away as you can be and safely jump. I will have to ask my uncle for permission to share the signature, but given your warrants, I don't think that will be a problem. Do you know much about Portals, Amy?"

Carbury! Amy swallowed down her excitement and then shook her head.  "Not as much as I would like to, but one of our team is well acquainted with them. He would be the one to share the signature with."

"I believe that would be Sir Airich," Gwendolyn responded. "I'll send word once I have a decision from my uncle."

"We could not ask for anything better," Elspeth said and rose to go. "I'll check in with you in a week, if that is convenient for you."

Lady Gwendolyn nodded her assent. Mistress Lucie was already at the door, waiting to escort them back downstairs.

I hope Edwin has been as successful, Amy thought as they left the solar.