Forgotten Shadows

[Nezz]

Once within Kelson's withdrawing room and the door closed, Duncan shrugged off his helpers' hands and sat himself in a cushioned seat not far from the King's; his stride was as strong as a much younger man's. Kelson sat in his chair, looking over a script he held before him. He handed it to his squire and said "Yes, that will do," and sat back as the boy scurried off on his errand. Four men were now left in the room. Kelson looked upon the O'Flynn men, his face unreadable.

Trevor went down on one knee; Airich followed a moment after.

"Your Majesty," Trevor began, "I beg forgiveness for the lateness in returning to you, but we had a trying time making our way to Grecotha, and an even more difficult time making our way out again. I know Your Majesty has heard something about that. But we are both here now, and ready to do your bidding."

Airich said nothing. Trevor seemed to be speaking for the both of them, as he knew more about the purpose of this summoning, and Airich was fine with that. He kept his head bowed in respect.

Kelson nodded his head. A single, curt nod. "Father Trevor, you may rise."

Airich dared a glance toward Trevor, who met his eyes briefly before standing and stepping back.

Airich was left kneeling alone before the King, who continued to say nothing, just looked down at his subject with that same unreadable expression. As if he were waiting to see what Airich would say.

Airich cleared his throat. "Your servant awaits your pleasure, Your Majesty. I have not been informed of the reason behind your summons, but I am always at your service."

"Understand that we are listening for falsehoods," Kelson said sternly. "We advise you to utter nothing but the full truth to the questions we set before you."

Now Airich was confused and more than a little concerned. What was going on here?

"Sir Airich O'Flynn. Are you now, or have you ever been a member of the Brotherhood of Saint Willim?"

Of all the questions Kelson could have asked him, this was among the last that Airich would have expected. "No, Sire!"

"Do you sympathize with their cause?"

"Of course not! I've been fighting them in Grecotha."

"What about the Willimites in Derry and Coroth?"

What had the King heard? Airich tried to think of some of the sentiments he had uttered with his friends that might have smeared Deryni... Madre de Dios, what had he said back then while drunk and in a mood? He couldn't have advocated killing anyone... could he?

He moistened a mouth gone suddenly dry. "I have Willimite friends in Derry, and some in Coroth. We mostly just... complained. And drank. And complained more. But I swear to you, I never overheard anyone suggest taking it beyond that. There was no talk of harming anyone, just... an excuse to get drunk. And complain. As any man, Deryni or otherwise, might do. No more than that."

"And what exactly were the nature of these complaints?"

"That... that a man has no secrets from the Deryni. No privacy. If any Deryni wants to know a man's thoughts, he is free to discover them. Whether for wicked reasons or mere curiosity. Whether to cheat at Emperor's game or because he wants to know the man's favorite child. To discover the identity of the man's mistress. The Deryni has the ability to simply take what he wants from a man's head, and the man has no recourse."

"You know we teach our children to not abuse others' privacy."

"Likewise, we teach our children to not steal, and yet some of them grow up to become thieves and robbers."

"We police our own. We always have, of a necessity," the King said, frowning.

"But they don't know that," Airich pointed out. He didn't want to defend the Willimites, but the King had asked, and Airich wasn't going to attempt to leave out anything important. "But these men... aren't they our own as well? Shouldn't they know the punishment a dishonest Deryni receives? It's his privacy that's been invaded, after all."

Kelson was silent, staring down at Airich. He glanced momentarily at Duncan, then looked back down on the knight.

"And so those were the complaints you discussed with your Willimite friends?"

Thinking of the Truthreading on him, Airich said "I truly believe I have given His Majesty a clear understanding of my meetings with the Williimites I've known in Derry and Coroth."

"And other Willimites?"

Thinking back to his conversations with Philip Saxon and Pietre de Guerra yesterday, he said, "I've had conversations with some of their leaders and tried to find out why they hate us so, but none of them could give me specifics. I gathered it involved events that happened during the war."

"Did you ever tell any of them about Lord Washburn's abilities?"

"Wha—? No, never! I have never spoken of that to anyone who didn't already know, and even then only indirectly."

"Have you been seeking him with the hopes of converting him to your cause? Or turning him over to them?"

And now Airich was well and truly speechless. That the King would even suggest such a thing... Lord above, Kelson must truly distrust him.

And he still sat there, silent, waiting for Airich to speak.

"No. I was... no."

"And how did you discover the existence of his abilities?"

How many other people were in trouble because of Airich? "I overheard mi madr—I heard my Lady Mother talking with my Father about it. I was not deliberately spying on them. But I heard enough, and then I did further research and discovered the Cult of Revan, and figured out the connection between the two."

"And you hated being Deryni enough that you sought him out to take away your Deryni powers and throw away your mother's heritage?"

How could he possibly explain the past four years of his life with a simple yes or no question? "Sire, that's not really— I don't hate my heritage. I was angry for a time, but I was not... I did not..."

Kelson changed tack now. "We are given to understand that, after having friendly relations with the Willimite leaders in Grecotha, you have had a falling out with them and have, in fact, been brawling with them."

Dear Lord, was there any part of Airich's life that the King didn't know about? Had he heard about any of the good Airich had done, or only the damning bits? "It was no brawl, Your Majesty. They tried to murder me. They nearly succeeded." It was the complete truth, yet it sounded like a pitiful excuse, even to Airich's own ears.

"Sir Airich, we understand you have allowed Collos Feyd d'Chameaux of Vézaire access to your mind."

Airich would receive no mercy from the King, he could see that now. Resigned, he said, "I didn't allow it, Sire. I was drugged with merasha. I didn't have a choice."

"What did he do while he was there?"

"He performed a sort of healing ritual on me. Baron Washburn and Earl Iain were also involved and can vouch for the truth of this." In this one thing, at least, he had reliable witnesses.

"Was this before or after the brawl with the Willimites?"

"I... after, Sire."

"Did you ask any of our lords to keep an important secret from us? "

Airich wondered if exile or execution would be the outcome of this interrogation. Because he could see no other resolution the King might be heading towards. "No. I asked..." He couldn't even remember who he might have asked this favor of, "I asked them to ask you if they could be allowed to keep my secret for a short time. I wanted to tell you my entire story at one time instead of you hearing only parts of it from someone else."

"Very well. Tell us this secret that only you can explain."

At last. Hopefully all this would finally make sense to the King. "This is very complicated. It would be much easier if I could use Mindspeech with Your Majesty."

"Easier perhaps, but we will not allow it. We do not know what Feyd has done to your mind. He may have left traps there, as he once trapped Baron Washburn's mind, and we will not risk this. So, if you would..." Kelson gestured him to continue.

So be it. Words would have to do. Eyes downcast, Airich once again told the story of that fateful night when his father nearly died, and its disastrous aftermath. Of his shame and withdrawal from his family, and research into his own healing, followed by his decision to become Human. Of the worsening symptoms over the past week and the emergence of his father's consciousness. And finally, Collos' ritual and Wash's healing of his wound.

Near-healing, Airich reminded himself as the wound had begun to ache from his remaining on one knee for an extended time. He rubbed it unconsciously, then pulled his hand behind his back, hoping Kelson hadn't noticed.

He lifted his eyes and met those grey eyes, and again saw through his father's eyes the boy, the friend, the King, the man he'd become, known to Airich since childhood as a fair and kind ruler.

Kelson's face still bore no hint of his thoughts, no kindness, no friendship.

"And this is the reason you denied your family? Your heritage? To hurt both your parents as well as your brothers and sisters, all who love you far more than you deserve?"

Airich hung his head. There was no answer to these questions.

"Do you have nothing to say?"

"Only that..." Oh, where were the words that might possibly express how low he felt at that moment? "I am ashamed to have hurt my family so. And that I have behaved in such a manner that my King no longer trusts me."

Silence.

Finally, "Let us see what we can do to rebuild that trust, Sir Airich. You may rise."

Airich awkwardly got to his feet, his thumb pressed against his side. Could it be that the worst was finally over?

"You must speak with your parents about your behavior towards your family since this incident you mentioned."

"Your Majesty, I have been reminded of my duty to my family by my priest." Airich glanced aside at Trevor—standing near Duncan—whose mouth was set in a scowl. "It has been my intent to confess and apologize to each of them after this business in Grecotha has been settled."

"Grecotha is no longer your concern. You can apologize to them next week at your wedding."