Forgotten Shadows

[Marc_du_Temple]

Early in the morning, before the sun rose to witness the days proceedings devilish and divine, Bede Archer approached the convalescent Airich O'Flynn, unarmed except for the sheathed sword in his hands. He did not kneel, but he did bow, showing due deference and masking his joy at the knight's survival of yesterday's tormented hours. "Milord," he began, offering the sword he had secured for a brief time. "Yon beauteous blade was being paraded through a darkling tavern like an auld chief's daughter by Ruman victor on triumph. When I saw it there in the hands of our shared enemies, my blood boiled, and I knew I had ta have it ... back for ye, that is. It has shed na blood in this brief time, but greatly impressed strangers and myself also by other qualities."

"Oh? Such as?"

"Its swift lightness. Its striking silhouette in the rain. It seems to have an authority all its own I did na appreciate the first time ye briefly entrusted it ta me. Yet if such a thing could be true, then it is good that ye are so quickly ready for it again, yeah?" As it changed hands and Airich refamiliarized himself with the blade he had not held in what felt like years, Bede studied his friend's face and frowned. "Ye look more ... worn, milord. Are ye quite up for this day's challenges?"

Airich laughed hollowly, but smiled truthfully. "I missed even you, Bede. It's nothing, really. It just took awhile to make me whole. Thank you for guarding this one part of me while the rest was being sorted."

[Marc_du_Temple]

Airich considered the situation. Far be it from a knight to reward a good service rendered with a simple thank you. "Bede, have you noticed that this is not my only sword?"

"No, milord," Bede raised an eyebrow. He was just leaving. Where is Airich going with this? he wondered.

"There is another. Less sentimental to me, but more than adequate. I think of it as a spare, but it's not helping anyone just sitting amongst my other goods, wherever my dear Amy left those, is it? It's yours to use in the service of our shared goals, my friend."

"Ye won't regret this," Bede bowed more deeply this time.

[Jerusha]

Friday morning
Master Collos' large safehouse
Grecotha

"I'm sorry Ams, I can't save it."

"Surely Speth, there is something more you can do!"

"There's too much blood. I've done everything I can think of. Perhaps Father Trevor can say a few words before we bury it."

"You need a few words from me?" Father Trevor asked as he entered the kitchen area of the safe house. 

Elspeth held up Airich's blood-stained tunic. All her hard work to try to get the blood out had only enlarged the tear where the dagger had driven through it. It was hopeless.

"Ah, I see," the priest said with a chuckle. "Where do you plan to bury it?"

"At the bottom of the rubbish heap. No one needs to see it as a reminder of what Airich endured."

Amy nodded her agreement. "Amen."

"Do I get any say in the matter?" Airich asked as he joined them.

"No," Elspeth and Amy answered in unison. 

Airich laughed and held his hands outward in a peace gesture. He was dressed in his spare tunic, freshly shaved, and hair neatly tied back. But he still looked pale and moved slowly; it would take time to work through the soreness that remained. Time he didn't want to spend.

"We need to leave for the bishop's palace soon," he said to Elspeth.

"Give me a moment or two to make myself more presentable," she replied as she untied the large apron she had been wearing to protect her own clothing from her struggles.

"I wish you would let me go with you," Amy said.

"I would love to have you at my side," the knight replied with a smile. "But the bishop asked specifically for Elspeth and me."

Amy looked at Trevor, who shook his head. "It's probably for the best. You don't need to answer questions about how Jasper's cronies ended up flat on the ground and unconscious. Bishop Bernard is not comfortable with our powers to begin with; let's not totally dismay him." 

Trevor's smile softened his words a bit and Amy nodded reluctantly.

Airich gingerly buckled his knight's mostly white belt carefully around his waist. His wound was healed but significant soreness remained. He would not go without his blade that Bede had returned, even though this time it was genuinely lashed securely to its scabbard.

Elspeth returned wearing a fresh gown and carrying her satchel slung over her shoulder.  "It's time to go," she said briskly, trying not to notice the priest's smile.

"I have Aran ready," Trevor said as he led them outside. 

Aran stood patiently, his reins tied to a ring by the door. A pillion saddle had been added for Elspeth's comfort.

"He is such a beautiful animal," Amy said as she moved forward to stroke the horse's soft shoulder. 

"I don't think Da has ever owned an ugly horse," Airich began and stopped  as Trevor moved a mounting block beside the animal. "A mounting block?" he asked, aghast at the thought he  might actually need it.

"It's for Elspeth," Trevor replied smoothly.

"It better be," Airich muttered under his breath. He mounted first, unprepared for muscles that complained when the action would normally be effortless. With a grunt he reached out his arm to steady Elspeth as Trevor boosted her onto the pillion.

"Godspeed," Trevor said, and Amy waved as Airich walked the horse forward.

[Laurna]

Damn! Sir Airich O'Flynn was a man to behold!

Seated on his proud steed, Amy could drink this view in all day. It did not matter to Amy, those weary creases that ran under the knight's eyes and along his temples. Those eyes themselves were wide and bright in the heavily clouded morning light. The blue might not be in the overhead cloudy sky, but it was in those beautiful clear eyes of his. All those shielded-off memories were now part of Sir Airich in whole; Amy could feel this about the man. What a difference the ritual had brought forth.

Also, it mattered not that it was Elspeth, not herself, seated upon the horse pillion style. One day soon, Amy will sit in that saddle- Sir Airich truly had asked her to marry him and Amy had said Yes- she was confident with her future becoming the wife of this handsome knight. Elspeth too looked regal sitting there, a leader among them. Amy knew that Elspeth's hand on Airich's shoulder was not for holding on, but was her way of being certain Airich would not keel over any second. Elspeth would watch him, and take care of him. Amy was certain of it. And it pleased her. She mouthed the words, "Thank You" to her friend.

Not knowing what to do with her hands, for they wanted to betray her by holding Airich's hand and never letting go, she hitched them over the belt of her kirtle. She felt the string of the small bag she had tied there. She untied it and then dashed up the mounting block before Aran could take a second step away.

"Sir Airich, I forgot to give these back to you. You must have them wherever you go. And do not lose them again." The bag jingled as the knight's face warmed up to realize what was inside the bag.

His fingers brushed hers as they wrapped over the string. And seeing her stand at nearly his same height, he stepped the horse closer and pulled her to him. "I promise, I will do as you say."

Amy was sure he was only going to kiss her hand in front of all these people; instead, he leaned across the small distance, ignoring the twinge in his side, and his lips touched her lips with a grateful kiss. Elspeth cleared her throat when neither of the two shifted away from the other in good time.

Amy side-glanced at her friend and blushed. "Speth, take care of him," she said, standing straight while squeezing both of their hands in each of her own.

Amy did not retreat from the mounting block until the horse and his two riders had moved away, and Father Trevor had amusingly given her a hand to step down.

[Bynw]

Come Friday morning and the rains have finally stopped. The city of Grecotha is one again coming to life. The towns people are out. Merchants and craftsmen make their way to appointments through busy streets.

The people are happy at the clear skies above the city. With the grey and wet fading away children find time to play again when not occupied by chores. Students and priests rush from building to building on the great university campus.

It truly is a day of celebration.

And there are some who silently nod to one another in passing. Sharing a smile that, on the surface is friendly, yet speaks of an untold horror to come.

It wont take long for the city to dry out and be ripe for the flames.

[revanne]

With thanks to Marc for Bede's part (and for not hitting Edwin).

The chair in which Edwin sat was comfortable enough and he had slept well in far worse places but he took some time to drop off. He was truly worried for Aidan, but the sound of gentle snoring was enough to reassure him on that front; what was keeping him awake was the remembered look on Elspeth's face as she had warned him in no uncertain terms to be back within two hours. Would Amy have remembered to tell Elspeth of the changed circumstances? He liked Amy well enough and did not think she would deliberately forget, but her main focus was Airich. Somewhat to Edwin's surprise he thought that without any sense of anger or bitterness, he found that he truly wished both of them well. He did wish though that he wasn't so scared of Elspeth's tongue. Finally, exhaustion won out and he drifted into a deep sleep.

"Ah mun gie hence! Ah shouldn'a be here, they'll ha'e ma hide fur being awa' the whole nicht." Woken by Aidan's distress, Edwin stirred groggily to see the lad folding his blanket neatly, even in his agitation Aidan's monastic training clearly held good. As Edwin came more awake he could see that it was still barely light, but then monks got up before dawn, or so he had heard.

"Ach, they'll ha'e ma hide and ah've nae doute it'll be bread an' water fer a sennight. On ma knees on the floor sae they can all see ma shame."

Edwin knew little of monastic punishments, though discipline was known to be harsh. But he could not let Aidan face that on his own, he must take the lad to Canon Damien and explain what had happened. Though whether the Canon would believe him was another matter entirely. He could but try.

"Hush lad, ye were teken ill, there's nae sin in tha', ah'll cum wi' ye an vouch for ye ta' Canon Damien." The look of relief and gratitude in Aidan's face startled and rather unnerved Edwin by its intensity. He was relieved rather than offended when Aidan's usually well hidden sense of mischief suddenly burst out as he said, "Thank 'ee maister, though I'd no thought ye ta be an expert on just what meks a thing a sin."

"Ye have the right o' it ma lad," said Edwin with a grin to show he took no offence, thinking to himself save in the doing of them "sae let's be off ta find oot."

There were a few folk already about as they left the house, though all that Edwin saw were too sleepily going about their own business to take note of what others might be doing. Their way took them within scent of the cookshop and Edwin was amused to see that even despite Aidan's real fear, the young lad's nose twitched at the savoury aroma of last night's pottage being reheated with oatmeal to fill the bellies of hungry workers. Thankfully, he had some coin still left in his pouch.

"If there's any fear o'yer being clemmed on bread an' water mebbe's we'd best fill up when we've the chance. We've time enow" "But maister" Aidan began to protest, but his heart was not in it and when Edwin pushed the bowl of steaming porridge into his hand he began to eat hungrily using the hunk of yesterday's bread accompanying the bowl as a scoop. Even the thought of fasting made Edwin's belly rumble, so he had bought another bowlful for himself and the two feasted like hungry puppies, made oblivious for that moment of their worries in the joy of the food.

Then the archer appeared. He was clearly on the same quest, but that did not mean Edwin was glad to see him. The fellow always seemed to lead to trouble. Though the scholar in Edwin, trained to see both sides of an argument, inconveniently woke up and reminded Edwin that Bede could doubtless say the same of him. Then a thought struck him and moving out of earshot of Aidan, who in any case was absorbed in the refuge of good food, he spoke quietly to the archer.

"Good morning to you, Bede. I dinna know whether you believed in my tale of being kidnapped and the same villains messing with my mind, but I now have proof for ye."

"I'm listening," Bede replied with concealed interest. Of course I bloody well believed you; I saw the kidnapping and felt your delusion-driven fist.

He makes it sound of as little import as though I was discussing the weather, thought Edwin grumpily but it's better than the fist it might have been. Edwin shared what he had learned from Aidan's mind of the man who was clearly controlling the  young monk and added, "And I'd swear on the bones of any saint you wish that it's the same man who kidnapped me and messed with my mind, the blaggard. An' the mair I think on what they said when they thought I was still unconscious it was no' me they were after but a knight. And I'd bet good coin it was Airich. Something nasty is going on here."

Bede was interested and as Edwin described the man who had been the leader of those he had followed to no good ending, the man whom he had seen in Aidan's sadly confused mind, he became more interested still. The description was uncanny, even including his cruelly laughing brows and thick, snorting nose.

"An' Aidan here has a place where he reports to his master?" Bede looked as though he would march them there, there and then but Edwin broke in hastily, "Aye he does, but he's no' going there. I'm taking him back to the one who is his master, and it's no' that scum. The good Canon will know how to help the lad, and if he dinna I'll find someone who does."

Bede held out his hand in a placatory gesture as if to ward off Edwin's vehemence. "Alright, I'll not interfere with ye being the good Samaritan but as part of your good deeds for the day tell me where the place is." Edwin complied but added the warning, "Aidan would no be free to be out until after Morning Mass, so maybe an hour or more after the monastery bells have rung for Terce."

"So I see. Thank ye, both. We'll bring him to justice, and the kind he faces shall be up to him," Bede declared quietly, almost shuddering as he felt the weight of destiny upon his shoulders. At last, the villain that had walked in his midst, that he had let slip away time and again, may benight the lands no more. Then he chuckled privately at his own hypocrisy before seeking his breakfast.

[Jerusha]

Thanks to Nezz for adding an extra Airich part.

Elspeth and Airich had not gone far before another rider slipped in beside them. Airich had sensed the rider's approach, but Elspeth was surprised to find Guardsman Taylor riding abreast.

"Thought I'd give you a bit of an escort, since you are pretty much unarmed," Jimmy said, glancing at the knight's bound sword.

"In other words, Trevor sent you," Airich replied.

"Let's just say the possibility of someone not wanting you to make it to the bishop came to mind." Jimmy glanced at the hilt of Airich's Knight's dagger which now protruded from his own boot. "Just in case you need it."

The journey, however, proved uneventful, and Elspeth was glad of it. She had to admit she was enjoying the smooth gait of the horse and the way people quickly moved out of their way. Before her, Airich twisted his head to look into the clear blue sky. Shortly thereafter, thin, high clouds began drifting over the city.

"I had a talk with Amy earlier—" Airich began.

"I am aware of this," Elspeth said. "She was literally dancing when she came in this morning."

Airich glanced back, a half-grin on his face. "You have been an important part of her life since you met, taking her in and giving her a useful trade and a purpose that makes use of her natural abilities. I know I don't need your permission to wed her, but I should very much like your blessing."

Elspeth smiled and then looked thoughtful. "You are right, you don't need my blessing, but perhaps Amy does. She has always been a person to put another's well being before her own, as I believe you have discovered."

It was Airich's turn to smile. 

"But in this case," Elslpeth continued, "she needs to follow what is right for her. She will always have my love and respect, and I will always be there for her if she needs me, though by God's grace she won't." She smiled again at Airich, a smile as dazzling as the sun. "You both have my blessing."

Upon arrival at the bishop's palace, they were ushered into the waiting area outside the bishop's study. An older monk Elspeth did not recognize rose from behind a small desk, knocked on the bishop's door and entered. 

"Sir Airich, Mistress Elspeth, Bishop Bernard will see you now."

Bishop Bernard sat behind his desk; several pieces of parchment lay before him. Airich bowed, Elspeth curtseyed, and the bishop offered his ring to be kissed. He did not waste time on small talk.

"Mistress Elspeth, please describe the extent of Sir Airich's injuries."

Elspeth kept her voice dispassionate and professional as she described the wound and how she was certain it could suppurate. The bishop did not ask her how Airich was able to stand before him, seeming fully recovered when by rights he should still be in bed. Elspeth did not volunteer the information.

"Thank you Mistress," the bishop said when she had finished. "You may wait in the outside chamber while Sir Airich and I speak."

Elspeth curtseyed and retreated. She left Airich facing the bishop with his hands clasped behind his back. 

Guardsman Taylor was still sitting in the room on one of the benches as Elspeth left the bishop's office. He rose as she approached and offered space on the bench for her to sit.

"I didn't think you would still be here," she said in a low voice. 

Jimmy tilted his head in the direction of the monk. "He indicated I should remain."

Elspeth gave him a quizzical look. "The bishop did not ask me how Sir Airich now seemed whole and sound. Does he know about the Healing?"

"In general terms, yes."

"You told him?"

"I told him as much as he would believe."

"Did you tell him about Lord Collos?" Elspeth wondered who Guardsman Taylor really was. She was certain he was not who he appeared to be.

"Not yet. The bishop, good man that he is, can only deal with so much at once. We don't want him ripping up more warrants," Jimmy added dryly.

The physicker toyed with the question she wanted to ask before speaking again. "Do you trust Lord Collos?"

"Now that is a good question," Jimmy responded carefully. "I believe he is a man true to his beliefs, but those beliefs have changed over time."

"Have you known him for a long time?" Elspeth asked.

"Let's just say our paths have crossed a time or two." Jimmy looked directly into her eyes. "What I will say is that we would be foolish not to trust him in this. He doesn't want Grecotha to burn, or to lose any Deryni, or Human, lives. We need the information he possesses, and we need his help. Five investigators can't do this alone."

"We're only four now," Elslpeth reminded him.

Jimmy looked as if he was about to say something, but decided not to.

[revanne]

Edwin and Aidan continued together through the town, and as they approached the Abbey church Edwin was relieved to see that a fair number were making their way into the church for Prime. He was thinking that it was surely odd for so many to be holy enough to rise before dawn and make their way to church rather than being content to say their prayers at home when Aidan broke into his thoughts,

"Folk are afeared wi' all the rumours flying aboot and seek comfort where they can. 'Twill mek it easier fer the twae o'us ta slip in. I'll gang t'the night stairs and join with the brethen." Edwin was touched by the young lad's attempt to sound brave, and even more touched when his facade cracking he clutched at Edwin's sleeve,
"Dinna forget wha'ye promised maister and speak fer me t' the Canon."

Edwin tried hard to pray during the short service, the more so since he had realised that he had no idea how he would fulfil his promise. He was very relieved to see that as the other monks filed out, Aidan went instead to kneel humbly before the Canon who looked down at his errant assistant with an expression which suggested that Aidan's fears of severe punishment were all too well-founded. Edwin fumbled inside his cotte with a hand suddenly become hot and sticky with sweat, took out the Bishop's commission, and then walked forward. As he approached the step which elevated the monks' choir from the nave he paused to genuflect to the presence lamp at the side of the altar, then with what he hoped sounded like assured confidence rather than brazen impudence said loudly,

"I beg your pardon, father, but I would intreat a moment of your time." The sound of his own voice seemed to echo horribly in the vaulted spaces of the nave and he inwardly blenched at what now seemed arrant stupidity. He had probably just ensured that Aidan was even more severely punished and he was hardly surprised to imagine he heard his father's voice say in exasperated tones "Will ye niver learn ta keep oot o' other folk's affairs."

His sense that he had messed up again was only confirmed when the Canon turned his severe gaze away from the now quaking Aidan and said in a voice of cold chill, "I would ask, young man, what should never need to be asked, that you refrain from intruding upon the sacred confession of a sinner. And if there is any way at all that you have any involvement in his sin, I recommend you betake yourself at once to humble and contrite confession on your own behalf."

[Jerusha]

"Have you any proof that de Guerra is behind this or that he knew of it?" Bishop Bernard asked.

I have heard this question before, and it didn't end well, Airich thought.

"I only have proof of Jasper's involvement," he said firmly. "Jasper is a cruel man, but he's a follower, not a leader. And he craves recognition and reward. I can't believe for a moment that he did not run to de Guerra with all of the gory details as soon as he left me. And why did Jasper return? Why not just leave me to the slow death he'd threatened me with? Was he sent to clean up the mess he made? The only person who could send him was de Guerra."

"This is still not proof," the bishop responded.

"Your Grace, we have discussed this before. I don't believe you would sanction torture. There is another way to get the information."

"A Deryni way!"  Bernard snapped.

"It may be the only way, especially since Jasper will have difficulty speaking for some time," Airich spoke as mildly as he could manage.

Bishop Bernard rose, walked to the window and stood with his back to Airich. Finally he turned.

"If these means must be used, they will be done so on the King's orders. I will turn Jasper and the other prisoners over to King Kelson's jurisdiction to pursue as he judges best. You will see to it, Sir Airich."

Airich could not keep the surprise out of his voice. "You removed my authority, your Grace."

The bishop picked up a rolled parchment from his desk. "I may have acted in haste, and I have had time to reconsider." He handed the parchment to the knight standing before him. "Your warrant has been renewed."

***

The old monk had directed Jimmy into the bishop's office as soon as Airich left it. Airich had raised a rolled parchment triumphantly in the direction of Elspeth and proceeded to untie his sword from its scabbard. The knight had left with a much lighter step, albeit still a slow one, than when he had arrived.

Jimmy Taylor rose from his bow and kissed the bishop's ring. He waited for the bishop to speak.

"I have issued a new warrant for Sir Airich O'Flynn," the bishop said. "But I want a Purple Guardsman with them as they continue to search for those, Willimite or not, who continue to threaten Grecotha, her university and her people." He gave Jimmy a look that did not invite discussion. "I can't spare Phillip or Hawthorne, so that guardsman will be you."   

"As you wish, your Grace," Jimmy replied.

"Keep an eye on them. Note what they do and who they talk to. Report to me directly as necessary." Before Jimmy could say more he added, "And yes, I will inform Phillip that you're following my orders."

Sir Iain Cameron left; his step was as light as Airich's had been.

[Marc_du_Temple]

Oleg Niklaev strode with the pride of a highborn noble, but no one took it for anything more than the pride of a good student, on the way back to his apartment apart from the dormitories of the common students at the Grecothan University. But it was not to his apartment that he went, but behind it, into the shadowy, damp alleyway, out of sight. Amidst the scraps of wood, cloth, and other junk people were yet remiss to be truly rid of, he stood, impatiently, and quite beside himself. The bells had tolled the proper hour. His thrall, the canon's aide, should have arrived. "I am not a man to be kept waiting, Aiden," he said aloud, in a voice much more his own than that of a jester or a student's.

((Bede Sneaks 3d6 5 + 5 + 6)) Oleg heard a rustling of air and dirt shifting through a cloth behind him, then beheld a dusty, wet Bede Archer standing there, staring neutrally at him, but visibly armed with bow and sword, this time. "Macbee," he greeted him tersely.

"Hello, John," Oleg smiled as if he were truly happy to see him. No sense in changing shape now, he decided, sidling closer to the Mearan. "Have you come to thank me for getting that ugly mug warmed by a woman's embrace?" he snickered sincerely, but he did not believe in coincidences. Most certainly, his hypnotized little informant was compromised. But Archer preferred to handle things alone, in his own way. He could still handle the vainglorious rebel and go on about his day.

"I suppose I could. Thank ye for that. And for framing that poor gardener for a whole host of crimes, including one that would have discredited him as a witness against my petty antics."

"I didn't just frame him, foolish John. I convinced him. Like this," Oleg lifted his thumb to touch Bede's forehead theatrically. Bede let him. ((Jester MacBee/Oleg Hypnotizes 2d6 1 + 3))

((Bede Resistance 3d6 2 + 5 + 3)) When nothing happened save for Bede smiling like a wolf, Oleg's confidence faltered. ((Bede Strong  3d6 2 + 6 + 4)) The investigating archer snatched his arm in its place and held it steady, resisting Oleg's struggle to wrench himself free. ((Bede STRONG 3d6 5 + 4 + 4)) With a second arm, he twisted Oleg's arm in his practiced way, bending him down to his knees. But Oleg would not give up so easily. He furrowed his brow and concentrated, reaching out with his mind to the refuse around them, imagining it lifting and obeying his will like so many people. ((Oleg uses Telekinesis 2d6 1 + 4)) But it was not enough; he could not muster the necessary focus through the pain. Somewhere beyond his sight, a dog barked fiercely. ((Breyden The Dog Perception 3d6 2 + 1 + 5)) ((Oleg Shape Change 2d6 5 + 4)) Oleg had one more trick in his arsenal left, and Bede witnessed it in horror strong enough to almost loosen his grip. In his hands, he felt Oleg's flabby arms harden and sharpen in shape, his effete suppleness become more modest in aspect, his skin darken and hair lighten, until the face smiling haughtily at him was none other than Edwin's.

"Archer, I insist you let him go," Captain Phineas said, flanked by the two other guards that Bede and Edwin had saved Gwendolyn with, along with the loyal hound, Breyden. ((Captain Phineas Perception 2d6 1 + 1))((Quigley Perception 2d6 3 + 2))((Rauf Perception 2d6 2 + 3)) "Clearly, your friend Edwin is not the man we both came for. Stop these childish games at once."

"Are ye blind?" Bede cried. "Did ye na see Oleg confess to crimes and then try to hypnotize me with darker Deryni magic? That's who this is, I swear it!"

"You ... cannot be serious, Bede," "Edwin" grimaced, in unaccented speech. Oleg was not practiced enough for Edwin's exact speech, but who knew either man well enough to notice, besides Bede? He thanked his fiendish, disputed patron Saint Wencit that the guards, wherever they had waited for their part in the ambush, were less perceptive than a blind man.

"I damn well can be! Look at the knife he's carrying. That's a Mearan dirk. My father's Mearan dirk! He stole it from Edwin, along with the shirt he's wearing beneath his student's robes."

"Edwin stole Edwin's shirt, and your knife?" Quigley asked, perplexed. "Well, if you asked Edwin politely, I'm sure he'd be amenable to returning the knife, at the least."

Phineas stepped closer and spoke. "Master Scrivener, don't you have somewhere else you should be right now?" To which Oleg happily nodded, naturally.

Exasperated but refusing to let "Edwin" go, Bede struggled to prove what only he seemed to know for the truth. He noticed the dog Breyden was snarling, and he tensed, for he had limited experience with dogs in his own life, but noticed that the beast was snarling not at him, but at "Edwin". "Look at yer dog, men. He's never been mad at Edwin before, has he?" When he was met with agreeing silence, he ventured further. "Let's ask Edwin a question or two only we would all ken the truth of, yeah?" When Phineas agreed, Bede relaxed his grip slightly. "If ye are Edwin Scrivener, then have ye made use of this knife before?"

"Of course I have, you hateful oaf. It's the best thing you could have given me, and cuts like a bear's claw."

Unfortunately, that was true. But Bede was not finished. "How do we know these men?"

"We're always getting into trouble, and we are the canon's investigators."

Also true. No more room for light sparring. "Who was it that we saved with these men, and what is it you feel about him?"

"Why ... we saved Aiden, of course! Good lad, but regrettably impressionable."

"Did I say 'him'? My honest mistake. But the real Edwin would have Gwendolyn on his flighty mind at the mere sight of the men who helped save her. MacBee."

"Edwin"'s expression changed to imperious outrage with a hint of fear. "You do not understand. I am certainly not who you think I am. I have friends in high places! Far, near, and much higher than your stations! I am a direct descendant of Lukyan Niklaev, the Duke of Vaclav himself! You wouldn't dare touch me." That much was news, even to Bede, but the guards were unphased. It was not the first time a spoiled son had tried to strut his way over the laws of the city.

"Oh? But you dare touch the subjects of King Kelson?" queried Phineas, who flicked his gaze at Bede, now full of shared understanding and belief. The other guards moved to bind Oleg properly while Phineas calmly stated the charges, including theft, assault, impersonation, brainwashing, and possibly espionage, all done against His Majesty's subjects. "Although the full extent of such has yet to be determined," he finished.

As the guards carried him away, Bede secured his father's knife in its usual place, and exhaled the tension of the confrontation. Perhaps blood need not be shed for justice, at least not by him, today. Then he remembered the plans they had devised with their new ally Collos, and his cheer was choked.

[Bynw]

Friday, late morning

The late morning sun slanted through the dust-veiled windows of the Seminary Chapel, casting trembling slivers of gold across the worn faces of weathered icons. Father Theo stood at the altar, his seminary robes wrapped tightly around him, as if to hold in the fury brewing beneath his skin. His students currently dismissed to other duties before the next bell tolled for prayers and study.

Father Robert entered with haste, the thick silence of the chapel broken only by his footsteps. His voice came low, urgent.

"They've found one of the caches," he said.

Theo didn't turn. "Where?"

"The Bakers Guild. Rendered inert within the last few days. Those damned Deryni investigators have truly discovered our plans."

Now Theo turned—slowly, deliberately. His eyes held no surprise, only cold contempt.

"The Bishop should never have trusted those heretic mongrels," he spat. "He could have died in the inferno with the blessing of the Custodes. But he has turned to using foul sorcery. And now? He will pay the price for his lack of judgment."

"But the rest remains untouched," Robert added quickly. "The great Library. The bell tower crypt. The Mason's Lodge. All caches still burn beneath the skin of this Deryni city."

Theo stepped forward and placed his hand on Robert's shoulder—less comfort, more command.

"Then we move. Tonight."

Robert's breath caught. "You're certain?"

"There is no choice," Theo said. "The flames will speak before doubt does. Grecotha will learn that its sins have roots far deeper than parchment and prayer."

He retrieved a bundle sealed with wax and pressed it into Robert's hands.

"Notify the others. Every vault. Every wick. After dusk, we baptize and cleanse the city in fire."

Robert gave a single nod, turned, and vanished into the chapel's gloom.

Behind him, Theo remained motionless, staring at the altar as though it might crack open and swallow the whole world. And somewhere beneath cobbled streets and academic halls, the rest of the Byzantyun fire waited—patient, volatile, and unforgiving.

[revanne]

Edwin's first instinct was to turn on his heel and walk away, then he was flooded with a wave of black anger and he bit his lip ferociously to stop him saying what would have destroyed any chance of his being heard. Instead he drew a deep breath and, stepping forward, did on Aidan's behalf what he would have never, short of the last judgment, done on his own. He knelt beside Aidan and, bowing his head low, reached for the hem of the Canon's robe and brought it to his lips in sign of humble submission.

"I beg you Father, and I swear on whatever it is that I should hold most holy, you must listen to me."

The Canon looked down gravely at Edwin, then put his hand in absolution and blessing on Aidan's head, murmuring "ego te absolvo" before gently raising the now shivering lad to his feet. "Go and make your prayers to Our Lady and trust in her forbearance for an errant child."

Aidan obediently moved to the statue of the gentle maiden which had always brought comfort to him and kneeling once again moved his lips in fervent prayer.  Standing as the statue did in a side chapel within sight but not earshot of the Canon and Edwin, Edwin just had time to note the wisdom of this before Canon Damien asked in a voice which had regained its previous chill.

"Can you swear on the most holy cross of our Lord that you have no responsibility for brother Aidan's dereliction of his duty this last night."

Edwin felt sick. He dare not lie but would Canon Damien listen to his explanation. He had to try, "No Father I cannot, but I beg you to listen to what I have to say. Aidan's, forgive me, Brother Aidan's very soul may depend on it."

Canon Damien looked down at Edwin without either a word or change of expression. He had always had a soft spot for this lad from the Borders, knowing that his love of learning was real but he nursed few illusions about him. Often in trouble, as prideful as a cockerel, and though he would never put blame on another, he would lie readily enough to get himself out of punishment. And he had seen no hint of real devotion about him. But now, not only was he refusing a ready made lie offered to him, he was humbling his own pride on behalf of another. Damien had the uncomfortable feeling that were he to ask the lad to prostrate himself and kiss his feet he would do it. He pushed that temptation aside but decided that it would do Edwin no harm to be kept on his knees.

"Well then, can you at least swear that you mean him no harm." 

Edwin straightened his shoulders and looked his questioner fully in the face,
"That I can and will swear. I beg that you will let me explain."

The Canon nodded his consent and listened with mounting dismay as Edwin told his tale. Damien was no Deryni but as a priest he was experienced enough as a confessor to know when words had the ring of truth.  He was deeply shocked by what he heard of the compulsions laid in the mind of his young and vulnerable novice. The good and godly Deryni he knew as his colleagues had sometimes spoken of such abuses of power but only to emphasise the strictures against them. Damien found an anger rising in his own heart which warmed to the obvious anger in Edwin's voice. He reached down and offered a hand to help Edwin to rise, gesturing that the young man should seat himself on the bench alongside him.

"Forgive me for my misjudgement of you, and thank you for your care of Brother Aidan. It seems that having fallen amongst robbers he was then met by the Good Samaritan."

Damien looked squarely at the young man beside him, and to his chagrin found that he had to bite his lip to keep himself from smiling. The reprobate who had received reproof and news of punishment stony faced had now blushed a fiery red at praise and hung his head. He turned to practical matters, sensing rightly that further commendation would be unwelcome.

"Two matters seem to me to be of the utmost importance. Firstly it seems we have, at the very least, a mischief worker amongst us, and most likely a traitor against His Majesty's peace. Secondly, and perhaps I should not say this, but as importantly at least to me, there is the matter of Brother Aidan's well being. What has been done to him, as indeed to you, is an appalling evil. You have acted with great sense so far, do you have any suggestions as to how we should now proceed?"

Edwin vowed to himself that as soon as opportunity presented itself he would learn whatever spell it was that allowed one to prevent the fiery blush that again was covering his face. But really, he could barely remember someone ever asking his advice for anything more important than the choice of alehouse, let alone anyone in authority. Avoiding punishment had seemed to be the best he could hope for, though in fairness he had usually deserved it. Another bit of his father's advice came into his head, useful for once, If anyone gi'es ye a chance, grab it wi' both your hands. He took a deep breath and looked back at Canon Damien.

"Father, I believe that the first problem is being dealt with by another of us who holds the Bishop's commission," he held out his own to emphasise his point, "the other is more difficult and I pray that you will forgive my presumption. I am pitifully unskilled in Deryni ways, and I would not dare meddle any further in Brother Aidan's mind for fear of further harm ..." His voice trailed off, aware that he might well be about to lose the approbation he had managed to gain.

"Well..." The Canon's voice was patient but held the authority of one used to obedience in it.

"You may know of those who could help him, but there is one I know of who is both learned, skilled and discreet. And she has suffered for who she is." Once again not daring to meet the Canon's eye Edwin rushed to finish his words before his courage gave out, "She is Gwendolyn, the Dean's niece. You asked for my advice, I would suggest that you seek her help."

[Jerusha]

Friday, just before noon
Master Collos' large safe house
Grecotha

Elspeth entered the safehouse with Amy by her side. Sir Airich had brought Elspeth back to the safehouse and, once his horse was settled, departed immediately with Father Trevor for Saint Willibrord's Church to Portal to Rhemuth. The women had stayed behind; it would draw less attention if they did not accompany them to the church. Sir Airich would return as soon as the king granted permission. Father Trevor hoped to return with him to assist with the arrests of the Custodes priests. They would count him among their number unless it turned out otherwise. Elspeth was not quite sure how she would feel if he did not return.

It would be pointless to worry about it. They had work to do. She pulled a wax tablet and a stylus from her satchel and handed them to Amy.

"Would you record the results of our planning?" she asked her friend. "Best to ensure everyone is clear on whatever role they are to play."

"Of course," Amy responded and straightened her shoulders a bit. Elspeth nodded her approval.

Lords Collos and Thane were seated at the kitchen table, a cardounet board and pieces placed in the middle of the table. As Elspeth seated herself, she heard the door open again.

"Ah, Guardsman Taylor joins us," Collos announced.

"I have orders from the Bishop to work with the investigators, independent of the Purple Guard and reporting directly to the Bishop," Jimmy said as he strode forward and held a chair for Amy to be seated. "That reporting will occur at my discretion, of course."

"Of course," Collos acknowledged. "Now we must get to the business at hand. I think the five of us can safely speak for all, at least at this stage of the planning. There will be room for refinement, but not a lot of time for it."

Elspeth motioned toward the cardounet board. "If I may?"

Collos nodded, but looked perplexed.

Elspeth took the king, the queen, both rooks and one bishop and spaced them evenly at the top of the board. "Lord Thane, you told us there are five Custodes priests involved. Who are they?"

"Two are parish priests, and three are seminary priests. The two ringleaders are in the seminary. Father Theo and Father Robert are these men. They are well respected by the seminary students and could hold sway over many."

"This will be Father Theo then," Elspeth said, touching the king. "The queen can represent Father Robert."

Amy had made five x's at the top of the tablet. She was well used to the way the physicker tended to work things out. She labeled the first Fr. Theo and the second Fr. Robert.

"The third seminarian is Father Gilbert." Thane paused. "He's a bit more elusive than the other two. One who tends to avoid notice, if he can."

"Then one to be watched closely," Jimmy interjected.

Elspeth moved the bishop to be next in line following the queen. "Father Gilbert." Two rooks remained. "That leaves us with the parrish priests."

"Father Rastus and Father Weyland," Thane supplied. "Not as influential as the seminarians, but well-enough loved in their parishes. It does not necessarily make them less dangerous."

"Any Custodes is dangerous," Collos said emphatically.

"We need to determine who is the best choice for each target," Espeth said thoughtfully. "As you said previously Lord Thane, we need a trained Deryni in all five parties. We also need an investigator in each, as we hold the warrants. Thoughts?"

"Our Deryni are Lords Collos and Thane, Master Darius, Sir Airich, Father Trevor, Master Edwin and Mistress Amy," Jimmy said. "And myself," he added, almost as an afterthought. "Amy and Edwin have the least training, but we have enough trained Deryni to pair them with someone more skilled."

Elspeth took the remaining bishop, the two knights and four of the pawns and placed them together in the centre of the board. "I am Human, so I think it would be best if I was assigned to one of the parish priests. I think I would feel more comfortable if one of the more skilled Deryni worked with me."

"I would be happy to assist," volunteered Lord Thane.

Elspeth took one pawn from Deryni grouping, added one of the unassigned pawns and placed them behind Father Rastus.

"Perhaps Father Trevor and I could take Father Weyland," Amy piped up. She had been silent until now. "Being a priest as well as Deryni could be helpful."

"A good idea Mistress, and you have worked with Father Trevor before," Collos said in agreement.

Elspeth moved a Deryni pawn behind Father Weyland and added a second pawn for Amy.

"I would suggest Darius for Father Gilbert," Collos said.

Elspeth picked up a knight and moved it behind Father Gilbert's bishop.

"Bede would be a good fit, in case Father Gilbert is indeed dangerous," Elspeth suggested. She had long ago stopped doubting her protector's skills. There were no objections, and she added a pawn beside it.

"Who would you prefer, Collos?" Lord Thane asked.

Elspeth was relieved she did not have to make a suggestion.

"I'll take Father Robert." Collos helped himself to the remaining bishop and placed it behind Robert's queen.

"Sir Airich would be a good fit," Amy said. "No one has worked more closely together than you two."

"Well thought out," Collos said with a smile as he moved a knight beside his bishop.

"Now you, Guardsman Taylor," Elspeth said as she picked up the remaining knight. "Could you take the role of knight against Father Theo?"

"I think I could manage that," Jimmy responded dryly. Was he imagining things, or did that bright blue eye sparkle a bit?

"That leaves Edwin to join you, which is perfect," Amy stated. "In addition to being Deryni, he is becoming a skilled orator. He may be able to counteract Father Theo's influence." She moved Edwin's rook beside the knight.

Jimmy took a hard look at the board and the pieces on it. "We need more men," he flatly stated. "Any of these priests could have a guard we are unaware of."

"How many more men?" Collos asked.

"I would like to see at least two for each team. I can get some men from the Purple Watch, but I have little influence in the City Guard."

"Didn't Bede work with Captain Phineas in tracking down Lady Gwendolyn after she was kidnapped?" Amy looked at Elspeth, who nodded. "He may be able to convince the Captain to add men from the Watch."

A general murmur of agreement passed around the table. They started to stir as if preparing to stand.

"We still have a major issue to address," Collos stated. Everyone looked at him and sat still. "Bishop Bernard must be convinced to allow the investigators to arrest the priests. Without his consent, we will fail with dire consequences.

Jimmy Taylor looked thoughtful. "There may be a way to persuade him that he won't question. At least not much. If orders for the arrests were to come under Archbishop Duncan's signature and seal, I don't think there is a way Bernard can refuse."

"Can we convince the Archbishop in time?" Thane asked, looking hopeful.

"I can think of the one person who can. Leave it with me."

Sir Iain Cameron rose, and with a slight bow, left the kitchen. He was already withdrawing the medallion that would enable his contact with King Kelson.

[Bynw]

Friday just past noon
Grecotha

The sun hung high barely starting its way westward, shadows all but absent on the cobbled streets of Grecotha. The rains had ended the day before, leaving the air thick and heavy, the stones still damp beneath Father Robert's boots. The city smelled of wet stone, old incense, and secrets.

He moved with purpose, his black cassock brushing against the walls of narrow alleys. Grecotha bustled in the bright light—students debated beneath the arches of Saint Peter's Hall, merchants shouted over one another in the square, and the cathedral bells of Saint Paul's would not toll again until the hour of None. But beneath the surface, something darker stirred.

The Church had grown soft. The Deryni, with their cursed blood and arcane gifts, had wormed their way into every corner of power. The Custodes would see them purged—root and branch.

His first stop was the seminary of Saint Augustine, where Father Gilbert taught rhetoric and canon law. Robert found him in the cloister garden, pruning a rose bush with deliberate care.

"Brother," Robert said, his voice low.

Gilbert turned, eyes narrowing. He saw the iron ring—blackened and etched with the winged lion gave a slight nod. Robert handed him a folded parchment, sealed in red wax.

Gilbert's fingers lingered on the seal. "Is it time?"

Robert said nothing. The silence was answer enough.

Next, he made his way to the Chapel of Saint Thomas, tucked between a vintner's shop and a crumbling bookbinder. Father Rastus greeted him at the door, his smile too warm, too rehearsed.

"Peace be with you, Father," Rastus said.

"And with your spirit," Robert replied, pressing a small leather pouch into his hand. Inside: a map of the Wilimite caches and a vial of Byzantyun fire, sealed in wax and wrapped in linen.

Rastus's smile faltered. "The Wilimites are ready. But the city—"

"Will burn," Robert said. "And from the ashes, truth will rise."

The final stop was Saint Jude's, a poor parish clinging to the southern wall of the city. Father Weyland met him in the sacristy, where the air still smelled of old myrrh and damp stone.

"The Willimites will be blamed," Weyland said, voice hushed.

"That they shall," Robert replied. "And it will cause panic throughout the Kingdom."

He handed over the final scroll, marked with the Custodes' sigil. Weyland kissed it like a relic.

As Robert stepped back into the light, the sun had visibly moved from overhead, casting Grecotha in a golden haze. Children laughed in the streets. A baker's boy chased a dog past the steps of Saint Mary's. The city was alive, unaware.

By nightfall, it would be a pyre.

[Nezz]

Friday noon
Rhemuth Castle
Rhemuth

"Finally! Rhemuth!" Trevor said, while Airich quelled the queasiness that came from several portal jumps in quick succession. "I'll get one of the King's pages to inform him you're here in response to his summons, then I'll let Captain Ralson know about the prisoners in Grecotha who need transport. You get to Father's quarters and get cleaned up and shaved; I've asked to borrow Dashell so he should be there already. Find me when you're ready and I'll go in with you."

Airich didn't need to be told twice; he could still feel dried blood encrusted between his toes. He hurried to the Derry apartments and was met by both of his brother Seamus' sons.

"There's the old man," Michael O'Flynn exclaimed, coming out from the bedroom. Freshly knighted, Michael was all of two years younger than Airich. The two had been thick as thieves growing up, what with Airich's own siblings being so much older than him.

Thirteen-year-old Dashell followed his older brother. "Uncle Trevor said you needed a good scrub-down and a clean tunic," he said. He'd been squired to Sir Jadon Vaudemont just last year and likely knew his business by now, even if he didn't have his older brother to order him around.

"But fast," Airich said, pulling off his worn tunic as he moved across the room. The tub full of hot water sat in front of the fire in the bedroom. "And do we have any of yesterday's bread?"

"Of course," Michael said, following him into the bedroom. "Can't have you spewing in front of His Majesty due to portal-tum; it'd put the entire family in a bad light."

The three of them working together had Airich ready to be presented before the King in short order. He now wore a clean white shirt over his mail with a blue-on-blue tunic on top. Gray leggings and good, knee-high riding boots completed the look. Michael looked over Airich's white belt before buckling it on him.

"Those are new stains," he commented as he hung Airich's sword at the older knight's side. "That have anything to do with that knife wound in your belly?"

"You'll get all the details when I have a couple hours to spare, promise" Airich said, gulping down a bite of cheese, now that his stomach was settled.

"When Father got shot last week, his blood—"

"What?" Airich twisted his head, prompting a hey! from Dashell, who was braiding his hair. "Who shot him? And how is he?"

"Did you not hear about that?" Michael asked. "He got shot with a merasha-tipped arrow while escorting a caravan through the Bearncoill Pass. They were rumored to be Willimites. I don't think any of your friends were involved, though."

"Trevor neglected to mention this incident. Is he all right now?"

"Oh yeah, Kelric portaled in and had him up and running in no time. He's just fine now."

At least his oldest brother had not been left helpless in the hands of those who meant him ill. Airich was grateful for that, and thankful for yet another Morgan brother and their healing gifts.

"Anything else you need, Uncle Airich?" Dashell asked, tying off the club he'd put Airich's braid into. The young squire had denounced Airich's normal loose warrior's knot as insufficiently grand for a meeting with the King.

"I don't think so. I'll make sure to tell Sir Jadon you did a fine job." Airich gulped down the last bite of cheese. "We'll talk later," he assured Michael, then ran back toward the hall to find Trevor.

Airich found Trevor in the courtyard, just outside the enormous bronze doors that led into the great hall; he was surprised to discover Archbishop Duncan leaning on the priest's arm. "...You can speak with my clerk afterward, and he should be able to get those to you," Duncan was saying as Airich approached and knelt before the old man, kissing his ring as he did so.

"And young Airich. How are you doing today?" Duncan motioned for Airich to rise.

There weren't many men who could call the knight "young Airich" to his face and not have a problem on his hands, but Archbishop Duncan was in a category all his own. "I'm mostly recovered, Your Grace." Airich assumed that Duncan had already heard about the incident yesterday. "Just anxious to see what the King needs from me and then get back to Grecotha. We still have much work to do there."

"I've discovered a small bit of bad news," Trevor said. "Seems Sir Jamyl had been keeping the King appraised of the events in Grecotha yesterday, including your being missing for most of the day, but later after the excitement was all over, Jamyl was seeing to Charity's well-being—she was quite distraught, I can tell you that much—and, well, he forgot to tell the King you'd been found alive until many hours later. So... His Majesty is not in the best of moods this morning."

"That's not so good. Although... I don't even know what he wants to see me about," Airich admitted, after realizing that Trevor had never mentioned a reason for the King's summons. "I don't know that he has any reasons to be upset with me."

Trevor looked away as Duncan patted his hand. "Don't worry about his temper. Just speak openly and plainly to your King. Give him full and honest answers and I'm sure you'll be just fine. And speaking of just fine, may I...?" Duncan put his fingers towards Airich's temple and looked at him questioningly.

Airich responded by opening himself up to the Archbishop's psychic touch. He felt Duncan glide through his mind, looking but not disturbing anything. He went in deeper than Airich would have preferred, but the knight had grown accustomed to people wandering through his head, and this, at least, was a man he trusted implicitly.

From his particular vantage point, Airich noticed Sean within his head, staying silent and avoiding Duncan's probes. He hadn't heard Sean say anything since the end of yesterday's ritual, and it seemed curious that his father would avoid the notice of such a good friend as Duncan. Perhaps later Airich would ask him about it.

Whatever he was looking for, Duncan seemed satisfied after a few minutes and stepped back. "Thank you, my son," he said as Airich rose to his feet. "We should go in now."

Airich took Duncan's other arm, then he and Trevor assisted the elderly man into the great hall. Within, Kelson, King of Gwynedd, was taking petitions. Airich took a moment to look carefully at the King. He looked much as Airich had always seen him: an intense man, just past his prime but filled with strength of character that few could match. Swaths of white swept through his thick coal-black hair, and his grey Haldane eyes held wrinkles of wisdom at the corners and above his brow. And yet, within those eyes, Airich saw the face of a young child, trusting himself into the hands of a stranger introduced by his father, who would never allow the boy to come to harm. He saw the face of a newly crowned King, having survived his first trial by magic. The face of a young man, setting aside the hopes of his heart to marry a queen worthy of Gwynedd.

The many faces of Kelson over the years ran through Airich's vision as he listened to the King pronounce penalty on the lawyer who had misused his position to cheat several members of the cheesemaker's guild. He couldn't help but feel a little bit bad for the lawyer, despite the fact his punishment fit the crime: no one wanted King Kelson's eye of judgment cast upon him.

"We will recess before taking the next case," Kelson told his page, who repeated this information loudly throughout the hall. He looked over towards Duncan and nodded almost imperceptibly. He then stood, stepped off his dais, and strode to his withdrawing room.

"Let us follow, my lords," Duncan said, steering the two brothers toward the exit the King had taken, where they were admitted without question.