"Katherine Kurtz - 02 - King's Justice" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kurtz Katherine)

"She only brought Liam. She said Ronal was too ill to travel, so she'd left him in the charge of Mahael of Arjenol. Liam swore his oaths dutifully enough, but something didn't seem quite right. With Ronal under Mahael's control, I was afraid he might use my absence as an excuse to raise trouble to our east. I can't risk that if I'm to be in Meara all summer."
"I quite agree," Richenda said. "You're concerned, then, that Morag and Liam are Deryni, and might work mischief here in Rhemuth while you're away."
"Or simply escape," Kelson answered, amazed, as always, at her immediate grasp of all the ramifications. "I've set Arilan to working out precautions against that for now- and I doubt Liam will be much problem, though he's going to be very powerful when he's grown. Right now, he's still a little boy; he'll be playing with Payne and Rory before a week is out."
"Aye, that's very likely true," Richenda agreed. "Morag, however, is not a child."
"Good God, no! And she hates me. If I had any doubts about that, I don't any longer. I suppose I'm most concerned that, in trying to escape, she might try to subvert the servants. I don't think she could construct a Portal without assistance-"
Richenda shook her head at Kelson's look of question.
"Nay, few could."
"So that means that any other kind of escape attempt would almost have to involve others," Kelson finished.
"That's easy enough to prevent," Richenda said.
Kelson smiled wanly. "I was hoping you'd say that. In the meantime, I should imagine she'll eventually want the company of other women-at least after a while. You'd be in a perfect position to see that she doesn't get out of line."
"So," Richenda said, in a tone that softened the potential bite of her words, "I'm to be the guardian of two Deryni queens. I don't mind," she added, at Kelson's look of dismay. "At least Morag isn't ashamed of what she is."
"Nor would she have any reluctance to use what she is to improve her lot," Morgan said, capturing a giggling Briony by one bare foot before she could crawl out of reach. "As Wencit's sister, her training was probably incredible. I want you to be careful, Richenda."
Richenda smiled and laced her fingers together on her knee. "With all due respect, my lord, I suspect the Lady Morag and I may have shared some of the same masters. I had finished a letter to one of them only moments before you and Kelson came into the garden." She picked up one of the scrolls and dropped it on Kelson's stomach. "I had that from him a few days ago. It's a contemporary account of Saint Camber's death at Iomaire."
Kelson lurched to a sitting position and opened the scroll. "Camber's death," he breathed, scanning the closely penned lines. "Any mention of his burial place?"
"The MacRorie family vaults at Caerrorie," Richenda replied, "now in ruins. The body isn't there anymore, of course."
"Destroyed when his sainthood was rescinded?"
Shaking her head, Richenda picked up another scroll. "No. At the time he was declared a saint, it was believed he'd been bodily assumed into heaven, as befitted one of the blessed. His son, however, claimed he'd moved the body to another resting place-though he never would say where. He was a priest. For some reason, though, he was always against the canonization."
"Bad blood between father and son?" Morgan asked, scooping the wiggling Briony under one arm as he scooted closer to inspect the scroll over Kelson's shoulder.
"Gracious, no. They were devoted."
"Listen to this, you two," Kelson murmured, reading from the scroll. "So did Joram MacRorie and the Vicar of the Michaelines return from the field of battle with the body of the slain Earl Camber..." He looked up. "Who were the Michaelines?"
"A militant order of priest-knights," Richenda replied. "Joram and several other Deryni important in the Restoration are said to have been of that order. The vicar mentioned is Father Alister Cullen, later the last Deryni bishop."
"Well, not the very last," Morgan said with a grin, shifting Briony to his shoulder. "We know of at least two since then."
Kelson snorted and continued scanning down the scroll.
"Damn, I wish we didn't have to campaign in Meara this summer! This is fascinating. Who did you say had sent it?"
"I didn't, but his name is Azim. He's-" She cocked her head at the leaves above their heads as she searched for the right relationship. "He's my cousin's husband's uncle- which must make him some kind of relative by marriage, but I haven't the foggiest notion what he'd be. I've always called him uncle, but I know that isn't right. What's more important for our purposes is his affiliation with the Knights of the Anvil, down in Djellarda. Have you heard of them, Sire?"
Kelson nodded. "Hospitaller knights of some sort, aren't they? They guard the routes to the Holy Land. Very ferocious fighters, and not entirely Christian."
"Very good." Richenda smiled. "They're said to have sprung from Moorish interaction with fled Knights of Saint Michael after the Michaeline expulsion from Gwynedd in 917. Incidentally, Anviler tradition has it that Camber, at the insistence of his son Joram, was buried in Michaeline habit- which was dark blue," she added, glancing at Morgan. "And the Servants of Saint Camber, the religious order that was founded to venerate him, wore grey."
Morgan looked up abruptly and whistled low under his breath, and Kelson went a little pale.
"I know," Richenda murmured. "It fits the pattern of every instance of possible Camberian intervention that we know of."
Swallowing a little nervously, Kelson let the scroll roll back on itself and handed it back to Richenda.
"I'd better not read any more of this right now, or tomorrow I'll be heading east instead of west. This is incredible! Do you think the Knights of the Anvil know where Camber is buried?"
"No. But through them, we may eventually be able to find out."
"And this Azim is one of them?" Kelson asked.
She nodded.
"Well, when you next communicate with him, please tell him it's very important to me," Kelson said, gesturing toward the letters. "And send me progress reports while we're on campaign, if you can."
"I shall, Sire."
She would have continued, but Nigel came into the garden at that moment with Conall, Payne, and Brendan, obviously looking for Kelson. Both Conall and Nigel wore riding leathers. Brendan pretended to be very matter-of-fact about being included in the prince regent's entourage, stiff and correct in his page's livery, but he grinned ear-to-ear as Richenda and Morgan gave him grave nods of approval.
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything too important," Nigel said, as Kelson twisted to look up at him, "but those new lancers have finally arrived from Carthmoor. I thought you might like to inspect them and meet their officers before they unsaddle and scatter for the evening. I wasn't sure they'd get here in time to go with you tomorrow."
"Well, I suppose I'd better come and have a look, hadn't I?" Kelson said, setting Richenda's scroll aside and getting to his feet. "My lady, I apologize for dragging your lord away to play the soldier, but I think he probably ought to see them, too, since both our lives may depend upon them."
Smiling, Richenda reached out to take Briony from Morgan, she and Morgan both having to disengage the baby's hand from Morgan's captain-general's chain.
"I would not dream of interfering with my lord's duties, Sire," she said, standing. "Besides, I have duties of my own, I think. I shall be most interested to meet the Princess Morag and her young son."
She scooped up the sealed letters and held them out to Conall, who took them with a bow. "Please see that those go to a messenger at once, would you, Conall? You can do it on your way out with His Majesty. And Payne-perhaps you would be so kind as to return these scrolls and writing materials to my chambers."
Young Payne, clearly delighted to be included in the notice of the beautiful Richenda, flushed bright red and bowed.
And Conall, following Brendan and the adults out of the garden toward the castle yard, fingered the letters in his hand thoughtfully, turning them over and over in his hands.


CHAPTER SEVEN
For they have consulted together with one consent; they are confederate against thee.
-Psalms 83:5
The Haldane host left Rhemuth the next morning. Nor did news of their advance toward Meara take long to reach the rebel leaders in Ratharkin. Before Kelson and his army had ridden a day's march west, rebel spies on fleet R'Kassan steeds were carrying the news in relays across the western Gwynedd plain and through the mountain passes of Cuilteine and Droghera.