The rest of that short November day was somewhat anti-climactic after the liveliness of the earlier afternoon. King Kelson sensibly retired to his apartments with General Morgan and a strong guard to guarantee their privacy. Queen Jehana sulked in her rooms and the rest of the court retreated to their own quarters ostensibly to rest and prepare for the ceremonies of the morrow. But there was a constant traffic between the apartments as courtiers eagerly spread the latest rumors. One such brought Joscelin to the MacAthans' quarters reckless of his aunt's displeasure.

"A guard dead down in the vaults," he spat too furious to sit, "with the outline of a gryphon sketched in his own blood by his head - how could even the greatest fool in Gwynedd believe such idiocy?"

"Howell wasn't in his apartment when I called," Cathan said meditatively, "but I was able to establish that the portal in his chamber is both active and recently used."

"Well now we know where he was and what he was doing," Joscelin said resignedly dropping into a chair.

"The Howells again!" Seffira shook her head, unconsciously echoing her son's sentiments. "Will they never learn?"

The Master was thinking along other lines. "Ian was obviously carrying magical potential which Charissa has activated… Just as her father did Rorik's," he mused. "The discovery of a previously unsuspected access to magic seems to be an irresistible temptation."

Aoibhell, who'd been quietly moving around in the background, tending to minor duties, looked up at that. "It is a heady experience," she said seriously. "If one should be found by somebody like Charissa instead of the Circle, my lord -" She shook her head thinking of her own careful training in ethics as well as spell-crafting.

"Yes," he agreed grimly.

"So the way to prevent further trouble from Eastmarch is to take the next Earl into our Circle," Seffira said. "The Council will have a fit."

Cathan smiled: "A point in that plan's favor."

Joscelin laughed finally relaxing a little. "I guess all that really matters is that Morgan is safely locked up with Kelson free to do what has to be done before tomorrow."

"Yes," Cathan agreed, "after tomorrow it will be quite clear that Morgan is innocent."

Joscelin stood to go. "I can't wait." he hesitated, looked at the Master for reassurance. "Kelson will win won't he, once he has the power?"

"I think it's quite clear it is God's will Haldanes not Festils rule in Gwynedd." Cathan answered.

…..

Princess Roxana turned her pillow over and settled against the cool linen. How could she possibly sleep with her cousin, just down the hall, undergoing an empowerment ritual so he could face an evil sorceress in a duel arcane to the death tomorrow? Wait, was that Joscelin's voice? She sat up, listening. Yes, it was. Her brother was talking to somebody in solar. She rolled out of bed and padded to the door picking up a thick shawl on her way.

Joscelin stood outlined in light in the doorway to the corridor facing a tense, worried looking guard. "- some trouble," the man was saying, "best your highness - your highnesses -" he amended spotting Roxana, "stay in your quarters -"

To the devil with that! Before either her brother or the guard could move to stop her Roxana darted past them and flew down the hall as fast as her bare feet could carry her ignoring the cries of "Roxana!" and "Your highness!" behind her.

A knot of courtiers filled the passage to Kelson's rooms arguing with further guards politely blocking the way. Roxana dodged her way between the adults, ducked under the crossed halberds and around the corner - and skidded to a horrified stop.

The corridor outside Kelson's door was littered with bodies and liberally splashed with blood. Duke Alaric came out of the prince's apartments and bent over the nearest of the bodies. Roxana ran past him into Kelson's bedroom. There were more bodies and more blood and her cousin alive and unwounded energetically arguing with a guard officer.

"Kel!" she flung herself into his arms, choking back a sob of relief.

"Roxana? what are you doing here?" he demanded.

"It's kind of hard to sleep with people rushing around the halls shouting questions," Joscelin said from the doorway. "We were told to stay in our quarters but -"

"I was scared for you," Roxana snuffled into her cousin's shoulder.

"I'd ask what happened but it's pretty obvious," Joscelin continued, glancing at the body at Kelson's feet, with a hand still on the haft of the dagger in his chest. "Who were they?"

"Vassals of General Morgan," Kelson answered, "something about a murdered guard."

Joscelin nodded. "I heard. Found in the vaults with a gryphon drawn in his own blood by his head."

Kelson's expression shifted through shock to total disgust. "Of all the ridiculous, obvious frauds!"

Roxana finally pulled away, wiping her eyes with a corner of her shawl. "No offense, Kelson, but I think your court is totally insane."

"I agree with you," he answered. His head turned at the sound of his mother's voice raised shrilly in the corridor outside. "Now what?"

They found a predictably angry Tante-Jehane confronting a slightly desperate looking General Morgan amid a crowd of interested onlookers. "I think you owe me an explanation before I have you arrested and executed for murder," she was saying.

"Morgan has given sufficient explanation for me, Mother." Kelson interrupted sharply crossing to stand beside the Deryni Duke. "And there will be no arrests or executions here without my direct order. Is that clear." He swept the assembled lords with his icy grey gaze. "Gentlemen, you wonder at this night's attempt on my life. So do I. And no doubt we all will be satisfied as to the details in due time. But I warn you. Any further attempt to interfere with me in the next hours before my coronation will be considered treasonous. I shall tolerate no further questioning of either Morgan's loyalty or my judgement. Is that clear? Disobey me, and you shall learn just how well my father taught me to be King of Gwynedd!"

The assorted lords bowed acknowledgment looking suitably intimidated. Not Aunt Jehana. She glared defiantly at her son.

"Would you defy me in something this important, Kelson," she hissed in a voice barely above a whisper. "Something I so strongly believe to be wrong?"

Well, yes. Suddenly Kelson looked very tired. "Go back to your chambers, Mother, please. I don't wish to argue with you in front of my court." He turned to address the captain of the guard. "Captain, I am retiring for night - again. Will you please see I am not disturbed? General Morgan will stay with me."

"Yes, your majesty!"

Still in full kingly mode Kelson addressed the rest of the assembly; "and you, gentlemen, Mother, cousins, I shall see you all in the morning. In the meantime I suggest we all get some rest. Tomorrow will be no ordinary day." with that he turned on his heel and swept into his rooms, Duke Alaric following like a shadow. The door closed and they all heard the bolt click home.

Tante-Jehane heaved an angry, frustrated sigh, turned and marched down the hall towards the stairs. The rest of the group melted away in various directions. Roxana and Joscelin followed in their aunt's wake at a safe distance.

'God, I hope this business didn't interrupt the working.' Joscelin sent silently.

'I think they've done it. Kelson felt totally drained.' his sister responded.

Joscelin considered. 'I think you're right. He had shields, he never had them before.'

…..

Joscelin stood on the dais scanning the crowd of notables waiting in the warmth of the Great Hall for the processions to St. George's to begin. The morning sunlight streaming through the tall southern windows glittered on gems set in rings and collars and coronets of rank and burnished the bullion embroidery on heavy velvet mantles of state edged with ermine and miniver. Joscelin himself wore the traditional white and golden robes of a High Deryni Lord with the ship and crescent of Bremagne emblazoned on his chest in black pearls and opals, garnets and rubies. His golden mantle was studded with silver crescents and stars. He was looking for Cathan of Travlum. Finally his eye fell on a cluster of Haldane crimson robes standing together in the opening of one of the northern bays near the great doors and recognized Cathan with Seffira beside him in her royal blue lioncel studded mantle, talking to the Countesses of Carbury and Nyford. Joscelin gathered his train over his arm and plunged into the crowd.

"Nizari Assassins?" Maelora of Carbury repeated agitatedly twisting the ermine border of her state robe between ringed hands. "Thank God you are all all right!"

"All right but we're going to have some explaining to do after the coronation," Cathan said drily.

"Rhodri is not going to be at all happy with the state of our chambers," his Duchess agreed.

"Clearly Charissa does not discount you as an opponent," Dorothea of Nyford observed, "but she seems to have somewhat underrated you."

"Eastern mages have a habit of underestimating their western colleagues," Cathan was saying as Joscelin arrived in their midst.

"Cathan, you missed all the excitement last night!"

"Did I?" said the master, "what happened?"

Joscelin retailed the attack on Kelson's chambers with some gusto. "But at least we know that the empowerment is done." he finished.

"Been set," Dorothea corrected, "there should be one final trigger in the coronation ritual," she looked to Cathan for confirmation.

He nodded, "That is the usual procedure."

A white faced Kevin McLain pushed past some minor barons to join the group. "There you are Cathan, God it's horrible -" his voice broke. His listeners tensed, now what? "Somebody broke into the Cathedral crypt last night, they opened Brion's tomb stripped his body and left it lying on the floor. The guards' throats were cut and Rogier de Fallon is dead by his own hand, his face twisted as if he tried to fight the magic that made him do it."

"Magic?" the master echoed impassively.

"Oh yes," Kevin said grimly. "I know what Deryni can do. And I know what my brothers would never do!"

"They're blaming young Alaric of course," Maelora said resignedly.

Kevin swallowed. "Not just Alaric. Rogier had a crucifix in his left hand. I've seen it, it's Duncan's. And I'm not the only one who's recognized it."

"I wonder how Charissa got her hands on it," Seffira said.

Kevin turned to her in relief. "It was Charissa wasn't it? It had to be!"

"Of course it was, God help us." Seffira looked at her husband. "But why try to disrupt the coronation if she means to challenge Kelson?"

"Harrassment," Cathan answered. "And I'm not entirely sure Charissa has a plan beyond creating as much trouble and distress as possible."

"She can't possibly believe she's going to be crowned today even if she does kill Kelson." Dorothea said frowning.

Joscelin nodded agreement. "She knows about you, Cathan, and she knows my father won't let her usurp Kelson's throne unchallenged."

"And Gwynedd will never accept a Festil on the throne." Dorothea said firmly. "Charissa needs an army and she's not going to get one until spring. She's delusional."

Cathan shook his head. "Her goal isn't the throne it's revenge for her father. she doesn't care what happens to her afterwards.