High Deryni by Katherine Kurtz Read Free Book Online

eleven bishops sitting in conclave at Coroth still have not gleaned a twelfth: a requirement that is as firmly fixed in our canon law as any dogma of faith. The eleven at Coroth cannot bind you or anyone else unless they gain a twelfth.”
    â€œA twelfth—by God, you’re right!” Kelson exclaimed, scrambling upright to snatch up the offending documents and stare at them again. “How could I have forgotten?”
    Morgan smiled and returned to his chair, where a half-finished cup of wine awaited him. “It is understandable, my prince. You are not as accustomed to anathema as we are. Remember that Duncan and I have been truly and legally excommunicated for nearly three months now, and are little the worse for wear—which brings us back to our original discussion.”
    â€œYes, of course.” Kelson got to his feet and returned to his chair, still shaking his head as he stared at the documents in his hand. Duncan, too, returned to the circle of chairs and sat down, helping himself to a small apple as Kelson finally put the parchment sheaf aside.
    â€œWhat you are implying, then,” the king said, “is that this makes it all the more urgent that you get to Dhassa as quickly as possible. Am I correct?”
    â€œYou are, my prince,” Morgan said with a nod.
    â€œBut suppose Arilan’s colleagues won’t follow his lead? They are our only hope for reconciliation with the rest of the clergy, and if they should fail us, especially with this new Interdict and excommunication hanging over us—why, we’d never be able to make Loris and Corrigan listen.”
    Morgan made a steeple of his forefingers and tapped them lightly against his lips for a moment, then glanced at Duncan. The priest had not changed his relaxed position next to him, and appeared to be chewing unconcernedly on a bite of apple, but Morgan knew that he was thinking much the same thing. Unless they could eventually reach an agreement with Loris and Corrigan, the ringleaders of the curial hostility against Duncan and himself, Gwynedd was doomed. Once the spring flooding was done, Wencit of Torenth would be sweeping into Gwynedd along the Rheljan Range, using high Cardosa as a base. And with internal factions warring in the south and no reinforcements available, it would be a relatively simple matter to cut off Kelson’s three armies and destroy them at leisure. The controversy in Corwyn must be resolved, and soon.
    Morgan shifted forward in his chair and retrieved his helmet from the floor where he had dropped it. “We shall do the best we can, my prince. In the meantime, what are your plans while we’re gone? I know how this inactivity must be fretting you.”
    Kelson studied a ruby on his forefinger and shook his head. “It is.” He looked up and managed a slight smile. “But for the time being, I shall just have to put up with my impatience and stand where I am, won’t I? As soon as you have reached agreement with the Six in Dhassa, will you send word?”
    â€œCertainly. And we are still agreed on our rendezvous point?”
    â€œYes—and I should like to send Derry north for part of the way with you, too, if you don’t mind. I need word of the three armies.”
    â€œAgreed.” Morgan nodded, fingering the chin strap of his helmet. “If you like, we can arrange for you to keep in touch with him through his medallion, the way we did before. Is that agreeable?”
    â€œOf course. Perhaps Father Duncan could brief him, then, and make preparations for you to leave. You’ll need fresh horses, supplies….”
    â€œI’ll be happy to see to it, Sire,” Duncan said, draining the last of his wine and picking up his helmet as he got to his feet. “I shall look in on Bishop Istelyn and reassure him, as well.”
    Kelson stared after the departing priest for a long moment, then returned his gaze to Morgan, studying the trim form