In the King's Service by Katherine Kurtz Read Free Book Online

transept. The door was locked, but it yielded quickly to his Deryni touch.
    Inside, he closed the door behind him and summoned handfire to augment the light of the Presence lamp burning above the tabernacle behind the sacristy’s vesting altar. By their combined light, he could easily make out the design set into the tessellated pavement covering the center of the floor. Stepping onto it, he composed his thoughts and focused his intent, visualizing his destination.
    In an eye-blink, he was standing in the Portal outside the chamber where the Camberian Council met. Michon was waiting just outside, dressed all in black and looking uncharacteristically sinister.
    “All’s well, I take it?” Michon murmured.
    Seisyll nodded, also inviting for Michon to step onto the Portal with him.
    “Two monks praying in the chapel where they’ve put Sief’s coffin,” he replied. “I brought Benjamin to light the way. He’s settled to keep watch outside the chapel while we do what needs to be done.”
    Merely grinning, Michon turned his back on Seisyll and allowed the other to set hands on his shoulders, eyes closing as he opened his mind to the other’s direction. A moment’s vague disorientation as the link was made—and then they were standing in the still-deserted sacristy at Rhemuth Cathedral. Quickly the pair glided to the door, scanned outside, then made their way back among the shadowed columns to where Seisyll’s servant kept watch outside the mortuary chapel.
    Seisyll said nothing as he set a hand on the servant’s shoulder, probing briefly for an update. No one had come, and the monks had not ceased their chanting.
    With a glance at Michon, Seisyll started into the chapel, making no attempt at stealth as he headed toward one of the monks, aware that Michon was advancing more silently on the other while attention was turned toward Seisyll. Within seconds, both monks nodded deeper in prayer, oblivious to their surroundings. With a glance back at Benjamin, who now would intercept anyone heading toward the chapel and give warning, the two Deryni turned their attention to the coffin where lay the mortal remains of Sief MacAthan.
    He lay silent and pale in his funeral garb, a gauzy veil drawn across his face. As Michon ran the flat of one palm above the dead man’s chest, Seisyll started to lift the veil for a closer look. In that instant, a forlorn sob barked across the length of the chapel from where Benjamin knelt just outside: his signal that someone was coming.
    Hastily Seisyll drew back his hand and crossed himself to cover the movement, keeping his head bowed, at the same time sending instructions to the entranced monks to resume their formal prayers. Michon likewise bowed his head, withdrawing his hand. Seconds later, several more monks came into the chapel: obviously the relief for the ones still kneeling to either side of the coffin, who were blinking in surprise and a trace of guilt at having dozed at their posts.
    No words were exchanged as the monks changed places, but Seisyll sensed that any attempt to remain longer would lead to questions best unasked and unanswered. After crossing himself again, he bowed to the new monks and headed out of the chapel, Michon silently following. With the first set of monks loitering in the nave to see where they would go, the pair had no choice but to leave, beckoning for Benjamin to join them. Outside, as they followed the servant’s torch back toward the castle, they spoke mind to mind as they revised their battle plan.
    Poor timing, Michon sent.
    Aye, I would have preferred a bit more leisure.
    There was time to sense a first impression, came Michon’s reply. He did not die easily.
    A rebellious heart can be a treacherous thing, Seisyll answered. Are you hinting that it was something more?
    I don’t know. I need a closer look.
    Seisyll’s violet gaze swept the shadows as they continued climbing the castle mount. Difficult, he sent after a moment. They plan to bury him in