Deryni Checkmate (35 page)

“It will bring the
wicked
to justice,” Loris began.

“It is not just!” Cardiel repeated, striking the table with the flat of his hand for emphasis. “I will not condone it! Further, if you persist in advocating the lowering of this Interdict, I shall withdraw from this assembly!”

“Then do it!” Loris said, standing in his place, his face going red. “If you think you can intimidate me with threats to withdraw your support from this Curia, you are mistaken! Dhassa is not the only city in the Eleven Kingdoms. If the Curia does not meet here, it will simply meet somewhere else. Either that, or else Dhassa will shortly have a new bishop!”

“Perhaps it is Valoret that needs a new bishop!” Wolfram said, rising to glare at Loris. “And as for me, my lord, I have no diocese from which you can threaten to remove me! While I live, I remain a bishop. And not you nor any man can take away that which came to me through God! Cardiel, I follow you!”

“This is insane!” Loris spluttered. “Do you think the two of you can defy this Curia?”

“There are more than two of us, my lord,” Arilan said, as he and then Tolliver stood and moved to Cardiel’s side.

Corrigan threw up his hands in dismay. “Lord, deliver us from men with causes! Are we now to be schooled by our juniors?”

“I am older than was Our Lord when he rebuked the scribes and the Pharisees,” Arilan replied coolly. “Siward? Gilbert? Do you stand with us? Or with Loris?”

The two glanced at one another, at Wolfram, then stood. “With you, my lord,” Siward said. “We like not this talk of Interdict.”

“Do you like rebellion better?” Loris hissed. “You realize that if you do this, I could suspend you all, I could even excommunicate you—”

“For disobedience?” Arilan snorted. “I hardly think that makes us anathema, my lord Archbishop. As for suspension—yes, that is within your prerogative, for we did promise obedience to you or your predecessor. But our actions will not be affected by your words. And we shall continue to minister to the people who depend upon us.”

“This is madness!” old Carsten whispered, searching them all with wide, rheumy eyes. “What can you hope to gain by it?”

“Say that we witness for our faith, my lord,” Tolliver said, “and that we attempt to preserve the rights of the flocks the Lord entrusted to our care. We will not see an entire duchy placed under Interdict because of the deeds of one or two men.”

“You will see it done here and now!” Loris raged. “Father Hugh, you have the instrument of Interdict ready for signature?”

Hugh’s face drained white as he stared up at Loris—he had long since ceased taking notes—but he pulled a parchment from the bottom of the pile with trembling fingers and handed it across to Loris.

“Now,” Loris said, taking Hugh’s pen and signing his name with a flourish. “I hereby declare the Duchy of Corwyn, with all its cities and inhabitants, under Interdict, until such time as Duke Alaric Morgan and his Deryni kinsman, Lord Duncan McLain, are taken into the custody of this Curia for disposition. Who will sign with me?”

“I will sign,” Corrigan said, pushing his way to Loris’s side and taking the pen.

“And I,” echoed de Lacey.

Cardiel watched in silence as Corrigan’s signature rasped across the page. “Have you given thought to what the king will say when he learns of your actions, Loris?” he asked.

“The king is an impotent child!” Loris retorted. “He will not resist the entire Gwynedd clergy—not when his own condition is so highly suspect. He, too, will obey the Interdict.”

“Will he?” said Arilan, leaning across the table in defiance. “He was not so impotent when he took control of the Regency Council last fall and freed Morgan, seated Lord Derry against your protests. Nor was he impotent when he defeated the sorceress Charissa to keep his throne. In fact, as I recall, it was you who were the impotent one then, my lord!”

Loris reddened and glanced sharply at de Lacey, who had halted, pen poised over the parchment, as Arilan spoke. “Sign, de Lacey,” he whispered, returning his stare to Arilan. “We shall see how many support this young upstart and how many prefer to support the side of truth.”

As de Lacey signed, eight of the other bishops made their way to Loris’s chair to sit and add their signatures to the document, only Bradene remaining in his place when all had finished. Loris stared at Bradene and furrowed his brow, started to smile as Bradene rose slowly to his feet and made a slight bow.

“I rise, my lord Archbishop,” he said quietly, “but not to sign your document.”

Cardiel and Arilan exchanged glances in amazement. Was the great Grecotha scholar going to come to their side after all?

“Nor can I join these esteemed gentlemen to my right,” Bradene continued. “For, while I do not support the Interdict for reasons of my own, neither can I bring myself to ally with men who would break with the Curia and destroy it—which is precisely what will happen if Bishop Cardiel and his colleagues carry out their threat to defy this assembly.”

“Then, what do you propose to do, my lord?” Tolliver asked.

Bradene shrugged. “I must abstain. And since abstention in this case is useless to either side, I shall retire to my scholastic community in Grecotha to pray for you all.”

“Bradene—” Loris began.

“No, Edmund, I shall not be swayed. Don’t worry. I shan’t be an embarrassment to you.”

As the entire assembly watched in amazement, Bradene bowed respectfully to both sides, then made his way out of the hall. As the door closed behind him, Loris turned to glare at Cardiel, his jaws working in fury as he began moving slowly into the horseshoe toward the six rebel bishops.

“I shall suspend the lot of you as soon as the papers can be drawn up, Cardiel. I shall not allow this assault on my authority to go unpunished.”

“Draw up your papers, Loris,” Cardiel challenged, leaning both hands on the table to return Loris’s glare. “Without a majority of the Curia to sign, neither your suspensions nor your Interdict are worth any more than just that: paper!”

“Eleven bishops—” Loris began.

“Eleven of twenty-two does not constitute a majority,” Arilan pointed out. “Of the eleven who have not signed, six are here to oppose you and will never sign, one has refused to play your game, and the other four are itinerant bishops with no fixed sees, out ministering to their flocks where they belong. It may take you weeks to find one of them, more weeks to convince one of them to sign.”

“That does not concern me,” Loris whispered. “Eleven or twelve, it makes little difference. This Curia will consider you outcast, and the people will seek out Morgan and deliver him to us to end this as soon as possible. And that, after all, is the object of this action in the first place.”

“Are you sure it is not to stir up a new Deryni holy war, Archbishop?” Tolliver said. “Deny it if you can, but you and I both know that when Warin de Grey receives word that the Interdict has fallen—which I have little doubt he will, if you have anything to say about it—he will launch the bloodiest anti-Deryni campaign this kingdom has seen in two hundred years. And he will have your sanction!”

“You are mad if you believe that!”

“Am I?” Tolliver retorted. “Was it not you who told us how you had met with this Warin and given him permission to dispose of Morgan if he could? Didn’t you—”

“There is more to it than that! Warin is—”

“Warin’s fear and hatred of Deryni consumes him, just as yours consumes you,” Arilan said coolly. “Only the degree is different. Like you, he finds it abhorrent that, under Duke Alaric’s rule, Corwyn may have become a place of refuge for fugitive Deryni, where they can live quietly and unmolested, doing none any harm. But beware lest you stir a sleeping giant, my lord. I very much doubt that they will stand by and let themselves be slaughtered as they were in the past.”

“I am not a butcher!” Loris said disdainfully. “I do not prosecute without good cause. But Warin is right. The Deryni scourge must be eradicated! We will spare their lives if they repent, but their evil powers they must forever renounce.”

“Do you honestly think that ordinary men will be capable of making that fine distinction between Deryni?” Cardiel said disbelievingly. “I very much doubt it. Warin will tell them to kill, and they will kill. On that day, how do you intend to distinguish between those who have renounced their powers and those who refuse to give up their birthright? Many innocents will die, both human and Deryni!”

“It will not come to that,” Loris protested. “Warin will obey my—”

“Enough!” Cardiel exclaimed. “Leave now. Leave before I forget I am a priest and do something I may later regret! You sicken me, Loris!”

“You would dare—”

“I said get out!”

Loris nodded slowly, blue eyes blazing like coals in his snowy head. “Then it is war,” he whispered. “And all who side with the enemy shall be counted as the enemy. There can be no other interpretation.”

“Loris, I shall have you thrown out, if I must. Tolliver, you, Wolfram, Siward, Gilbert, be certain they leave. Tell the guards I want them gone by midnight at the latest. And watch them.”

“With pleasure!” Wolfram retorted.

Face white with rage, bearing stiff and restrained, Loris turned on his heel and stalked from the hall, followed by his bishops and clergy and Cardiel’s four dissident bishops. When the doors had closed, only Cardiel, Arilan, and Hugh remained; and Hugh was huddled down in the chair where he had sat through the entire confrontation, his head bowed fearfully. Arilan was the first to notice his presence, and motioned Cardiel to join him as he moved quickly to Hugh’s end of the table.

“Staying to spy awhile, Father Hugh?” he asked quietly, taking Hugh’s arm and raising him to his feet gently but firmly.

Hugh kept his gaze averted, twisted a fold of his robe as he studied his sandaled toes. “I am no spy, my lord,” he said in a small voice. “I—I wish to join you.”

Arilan glanced at his colleague, and Cardiel folded his arms cautiously across his chest. “What brings you to this change of heart, Father? You have been Archbishop Corrigan’s secretary for some years.”

“It is not a change of heart, Excellency—at least not a recent one. Last week, when I discovered that Loris and Corrigan meant to lower the Interdict, I warned His Majesty of the plan. I promised him I would stay to see what more I might learn. I can stay no more after today.”

“I think I understand.” Cardiel smiled faintly. “Denis? Are you willing to trust him?”

Arilan grinned. “I am.”

“Good.” Cardiel held out his hand. “Welcome to our company, Father Hugh. We aren’t many, but as the psalmists tell us, our faith is strong. Perhaps you will be able to give us some insight into what Loris and Corrigan might do next. Your help will be very valuable.”

“However I may assist you, Excellency,” Hugh murmured, bobbing to kiss Cardiel’s ring. “Thank you.”

“Now, no ceremony.” Cardiel smiled. “We have more important things to do. If you’ll find my secretary, Father Evans, we can use both of you in about a quarter of an hour. We shall have some urgent correspondence to prepare.”

“Of course, Excellency,” Hugh replied, beaming as he bowed and made his exit.

Cardiel sighed and sank down into a vacant chair, closed his eyes, and rubbed his forehead wearily, then looked up at Arilan. The younger bishop had perched himself against the edge of the table, and grinned down at Cardiel with a look of grim resignation.

“Well, we’ve done it now, my friend. We’ve split the Church right down the middle on the eve of war.”

Cardiel snorted and smiled wearily. “War with Wencit of Torenth
and
civil war. If you think that won’t keep us busy . . .”

Arilan shrugged. “It couldn’t be avoided. I pity Kelson, though. Loris will be after him next. After all, he’s half-Deryni, the same as Morgan, with that extra power from his father thrown in to boot.”

“Which simply means that Kelson will have to be living proof of how beneficent and pure a Deryni can be,” Cardiel said. He sighed, laced his fingers behind his head, and stared up at the ceiling. “What do you think about the Deryni, Denis? Do you think they really
are
evil, as Loris contends?”

Arilan gave a slight smile. “I think that there are some evil Deryni, just like anybody else. I don’t believe that Kelson, or Morgan, or Duncan are evil, though, if that’s what you mean.”

“Hmmm. I just wondered. That’s the first time I’ve ever gotten a straight answer out of you on the subject.” He turned to twinkle at Arilan. “If I didn’t know better, I’d sometimes swear that you were Deryni yourself.”

Arilan chuckled delightedly and clapped Cardiel on the shoulder. “You think of some of the strangest notions, Thomas. Come. We’d best get busy, or the real Deryni will be pounding on our door.”

Cardiel shook his head and stood. “Heaven forbid.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ISAIAH 47:12

 

 

 

 

 

DAWN of the second day was but a few hours away when Morgan and Duncan came within sight of the walled city of Culdi. They had been riding steadily for nearly twenty hours, after only a brief stop in Rhemuth to confirm that Kelson had already gone on before them.

Nigel, managing Kelson’s affairs in the capital in the absence of his young nephew, had been appalled at the tale Duncan told of the Dhassa debacle, and had agreed that their only course of action now lay in getting to Kelson with the news as soon as possible. Once word of the episode at Saint Torin’s reached Kelson, probably in the form of an official decree of excommunication from the Curia at Dhassa, the young king would be risking much even to receive the two fugitive Deryni. Meanwhile, Nigel would step up his mustering of troops for the coming campaign and prepare the army to move out. If the domestic crisis in the southeast continued to worsen, those troops might be needed to quell internal strife. Gwynedd might well be on the brink of civil war.