[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

earthly worship. Faith and truth will I bear unto you, to live and to die, against all manner of
folk, so help me, God!"
He kissed the royal hands before the king raised him up, flushing with pride as the court
cheered his new estate and Queen Jehana girded him with the white belt of his knightly rank.
After she had kissed him on both cheeks in congratulation, he bent over her hand in courtly
salute, bowed to the king and to the eight-year-old Prince Kelson, seated at his father's right,
then moved to the side with a beaming Uncle Trevor to witness the other knightings. As an earl
of however modest means, Derry had been among the first to receive the accolade. Hence, he
was able to stare with relative impunity when Duke Alaric finally came forward to sponsor the
Sieur de Vali, who was only of baronial rank.
Morgan did his best to remain unobtrusive as his young vassal knelt to beg knighthood of
the king, himself kneeling with bowed head to affix the golden spurs to de Vali's heels, but even
Derry, relatively unsophisticated as he was, could sense the heightened interest of the court in
this particular dubbing or at least in the candidate's sponsor. The sword with which Morgan
invested his charge at the king's command was well made but of no particularly lavish
embellishment, but from the court's attention, as the weapon changed hands, Derry wondered
whether they expected it to burst into flames.
It did not. Nor did Morgan. Like any ordinary man, the Deryni duke remained kneeling
quietly to one side as de Vali received the accolade, made his vows, and rose to receive his
white belt from the queen. Then Morgan melted into the crowd as the court cheered the
newmade knight. Derry did not see him again until much later in the day, well after the feast,
a
a
T
T
n
n
s
s
F
F
f
f
o
o
D
D
r
r
P
P
m
m
Y
Y
e
e
Y
Y
r
r
B
B
2
2
.
.
B
B
A
A
Click here to buy
Click here to buy
w
w
m
m
w
w
o
o
w
w
c
c
.
.
.
.
A
A
Y
Y
B
B
Y
Y
B
B
r r
when he found the Deryni duke sitting alone in a window embrasure that opened off the rear of
the great hall. The high collar of the black court robe was unfastened at the throat, the coronet
of earlier in the day set aside on the cushion beside him, but the sunlight made of the duke's
golden hair its own crown of fire as he hunched over the stiletto he was using to pare his
fingernails.
Derry paused at the entrance to the embrasure, uncertain whether to intrude or even
why he wanted to but Morgan looked up almost immediately and rose.
"Ah, young Lord Derry," the duke said, the stiletto disappearing so quickly that for an
instant Derry considered whether Morgan might have used magic. "Or, should I say, Sir Sean,
since you are so newly knighted?" Morgan went on, making him a courtly little bow with both
empty palms extended. "In any case, my heartiest congratulations to you, Sir Knight. You are
well deserving of the honor bestowed upon you today."
Derry flushed and returned the bow, thinking he probably should be uneasy at being
singled out for a Deryni's attention, but only feeling a little self-conscious to be receiving any
duke's notice.
"I wouldn't know about that, Your Grace, but I thank you for the compliment,
nonetheless. And you can call me Derry, if you like," he added recklessly. "I was only nine
when I became an earl, so the title has become almost like a given name, over the years."
"Ah, that can happen," Morgan agreed. "I remember your father. You carry his name as
one of your own, do you not?"
"Aye, m'lord. He was Seamus Michael O'Flynn. I am Sean Seamus."
"So I recall, from your oath." Morgan cocked his head and tendered a hesitant little smile
as he continued. "I was the king's squire on the campaign when your father received his
wounds. I remember he fought very bravely. I was sorry to hear he had later succumbed to his
injuries for your sake, as well as his own. I, too, was only nine when my father died."
Derry blinked in surprise. He had not realized Morgan knew so much about him.
"Then, we have something in common, Your Grace besides a love of fine horses.
May may I sit down?" he blurted.
Morgan raised a fine blond eyebrow and crossed his arms casually on his chest. "Are you
certain you want to risk being seen with me by choice? You know what I am."
"I do, my lord."
Derry managed not to flinch as Morgan's pale, silvery gaze flitted across his face, down
to his toes and back up again. When Morgan turned half-away and sat down again, gesturing
vaguely toward the opposite bench in the window with one graceful hand, Derry felt almost
physically relieved.
"Please join me, then," Morgan murmured, "and tell me how fares the stallion we saved
from the knackers."
Derry swallowed his trepidation and obeyed, making himself move farther into the
embrasure before sitting gingerly opposite the Deryni duke.
"The stallion fares well, my lord," he said. "I thought you might like to know; that's why
I sought you out. I also wanted to thank you for helping me drive the bargain that bought him.
a
a
T
T
n
n
s
s
F
F
f
f
o
o
D
D
r
r
P
P
m
m
Y
Y
e
e
Y
Y
r
r
B
B
2
2
.
.
B
B
A
A
Click here to buy
Click here to buy
w
w
m
m
w
w
o
o
w
w
c
c
.
.
.
.
A
A
Y
Y
B
B
Y
Y
B
B
r r
My smithy's fitted him with a special shoe to keep the injury immobilized while it heals, and
I'm told he flourishes though he's restive, confined to a stall this past week."
"And will grow more restive yet, before he's mended enough to be turned out," Morgan
observed. "Still, it's better than putting him down. A pity, even so. I'd hoped to buy him for the
king. His Majesty usually favors greys, but that fellow was a mount almost worthy of my
lord."
Derry nodded, remembering his own reaction to the stallion and appreciating Morgan's
confirming judgment.
"Aye, he was, Your Grace. But if he recovers, could the king not breed to him still? If all
goes well, I hope to have him standing at stud by the spring."
Chuckling pleasantly, Morgan raised a droll eyebrow.
"I would venture to guess that the king would be most interested in that prospect," he
said. "You must promise me, however, that you will extract a suitable stud fee from the royal
purse."
"Charge the king?" Derry gasped.
"Well, if you're to build yourself a reputation as a judge of fine horseflesh, you must put
a fitting value on your expertise," Morgan replied. "Besides, you can't tell me that your estate
coffers couldn't use the extra income."
"But, the king "
"Derry, did the king have anything to do with your getting that stallion?"
"No, sir."
"Well, then." Morgan grinned impishly. "On the other hand, if it were I, and not the king,
who wished to engage the services of your stallion, and I were to suggest certain, ah,
concessions..."
He shrugged eloquently, adopting an expression of innocence quite at variance with his
prosperous if sober appearance, and Derry suddenly realized Morgan was testing him, albeit
gently.
"I think I understand, Your Grace," he said carefully. "But might I not also be well
advised, if I wish to establish my reputation as a judge of fine horseflesh, not to diminish the
value of my expertise, even to a fellow expert?"
Morgan only shrugged again, rather more casually than the first time, but the mirth
Derry sensed in the grey eyes was well worth any momentary anxiety he might have
experienced.
"Well said, my young friend," Morgan said with a nod. "We'll teach you yet to drive a
hard bargain. Incidentally, how did that white-legged bay turn out? Other than those outlandish
legs, he looked quite the goer." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]