Chapter 27

«For they intended evil against thee: they imagined a mischievous device, which they were not able to perform».[28]

They had reckoned that for the next day or two, at least until the king arrived in Valoret, he would be in no particular danger, since he was on the move and no one knew he was coming. That gave the Camberian Council time to organize their strategy, for Rhydon to assemble his operatives, and for Seisyll to contact his nephew, already on the road with the king, concerning Zachris Pomeroy. Jamyl dared not pass on the warning to anyone in the royal party, lest he be obliged to reveal his source — and himself as Deryni — but he assured his uncle that he would maintain particular vigilance, and would somehow make contact with Rhydon once they arrived in Valoret.

Which occurred just at dusk on the afternoon before Paul Tollendal was to be installed as Archbishop and Primate. The arrival of twenty Haldane lancers in the cathedral’s stable yard, and with the king among them, provoked a flurry of initial alarm followed by consternation, as men in black habits and then a few in episcopal purple poked their heads from the chapter house doorway and then began spilling onto its steps, for no one had reckoned that the king might venture out of Rhemuth before his coronation, and certainly not as far north as Valoret.

«Sire, this is a pleasant surprise. You are most welcome!» said a young bishop Brion did not recognize, though Kenneth did: Faxon Howard, one of the itinerant bishops, and kin to Vera Countess of Kierney. Unlike the others coming warily onto the chapter house steps as the king and his immediate party dismounted, Bishop Faxon looked genuinely pleased.

Brion acknowledged the bishop’s greeting with a neutral nod, but made no move to approach, allowing his companions to close ranks around him — Richard and Tiarnán and Jiri Redfearn, and Kenneth at his back — as more bishops emerged from the arched doorway, finally some that he knew by sight. First came Esmé Harris, the Bishop of Coroth, followed by Archbishop Desmond and Patrick Corrigan, who had rejoined his brother bishops immediately after Twelfth Night to assist in the deliberations. None of them looked particularly pleased to see Kenneth Morgan in the king’s party.

«Reverend Father», the king said, nodding again. Though the stark black he wore was as much for anonymity of travel as for mourning for his late father, it lent him a gravity that belied his youth and stature; his companions stood nearly a head taller than he. Behind him and spilling back through the stable gate, the yard was awash with the Haldane crimson of the lancers’ pennons.

«Your Majesty, we were not expecting you», Archbishop Desmond said baldly. «Ah — should you not be preparing for your coronation?»

The king’s gaze flicked over the other clerics massing all around the archbishop. The resentment of some of them was only thinly veiled.

«I have had some weeks to prepare, my lord», he replied. «And it seemed to me right that I pay my respects to our new Primate as he is enthroned — as he shall do for me in another few weeks’ time. I fear I do not know Bishop Tollendal by sight. Perhaps someone would be so good as to present him to me».

Accompanied by a flurry of furtive whispering, the mass of purple-clad clerics parted raggedly, allowing a slight, stoop-shouldered figure with a shock of faded ginger hair to pass among them, eyes humbly averted and hands clasped decorously at the waist of his faded purple cassock. Pausing abreast of Archbishop Desmond, he briefly lifted his gaze to the king’s, inclined his head in respect, then glanced expectantly at Desmond, who drew himself up with an air of resignation.

«Brion Haldane King of Gwynedd, I have the honor to present the Most Reverend Paul Tollendal, lately Bishop of Marbury and now become Archbishop-Elect of Valoret and Primate of All Gwynedd. My Lord Archbishop, His Majesty the King».

Handing off his reins to Kenneth, Brion started forward, removing his leather cap as he came. The discreet coronet embroidered around the crown and nearly hidden by the upturned brim was the only mark of his rank — that, and the Eye of Rom in his right earlobe. The archbishop-elect, for his part, came slowly down the steps to meet him, hesitantly extending his right hand when they met at the bottom, where the king briefly bent to kiss the episcopal ring. With the archbishop standing on the bottom step as the king straightened at ground level, Kenneth noted that it made the two nearly the same height.

«Please allow me to extend felicitations on your election, Holy Father», Brion said, again inclining his head. «I shall pray that our future dealings may be amicable and harmonious».

Bishop Paul bowed in turn. «Thank you, Sire. It is always a blessing when leaders may work together toward the common good. And may I say that you honor us with your presence? I did not expect it, this close to your own coronation».

Brion smiled faintly, his gaze flicking briefly over the other bishops and their scowls. «So it would seem. But I am a very young king, my lord, and I fear that I have not yet gained the patience or perhaps the wisdom to sit by idly, when there is so much to learn. I trust that my presence will not inconvenience you overmuch. My men will look after me. Please do not feel that you must dwell on extra ceremony on my account, for I am sure I shall have my fill of it back in Rhemuth, when you come to crown me king».

The new archbishop smiled at that: an expression of genuine amusement that surprised the king, for no one had reckoned that Paul Tollendal might possess a sense of humor. Some of the king’s party were smiling faintly as well, though Kenneth, at least, was well aware of the reputation of the man about to become the highest ecclesiastical authority in the land.

«I shall take you at your word, Sire», the new archbishop went on, inclining his head as he beckoned aside for a man in abbot’s robes. «And I hope you will take no offense that we can offer you only such humble accommodation as the cathedral’s guesthouse can provide; the castle has not had royal visitors in some time, and it will not be possible to make it ready on such short notice. I fear that your lancers will be obliged to make do in the stable loft, if you wish to keep them near you».

«That will be sufficient, my lord», Duke Richard said, speaking for the first time, and signing for the captain of lancers to dismount and draw nearer. «The men are well accustomed to billeting in the field, so a stable loft will seem to them great luxury. And the rest of us are most grateful for whatever arrangements you are able to make on such short notice».

«Then, may I invite you into the refectory, Sire, Highness?» their host replied, extending a hand in the direction of the cloister arch. «It will be warmer there, and I am certain that we can offer at least some token of suitable hospitality after your long ride. For some hours, our deliberations have been distracted by the aroma of fresh-baked bread and mulling wine. Clearly, your arrival is meant to encourage us to succumb to temptation. Please, come, and we shall get to know one another better».

The enthronement of Paul Tollendal as Archbishop of Valoret and Primate of All Gwynedd was to take place at noon the following day, at the city’s All Saints’ Cathedral. That evening, the man at the focus of the planned ceremony hosted the king and his uncle for a modest private supper in his new apartments, accompanied by congenial if guarded conversation regarding past differences between Crown and Church, and how such might be avoided during the tenures of the new king and archbishop. The rest of the king’s immediate party supped with the cathedral chapter, and the lancers with the officers of the archbishop’s household guards.