The next days seemed to evaporate with little to show for them, as preparations for the coronation of Brion Haldane shifted into their final phases. A week before the scheduled coronation day, foreign emissaries and nobles from the outlying regions began to arrive, again swelling the city’s guest accommodations to near-capacity.
Visitors staying in the castle dined in the great hall every night, though the fare was far simpler than what would be provided on coronation day. Most evenings, the young king made a point of joining his guests, at least for a little while, always attended by Jamyl and with at least one crown counselor at his back. Usually, it was Kenneth.
Through all these days and nights, Kenneth often pondered the whys and wherefores by which both his and the king’s lives had been saved by the presence of an elusive Knight of the Anvil, who had been the childhood friend of Alyce de Corwyn Morgan, and who once had been a knight of Lendour.
It came as little surprise to Kenneth, then, that Sé Trelawney was present on coronation day as well, as the new archbishop crowned Brion Donal Cinhil Urien Haldane King of Gwynedd. Kenneth never saw him in the lead-up to the ceremony; but as Brion swore his coronation oath, right hand set upon Holy Writ, Sé was there in the background, the hood of his black mantle pushed back, standing with arms folded across the breast of his long black robe, just above the white slash of his knight’s belt.
He was there — though no one else seemed to be aware of it — when Brion knelt beneath a golden canopy to receive the marks of holy chrism on head and breast and hands, sealing him to the service of his kingdom.
And he was there when Archbishop Paul lifted Gwynedd’s great state crown of leaves and crosses intertwined and spoke the ancient words of king-making over Brion’s bowed head:
«Bless, we beseech Thee, O Lord, this crown, and so sanctify Thy servant Brion, upon whose head Thou dost place it as a sign of royal majesty…»
Kenneth was certain he saw Sé standing just behind the other bishops, hands upraised in benison, with the tattooed crosses dark against his inner wrists, and he seemed to hear other words inside his head.
In the name of Holy Camber, be king for all thy people of Gwynedd, human and Deryni, and reign in wisdom for all thy days…
And finally, Sé was there to offer up his fealty with the other Lendour knights, kneeling to place his joined hands briefly between Brion’s. Kenneth could not hear what passed between then, but Brion told him later that evening, as Kenneth led the happily exhausted king to the royal apartments to help him disrobe as he prepared for bed.
«Did you see that Anviller who came up with the other knights to pledge fealty, Kenneth? He told me he had been a close friend of Lady Alcye. He showed me the tattoos on his wrists, and said that he could not give me the same fealty that the other knights gave, because he now served a different Lord, but he said that if it were within his power, he would always be there when I had need.
«He told me that he was Deryni, and that his powers were mine to command, if ever I should need his services — within the limits of his vows to his order, of course. And he told me that he would look after you and your son as well: that both of you were pledged to my service in a very special way, and that one day, your Alaric should be my Deryni protector, and awaken the full measure of my father’s Haldane legacy». Brion paused slightly in his disrobing.
«I remember that something happened in that regard when you brought me for that last visit to your wife’s bedside. He knew about that, and he said that she had awakened a part of that legacy as her last act of service and duty to the Haldane line…».
«He told you all of that, my prince, in the time it took to set his hands between yours?» Kenneth asked, when the king had wound down and was gazing distantly at the fire on the other side of the room. He did not doubt that Sé had conveyed all of this to the king — and in the blink of an eye — but he wondered whether Brion grasped the full significance of the gift he had been given.
«He did, Kenneth», the king replied, an odd expression coming across his face as he thought about what he had actually said. «I know he did; it’s all very clear. But I cannot, for the life of me, explain how he must have done it».
«I expect it will come to you in time, my prince», Kenneth said gently. He smiled as he watched the king yawn hugely and crawl beneath the coverlet of the great, canopied state bed. «I have no doubt now that a good many things will come to you in time».
Afterward, when he had drawn the bed curtains, extinguished most of the candles, and left instructions with Jamyl, who would sleep in the adjoining room, Kenneth let himself out and returned to his own quarters, where his precious son slept. Sir Llion lay on a pallet at the foot of the boy’s cot, also sound asleep.
Moving quietly, so as not to wake either one of them, Kenneth slipped his sword from its hangers and laid it on his own bed, then eased closer to Alaric’s bedside to gaze down at his sleeping son, the future hope of the Haldanes, and perhaps of the Deryni race.
«Laddie, laddie, what have we done to you?» he whispered softly, crouching down beside the bed. For he was coming to realize that the recent attempt on the king’s life was likely to deepen the danger facing his son in the years ahead: a son who now had no Deryni mother to protect him. When word got out that the king’s would-be assassin had been Deryni, public outrage would only reinforce the already widespread belief that Deryni were dangerous, their very existence a threat to Gwynedd’s crown and to all honest folk. And if the Zachris Pomeroy affair were not enough, one had but to recall the incident at Hallowdale and too many others like it, which were becoming all too frequent — and not even Donal Haldane had felt competent to address that growing threat.
Would Brion Haldane be able to do any better? A new king only just of age, and without the maturity or experience of his late father?
And Alaric was a decade younger than the king, his Deryni heritage widely known — and already entrenched in the royal household and in the new king’s affections. As he grew into maturity, there would always be those who feared him, who mistrusted him, who would have no compunctions about trying to take his life, even as they had taken the life of young Krispin MacAthan.
It was a dangerous time to be Deryni — or to be the father of a Deryni. Without doubt, the next few years would present many challenges, as Kenneth strove to protect his son and still serve the king to whom both of them had pledged their ongoing loyalty only hours before.
Fortunately, it appeared that unexpected and powerful allies did exist, as both Jamyl and Sé had proven at Valoret, to protect not only the king but also those who served him; for Kenneth himself might have perished at Valoret, had it not been for the pair. (He did not know whether the two had worked in tandem, or whether the intervention of both at once had been a coincidence; that bore further reflection, and careful observation.) Might there be others as well, looking out for the king, for Kenneth — and for Kenneth’s son?
Briefly closing his eyes, Kenneth Morgan made a prayer in his heart, that God and all His angels might keep the boy safe in their care. He imagined, too, that his dear Alyce might now be numbered among those who watched over the innocent, given angel wings by the farewell of a small boy who had tucked feathers into his mother’s coffin to speed her on her way. A tear runneled down his cheek, but he knuckled it away before bending to press a gentle kiss to his son’s brow.
«You shall serve a great king, my son», he whispered, as he got quietly to his feet. «Not right away — but one day. And there will be men to help you, as you grow into your manhood and your destiny».