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his forearm as he bent his knee once more。
And though you did not ask it； Duncan continued； mind to mind； I do reaffirm my fealty； unconditionally； in all things saving my holy office…as Deryni； now openly so to serve you； if you will have it。
The sword trembled with the emotion between them； with Kelson's hand on the hilt and the blade still resting on Duncan's sleeve。 With a little flick of his wrist； the king shifted the weapon to lie across his outstretched palms； silently inviting Duncan's response。
No word passed aloud between them； and few in the audience caught the significance of the action that followed； being now released to startled speculation； albeit whispered； as the significance of what they had seen registered…that both Duncan and Dhugal were Deryni。 But as if the two had rehearsed it； Duncan briefly laid his hands atop Kelson's and bent to brush the blade between with his lips； silently affirming a most holy oath。
Then he was bounding to his feet； and Kelson was sheathing the sword； beckoning Dhugal forward to be girded with the white belt that Meraude slipped around his waist； Jehana already having retired from the dais and； indeed； from the hall when Duncan's intentions became clear。
〃I； Dhugal； do bee your liege man of life and limb and earthly worship；〃 Dhugal proclaimed； kneeling once more to set his hands between those of the king。
And when he had finished his oath； the hall erupted to the raucous whoops of his MacArdry borderers； noisily proclaiming their approval of all that had been done and daring anyone to speak against their young lord or his father。 After all； Dhugal was their chief； chosen by their chief； the grandson of their chief； regardless of who his father was。
Even a piper added his salute； on pipes smuggled into the hall past the watchful eyes of the chamberlain Rhodri and his assistants； who were always trepidacious where border custom was concerned。 The cheering and the piping ceased only when Kelson himself raised open hands to beg their forbearance； grinning and shaking his head as the MacArdrys hefted both Deryni father and Deryni son onto broad shoulders and paraded them to the side of the hall to savor the moment。
Even then； it was some little while before sufficient decorum had been restored that the rest of the knightings could continue…somewhat anticlimactic； after the spectacle of the MacArdry acclaim； but satisfying； nonetheless； for the young men who received the accolade。
When Kelson had done； twenty…two new； crimson…mantled knights were ranged near the king's throne； eleven on either side； with Conall still seated beside his father's chair； as was the prerogative of a royal prince； and Dhugal now posted directly to the king's left； where Morgan had been。 The new knights' sponsors occupied the front ranks of those standing in the main part of the hall； assembled there as each finished the duties attendant on knighting his candidate… for what came next would require a show of strength； a display of the finest of Gwynedd's chivalry； old and new。
As Saer de Traheme came into the hall to inform the king that all was in readiness to admit the Torenthi ambassador and his party to the keep； Duke Ewan drew his flock of young charges farther to one side； close by Cardiel and his bishops。 Morgan and Duncan moved quietly among the squires to flank young Liam。
〃Well； we can bring them in whenever you're ready； Sire；〃 Saer muttered under his breath； kneeling at the king's knee。 〃Just wait until you see them； though。〃
Kelson smiled as he caught a flash of what Saer had seen…it was an exotic contingent； by Gwynedd standards… but he only pulled his sheathed sword from its belt hangers and laid it across his knees again。
〃Very well； then。 Let's see them；〃 he said。
As Saer rose and turned to signal to one of his men in the rear gallery。 Kelson caught the eye of the elderly Lord Rhodri； who had been waiting for his cue at the far end of the hall。 Lifting his head proudly； the old man strode halfway up the hall； clearing an aisle； and rapped weightily with his chamberlain's staff。
〃Your Majesty； an emissary of the Court of Torenth seeks audience。〃
At Kelson's nod； the doors at the end of the hall swung back。
〃They may approach。〃
Kettle drums； struck with the hand rather than with sticks； heralded the entrance of the visitors。 The black…clad drummers were Moors of some sort； as were the twenty white…robed warriors who followed them as an honor escort to the ambassador himself； who had not yet e into view。 Scale armor glinted beneath flowing desert robes as the men impassively swept a clear path down the widening center aisle。 They bore spears and small metal…studded targes as ceremonial adjuncts to the curved blades thrust through wide sashes of a pale yellow silk； and their carefully wrapped turbans only partially concealed pointed steel caps。
The Moors gave brisk salute to Kelson with spears against their shields as； by pairs； they split to either side to line the end of the aisle。 And then； as the unexpected clatter of hooves on the stairs outside the hall heralded the approach of the ambassador himself； the Moors turned inward as one man and lowered their spears to the man they escorted。
By his dress； the Torenthi ambassador； too； was a Moor； though darker plected than any Moor Kelson had ever seen。 He rode a tawny…colored desert barb； taller by several hands than the usual of the breed； and his flowing desert robes were of the same amber hue as the animal's shiny coat； though his turban was snowy white； a fold of it covering the lower part of his face。 Most impressive of all was the vast cloak of spotted catskin curved around the man's shoulders； dappled and sun…tawny； the great fore paws clasped on his breast and the ponderous head resting on his left shoulder； all gleaming in the sunlight as he paused briefly in the doorway to take stock of the situation he was about to enter。
He bore himself like a prince as he minced his barb delicately down the center of the stone…flagged hall。 He appeared to be unarmed…but any number and manner of weapons might be secreted beneath the cloak of spotted fur。 Or perhaps he had no need for weapons； since cautious psychic probes from Kelson and several of the Deryni around him encountered closely guarded shields。
Deryni himself； then…or at least well protected by someone who was。 His black eyes flashed； vibrant and aware； as he drew rein in the center of the hall。
Only； as he dropped the barb's reins and flung one leg over the pommel of his saddle； preparatory to dismounting； the golden eyes of the great cat's head on his shoulder blinked； the mighty head lifting as the jaws parted in a mighty yawn。
CHAPTER FOUR
It is good to keep close the secret of a king。
Tobit 12：7
Kelson's gasp was echoed by nearly every throat in the hall as the great cat carefully disengaged its paws from around the Moor's neck and sprang lightly to the floor。 The movement； plus the soft plop its landing made…punctuated by something that sounded like a muted growl； cut off in mid…rumble…released the assembled court of Gwynedd to surge back from the center aisle like the sea parting before Moses。 What had begun as a breathless murmur