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d Dhugal trekked on。
The days passed…or so Dhugal presumed； for he had lost all notion of time as the hours stretched on； unmarked by any day or night…and Dhugal wondered with less and less hope whether anyone was still looking for them。 Several times； just before he sank into exhausted sleep； when he and Kelson would stop to eat and rest； he tried to send his mind out beyond the confines of their underground prison； but he never got any impression that his calls had been heard。
CHAPTER TWENTY
The getting of treasures by a lying tongue is a vanity tossed to and fro of them that seek death。
Proverbs 21：6
〃Why did we let ourselves be talked into this？〃 Morgan asked； as dusk bore the room into ever…deeper shadow and he and Duncan finished putting the final touches to preparations for the rite to empower Conall。
Duncan gave his cousin a forbearing look as he carefully laid another log on the fire； but both knew the question was rhetorical。 It had been asked too many times during the past week； as they debated the final form the ritual would take； exploring various options and methods of approach…for nothing was predetermined for the unprimed Conall； whom no one had ever expected to be king。 Unfortunately； the only consistent answer was that they had no choice。
For Nigel certainly was dying。 He might last weeks or even months； but his general condition was deteriorating with every passing day； the once…powerful body slowly wasting away； the mists growing thicker behind what shields had survived his seizure。 They had set up in his room this afternoon； deeming it only fitting that the uncrowned king should be present； at least in body； as the Haldane legacy was confirmed in his son…and to permit at least a form of withdrawing the mandate of Haldane power from him before beginning its facilitation in Conall； though nothing but his lingering shields remained to show that even rudimentary Haldane gifts had ever been conferred。
The last had been Arilan's suggestion； at the behest of the Council…formally withdrawing the mandate； just in case the prohibition against more than one Haldane holding the power at a time should interfere when the time came to bring Conall into his inheritance。 No Haldane king or regent had ever been so endowed while his predecessor still lived…not that Nigel lived in anything but physical form。
That brought them to another point which neither Morgan nor Duncan had yet dared to voice but which plagued both of them…for； if power was manifested in Conall； then it would be nearly incontrovertible proof that Kelson was； indeed； dead。
Nearby； the object of their concern waited somewhat nervously to be fetched； doggedly schooling his thoughts in the appropriate directions to survive what was to e。 Conall was hungry from fasting； and his knees ached from kneeling at the prie…dieu； but he put these disforts of body aside as he reviewed his precautionary measures one final time… for someone would be here soon。
Odd； but he felt a curious detachment from what was about to happen to him。 He had been given little hint of what physical trial might await him； but he believed he could face that； so long as his psychic defenses did not fail him。
Nor had he any real concerns in that regard； for he knew that the defenses with which Tiercel had endowed him would stand against a great deal。 He had reinforced his shields by several levels； doubly shielding the guarded portions of his mind so that he felt certain he could withstand anything short of total merasha disruption…and he did not think tonight's ordeal would involve merasha； judging by what he had gleaned from Tiercel's memories on the subject。 For the most part； the respect of trained Deryni for the drug put it outside normal use； except for learning how to cope with it and occasionally using it to prevent the use of powers。
Of course； there were other substances aplenty that might put him through dire experiences； totally at the mercy of Morgan and Duncan…and Arilan； who truly frightened him； because the Deryni bishop was so highly trained…but Conall knew about most of the possibilities through his contact with Tiercel； either from firsthand experience during his training or from the forbidden knowledge he had gained in final reading。 And while there was nothing he could do to stop a reaction to medication； he was confident he could ride out its effects with minimal risk of exposing his true power…and its source。
He started； though； as a soft knock at the door announced the arrival of his escort； and ducked his head reflexively in a rote childhood prayer for protection。
It would be one of the two bishops e to fetch him； either Arilan or Duncan； and the locked door would stop neither man for more than a few seconds。 Like his father； Conall ordinarily did not put much stock in outward religious observances； but now that the moment had e； hypothetical bravery wavered just a little before realistic apprehension about the unknown； and a prayer seemed in order。 Besides； Conall as king would be expected to pay at least lip service to the appropriate minimal forms…so it surely could not hurt to let his priestly escort observe at least an outward semblance of piety。
After a few seconds； the formerly locked door swung softly inward on its hinges； and a moment later； Conall felt a hand on his shoulder。
〃It's time； Conall；〃 Arilan said softly。 〃Or do you need a little longer？〃
Squaring his shoulders； Conall raised his head to meet the bishops gaze unflinchingly。
〃I've prayed enough。 Excellency…but I'd wele your blessing before we go。〃
He stayed kneeling as Arilan laid a hand briefly on his head in benediction； echoing the bishop's movement as the sign of the cross was sketched above his head。
Then he was rising to let Arilan lay a dark cloak around his shoulders； drawing the hood close around his face at Arilen's gesture。 He kept his face averted as Arilan led him out into the corridor and finally up the narrow stair that led to his father's rooms； his heart pounding in his chest。
Standing opposite Duncan； on the right…hand side of the bed where Nigel lay； Morgan waited； arms crossed on his breast in a ritual posture of readiness； of receptivity； fingertips brushing opposite shoulders。 Like Duncan； he wore a cowled black cassock girdled in scarlet； hood pulled low over his forehead to block out distractions。 Though his gryphon signet adorned his right hand； he had taken off that of the King's Champion and put it on a leather thong around his neck； for now he was champion of neither Kelson； nor the uncrowned Nigel； lying motionless before him； nor of Nigel's regent son； yet to be crowned。 But he would keep Kelson's ring until the day he died； in loving memory of the king who was lost。
And Nigel； the king who now would never be； lay in state in the center of the canopied bed； robed in the lion…charged crimson of his royal line； the Haldane sword laid atop the length of his body with the hilt beneath his crossed hands； one of the Haldane state crowns set on a pillow above his head…a crown Nigel would never wear。 Bearded now； since his illness； he looked even more like his dead brother Brion…and Morgan had a terrible foreshadowing of some future