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e was sure he and Cardiel were largely responsible for Duncan's cautious acceptance among the clergy。 Certainly； Duncan could not have been elected bishop without their support。
What gave the Mearans cause to distrust Duncan； then； had almost entirely to do with Duncan's secular status； for following his father's death without other heir； Duncan had assumed the ducal and county titles of Cassan and Kierney … titles which had once belonged to Old Meara。 To Mearan separatists； working to establish a powerbase for a Mearan restoration； a Cassani duke loyal to the crown of Gwynedd was merely a political annoyance across the northern border； to be worked around and watched； as Duncan's father had been watched for years； but if that duke was also a high…ranking priest； and Meara's only bishopric fell suddenly vacant； matters instantly became more plicated。 A Cassani royalist duke who also became Bishop of Meara would wield both spiritual and temporal authority over two vast areas。
Indeed； Duncan's election to any bishopric would be viewed with suspicion in Meara； for even if he himself had no aspirations in that direction； his politically motivated wishes could carry great weight in the selection of the man who was chosen to occupy the Mearan See。 Monsignor The Duke of Cassan represented a threat； then； for all that he seemed to be an innocuous…looking priest…secretary seated quietly beside the Archbishop of Rhemuth。
Smothering another cough； Morgan glanced down at the consistory chamber again … Kelson was winding up his speech … then allowed his gaze to drift lazily over his own form； reflecting on the effort which had gone into making his image less threatening in the past two years。 Gone was the somber black attire which a younger； more arrogant Morgan had affected in those days as Brion's shadow and confidant。 Cardiel had told him quite frankly that such affectations only tended to reinforce the sinister notions most people still entertained about Deryni。
〃Why dress as the Adversary？〃 Cardiel demanded。 〃You've shown amply by your actions that you're a servant of Light； not Darkness。 Why； with your pale hair and fair features； you could have e off my chapel ceiling： one of the Lord's messengers … maybe even blessed Michael himself！〃
And Lord Rathold； his wardrober at Coroth； had badgered him no less mercilessly about his ducal image。
〃You must think of your people。 Your Grace！〃 Rathold had said stubbornly。 〃You dress like a mon soldier； when you have your way。 No one wishes to think he serves an impoverished master … or to have others think it！ 'Tis a matter of pride！〃
And so； unless there was a need for stealth； the sable leathers had been put aside and replaced with color： a deep burgundy cloak at first； as a self…conscious concession to his rank as King's Champion … he could not bring himself to adopt the crimson Kelson favored … but worn over muted； conservative grey； with little embellishment。 Deep blues followed； and eventually greens and golds and even particolors … the rich jewel…tones rather than bright shades。 Eventually； he even learned to like them。
His body squire had chosen verdant hues for him today： a blue…green cloak collared and lined in silver fox drawn over a nubby wool robe in a slightly lighter shade； ankle…length and slit front and rear for riding。 The borders and cuffs were stiff with dozens of his Corwyn gryphons worked in gold bullion； the throat clasped with a silver penannular brooch which had been his mother's。
He still wore a mail shirt beneath his finery； as he always had： fine； supple chain which would turn aside all but the most direct dagger thrust。 But where once the metal would have gleamed openly at wrists and throat； boldly belligerent and just a little to ready for trouble； now it was hidden beneath an undertunic of rich； slubbed silk； with soft wool between the chain and his skin。 The scabbard of the sword at his left hip was mounted with silver…set Cassani cairngorms the size of a man's thumbnail … Duncan's birthday gift to him two months before： civilized splendor； even if the blade the scabbard sheathed was as serviceable as ever。
A shorter blade was thrust into his right boot…top； the hilt never far from his gloved hand； and he still carried a narrow stiletto in a wrist…sheathed strapped along his left forearm； underneath the mail。 Around his neck he wore the gilded captain…general's chain Kelson had given him at last year's Christmas Court； each link engraved with Haldane lions and Corwyn gryphons chasing one another's tails。 The old Morgan would not have understood the joke。
He sighed and shifted； and the sound of the chain chiming against the stone railing brought him back to awareness of his surroundings。 Kelson's voice in the chamber below had been replaced by another while Morgan day…dreamed； and a quick glance between the curtains confirmed that the speaker was Archbishop Bradene。 Seconds before the door latch lifted； Morgan sensed the king approaching even as he quested outward with his mind。 He was already rising to incline his head in a slight bow as Kelson stepped inside。
〃Well； no sense trying to take you by surprise；〃 the boy remarked with a rueful smile。 〃You always seem to know it is I。 How did I do？〃
Morgan shrugged and returned the smile。
〃The part that I heard was fine； my prince。 I must confess that my attention wandered； toward the end。 We went over this so many times in Droghera。〃
〃I know。 I nearly bored myself as well。〃 Kelson flashed a more wistful grin as he drifted over to peer through the curtains as Morgan had done。 〃Still； it had to be said。〃
〃Aye。〃
As the king stood there poised and listening； Morgan was reminded once again how much had changed in the past three years。 Kelson had grown more than a handspan since that day Morgan had e to help a grief…stricken boy of fourteen keep his throne。 The boy was a man now … still not as tall as Morgan； but already taller than his father had been； if more slightly built。 In other ways than size； he would also be a bigger man than Brion。 Already he knew more of his magical heritage than Brion ever had； and more of the ways of people。
The eyes were the same； though … the grey Haldane eyes that could pierce all subterfuge and read a man's soul； even if the vigor of merely human potential were not enhanced by Haldane magic。 The silky black hair was Brion's； too； though Kelson wore it far longer of late than his father ever had … short across his forehead； but almost brushing his shoulders on the sides。 A golden circlet chased with an interlace design bound the long part off his face； but the back was rumpled where it had caught the high…standing collar of his formal court robe。 Kelson raked the fingers of one hand through the snarls and glanced aside at Morgan with a mischievous grin as he let the curtains fall back into place。
〃I've a mind to do something that I know will vex you；〃 he said； beginning to shrug out of his heavy outer robe。 〃Would you be terribly cross if I went off and left you here for a few days to supervise the bishops？〃
Adopting the bland expression as well as the stance of a valet； Morgan caught Kelson's robe before it could slip to the floor and laid it aside； gathe