hey had given him； his head throbbed and his broken ribs burned with every breath and jolt。 Sometimes； the very effort of trying to focus on the world around him made him pass out。
Unconsciousness was something of a blessing initially； for there was no part of his anatomy which did not hurt。 He could not fall off his horse； for his feet were bound to his stirrups and lashed beneath the animal's belly； but whenever he fainted； which was all too often； his already battered body sagged limply against the ropes and strained tortured muscles anew。
But his head was the worst。 As often as not； when they roused him from one of their infrequent rest stops and made him stand； he passed out again。 No matter how he reckoned that； it meant a serious concussion … for which the only cure was rest。 And so long as his captors continued to press onward toward their unknown destination； he knew he would simply have to endure。
In such manner did the days pass … four since his capture； so far as he could calculate。 He had learned the identity of the men his captors escorted； but that was hardly more reassuring than his condition。 That the notorious Archbishop Loris had somehow managed to escape his sea…girt prison was chilling。 He wondered whether Kelson knew。 He suspected Loris' escape somehow had to do with the Mearan question Kelson had been worrying about； but he could not seem to put it all together。 His head started aching anew everytime he tried to think about it。
He worried about his head and about Loris as they rode through the snow on that fourth day。 The first snow…storm of the season had swept down upon them with the morning's first light； and he shivered with the cold of it； despite the extra mantle they had wrapped around him。 Exhausted and bordering on delirium； wrists chafed raw from days of riding with his hands tied in front of him； he laced his fingers in his horse's mane and concentrated on staying conscious as they seemed to float in a sphere of silence through the still…falling snow。 When their pace eventually slowed and he weakly raised his head far enough to see why； they were approaching the ghostly blackness of city gates。
He thought it was Culdi at first； for the guards who admitted them wore the Bishop of Culdi's livery。 But even as he thought it； he realized it could not be Culdi。 Culdi was loyal to Kelson； Loris would never go there。 They had ridden west and south。 He decided it might be Ratharkin。
They rode for what seemed like hours through the silent streets； pulling up at last in a darkened courtyard where he was unceremoniously hauled from his horse and half…dragged； half…carried inside a formidable…looking stone building。 Being supported under his arms put excruciating pressure on his cracked ribs； but worse by far was the jolting of his head。 He passed out as they manhandled him down a narrow； ill…lit stair。
The next thing he knew was the warmth of a fire not far away and the play of firelight on his closed eyelids。 He lay curled on his left side with his bound hands partially shielding his face。 There was fur underneath him； besides the fur lining of his cloak。 Voices buzzed low in the background； occasionally discemable as words and phrases； punctuated by the muted clank of men disarming and the snap of mantles being shaken out。 He caught the scent of mulled wine behind him； but the sound of others arriving warned him to feign continued unconsciousness。 Cautiously he eased his eyes open to the merest slits to see two men in clerical attire entering the room。 The elder he recognized as Creoda； Bishop of Culdi。
〃Your Excellency；〃 Creoda murmured； bowing to kiss Loris' ring。 〃Wele to Ratharkin。 May I present Father Judhael of Meara； whose family is responsible for arranging your escape。〃
As Creoda stepped aside； a younger man with silver hair came forward to bend in homage before the renegade archbishop； remaining on one knee when he looked up and Loris did not release his hand。
〃So； Father；〃 Loris said； 〃I see I must thank you for my freedom。〃
〃In truth； it is not I； personally； who am responsible； Excellency；〃 Judhael replied； gazing up at him raptly。 〃My Lord Creoda felt it wisest if I knew none of the details of my family's involvement。 Apparently that was a wise precaution。 When General Morgan questioned me about the attempt on Duncan McLain's life last week； I was honestly able to say that I knew nothing。 Tis said the Deryni can make a man speak the truth whether he will nor no。〃
〃The Deryni。 Aye。〃 Loris' eyes took on a dangerous； preoccupied glint。 〃They also say the traitor archbishops plan to make McLain a bishop at Eastertide。 A Deryni bishop！ Blasphemy！ Blasphemy！〃
〃Yes； Excellency；〃 Judhael murmured meekly。
His tone seemed to remind Loris where he was； and the archbishop's expression softened as he looked down at Judhael again and smiled； raising him to his feet。
〃But more of the Deryni and their accursed race later。 'Tis also said that your bishopric has been given to another； my son。 Do you intend to stand for that？〃
Judhael looked a little taken aback。 〃I am not certain I have any say in the matter。 Excellency。 I am eager to serve； of course； but Henry Istelyn now holds the See of Meara directly from Archbishop Bradene and the king。 What of him？〃
〃What of him？〃 Loris replied。 〃I am Primate of Gwynedd … not Bradene。 Are you willing to accept a slightly less pretentious title than Bishop of Meara； to unsettle these dissident bishops who have usurped my position and yours？〃
Creoda's brow furrowed in question。 〃What title did you have in mind。 Excellency？〃
〃Bishop of Ratharkin；〃 Loris said。 〃Because the Meara you know today is not the Meara which will exist when we are finished。 We will take back the ancient Mearan lands when I confound the heretic Duncan McLain … who shall never enter into his lands as prince and prelate while I breathe … and you； Creoda； shall be Patriarch of the new Mearan state；〃 he finished pointedly。 〃Does that please you？〃
Creoda flushed with pleasure。 〃A promotion for all of us； my lord。 Of course I am pleased。 And allegiance to the rightful queen upon the throne of Meara？〃
〃Perhaps to a queen of far more than only Meara；〃 Loris said softly。 〃It is not only in the episcopate that the Deryni taint has cast its pall。〃
Creoda blanched。 〃The king？〃
〃He is Deryni； is he not？〃
Dhugal； following their conversation with growing horror； nearly gasped aloud at the implications。 It took all his strength simply to close his eyes and force his body not to tense in outrage。 The three clerics continued to discuss minor details of the flight to Ratharkin for several minutes； while Dhugal lay there numbly and tried to think what he could do to stop them。 The clink of goblets jarred through the buzz of their further discussion； almost directly behind him； and suddenly he knew that their eyes were on him。
〃Who is that？〃 Judhael asked。
〃A hostage；〃 Loris said casually。 〃My Lord of Trurill tells me he's the Master of Transha； Clan MacArdry's heir。 You'll want his support when Transha is reintegrated with Meara。〃
Dhugal felt hands rolling him face upward； and the pressure on his ribs made him moan and actually black out for just a few seconds。
〃 … want him to witness Judhael's consecration； then；〃 Creoda was saying； as consciousness returned。 〃Is he badly injured？〃
〃Brice？〃 Loris called。
The Baron of Trurill came away from unbuckling his armor and knelt to peel back one of Dhugal's eyelids。
〃He's no worse than he was； Excellency；〃 the traitor baron said； pressing his fingertips to the pulsepoint in Dhugal's throat。 〃He has some cracked ribs that nothing could be done about while we rode； and probably a concussion； but you're mainly seeing exhaustion。 He's a strong lad； he'll mend。〃
〃Well； if he's that strong a lad； we'd better put him in a secure place； hadn't we？〃 Creoda said。 〃Gendon； take him to one of the chambers below and have someone tend to him in the morning。 I don't think he'll be causing anybody any trouble before then。 After that； you can see to your men。 Excellency； if you and Father Gorony will follow me； please； I'll show you to quarters where you'll be secure from prying eyes until we're ready to confront Bishop Istelyn in the