«We did not part as friends, Michon de Courcy. Do not presume to play on my emotions».
Michon had cocked his head at this declaration, and held up a hand to stay further such revelations.
«How time can alter our memories», he murmured. «But I shall not cause further offense by bringing up bygones. Just remember what I have said».
Her jaw went steely, and her eyes narrowed. «Let the past be past, Michon», she said softly. «Consider that you treat now with a stranger».
«Yes, I can see that», he replied. Clasping his hands behind him, he inclined his head in cool leave-taking. «Should I ask a blessing before I go? I am given to understand that such is expected».
Her lip curled in faint disdain. «I shall pray for you, Michon, as I pray for all who are in need of enlightenment. But I think you would not thank me for what blessing I might give you».
He lifted his chin and braced his shoulders, then gave her another nod, this time in the nature of a dismissal and farewell. «Then it appears there is nothing more to be said. Forgive me for wasting your time».
With that, he turned on his heel and strode briskly toward the outer door, where Oisín quickly opened it for him and followed him outside. Their escort monks were waiting beyond the gate to the little courtyard, and fell in behind them as they retraced their steps to the monastery gatehouse. The sound of the gate closing behind them held a note of finality.
The pair did not speak until they were well down the steps leading back to the harbor. Behind them, in the lowering twilight, a deep-throated bell began summoning the inhabitants of Saint-Sasile for the Great Office of Sabbath Eve.
«Did that go as badly as it sounded?» Oisín finally summoned the courage to ask.
Michon uttered a breathless grunt meant to be an ironic laugh.
«It certainly did not go well», he replied.
By the time they reboarded their ship and were under sail, heading back across the straits toward distant Tralia, a ghostly glow had begun to flicker above the spires and domes of Saint-Sasile.
Though Michon’s visit to Saint-Sasile had been less than satisfactory, his and Oisín’s onward journey into R’Kassi yielded far more positive results. In the course of visits to a number of that land’s most prominent breeders of fine horseflesh, Oisín identified half a dozen promising two-year-olds of suitable lineage and temperament for Prince Brion’s first adult mount. For each of these animals he left sizeable deposits and instructions for their care and training in the coming year, promising to return in the spring to make his final selection.
«In truth, they are all fine animals», he told Michon as they rode back to Tortuña to take ship for their return to Rhemuth. «If all of them develop according to their promise, I shall probably take the lot of them in the spring and keep whatever ones the king does not choose. I have no doubt that I shall find buyers for as many as I care to sell on; and a few may even end up at my own facility at Haut Emeraud».
«I think that neither the king nor Prince Brion will have cause to complain», Michon assured his younger companion. «The Council, alas, will be less pleased. I wish we could take them better news».
But if the completion of their summer missions had met with mixed results, the same could not be said for that of the new head of Corwyn’s regency council. Looking back on that first summer at Coroth, the stay of Lord Kenneth Morgan and his countess at the Corwyn capital could only be counted as a success. Though the Duchy of Corwyn had been formally in abeyance for nearly thirty years, waiting for a male heir to come of age, Malcolm Haldane and then King Donal had chosen well in their selection of a caretaker council to administer these important lands, so vital to the security of Gwynedd’s eastern border with Torenth.
Corwyn’s origins lay in the turbulent era just before the Festillic Interregnum, when King St. Bearand Haldane was consolidating his kingdom after pushing back the Moorish sea lords. In 826, soon after the overthrow of the Haldane line, the new King Festil of Gwynedd arranged the marriage of his son and heir, Prince Festil Augustus, to the Princess Briona, only child of the last Prince of Mooryn, in the south, thus bringing Mooryn directly under the crown of Gwynedd as its suzerain. Corwyn and Carthmoor, subsidiary princedoms of Mooryn, became semi-autonomous duchies, with Carthmoor settled on Prince Festil and his bride. Corwyn was given to Sieur Dominic du Joux, son and heir of Lord Richard du Joux, who had fought and died for Festil in the conquest of Gwynedd. Dominic’s mother had been the Princess Tayce Furstána, a first cousin of King Festil. Hence Dominic was Deryni, like all the Festils, and became Corwyn’s first duke.
With the accession of Prince Festil Augustus as Festil II in 839, the Duchy of Carthmoor became an appanage of the Crown of Gwynedd, usually reserved for younger sons or brothers of Gwynedd’s kings. Corwyn, however, retained its semi-autonomous status all through the Festillic Interregnum and into the Haldane Restoration, until the reign of King Cluim Haldane, and the repulsion of Duchad Mor’s invasion force by Cluim’s brother Jashan.
At that time, Jernian of Corwyn, fifth duke and a comrade-in-arms of the new king, bound himself in personal vassalage to the Crown of Gwynedd. Both he and his son Stíofan had fought for Gwynedd in the Great War of 1025; and Stíofan Anthony, Alyce’s grandfather, had ruled Corwyn with justice and compassion for more than forty years: a benevolent and popular ruler in a long line of highly competent dukes. Geography made Corwyn an important buffer with Torenth, and the loyalty of its dukes a vital aspect of Gwynedd’s eastern security.
With the loyal Kenneth Morgan now guiding Corwyn’s destiny, as caretaker for his young son, Corwyn’s regents could finally breathe a collective sigh of relief, knowing their sole custodianship would soon be eased. His visits to Coroth would always be too short for their liking, but they could appreciate the sensitive work that Earl Kenneth sometimes carried out for the king, and the trust placed in him by the Crown, which would also serve Corwyn’s interests. This present visit might only last a month, but it was long enough for Kenneth to begin acquiring a more intimate knowledge of the state of the duchy and the men charged with its care; long enough for them to begin knowing him and the child who one day would be their duke.
Alyce, for her part, continued to sit in on meetings of the regency council occasionally, and gave her opinion when asked. But mostly she spent her time reacquainting herself with her ancestral home and showing it off to Zoë and her son.
They lingered in Coroth until the end of August — long enough to see the harvest mostly in, and for Kenneth to have established an easy working relationship with the other Corwyn regents. Several times, he went off on patrols along the border with Torenth, taking Jovett and Trevor with him and acquainting himself with the political pulse of the area.
Accompanied by various hosts from the regency council, he also visited most of the major holdings in Corwyn proper. Laurenz Udaut proved particularly helpful and friendly in this regard, as did Earl Derry and his son. Bishop Harris remained aloof, though at least he was not obstructive; but Earl Síoda took very much to heart his promise to begin teaching Alaric about his ducal heritage. Many an afternoon found the pair sitting under a shady tree in the castle gardens, often with one of the stable hounds at their feet, where the old man regaled his young charge with tales of Corwyn’s history and its illustrious dukes. By the time the family prepared to head back to Cynfyn for the wedding of Zoë and Sir Jovett Chandos, Kenneth was confident that the duchy was in good hands.
They were to leave for Cynfyn on the first day of September, following a final court and banquet of leave-taking on the afternoon before. At the court preceding that banquet, young Alaric, now hardly a month short of his third birthday, was allowed to sit on the dais on a stool between his parents and personally receive the loyalty of his future subjects. On that day as well, Kenneth knighted several senior Corwyn squires whose attendance at the next Twelfth Night Court would have presented a financial hardship. Alaric wore a miniature coronet provided by Earl Síoda, and a simple tunic displaying the Corwyn arms, and comported himself commendably as future duke, even holding his father’s sharp sword between accolades.
One of the new knights, a blond, mop-headed young man by name of Llion Farquahar, had made himself young Alaric’s personal favorite by serving as the boy’s almost-constant companion through the weeks of their stay, freeing up Alyce’s energies to sit in on council meetings or sometimes to ride with Zoë in the surrounding countryside or along the sandy beaches to the west of the harbor. Sometimes this respite simply allowed her and Zoë to stitch quietly on wedding attire with Melissa and other women of the court, without the distraction of a small boy’s endless questions and restless poking into everything.
Every morning, the squire Llion would take the boy in charge and touch on some facet of his education as Corwyn’s future duke, imparting random elements of court etiquette and simple heraldry, even starting him on very basic sword drills, using a dirk for a sword. Even more to Alaric’s liking, sometimes Llion would put him up in the saddle of a sedate, retired warhorse and walk beside him for hours.
For him, young Alaric fumbled his father’s sword into Sir Xander’s hands and darted down from his stool of state to help Jovett buckle on the spurs, and gave Sir Llion an unabashed hug, once the accolade had been bestowed and the white belt girt around his waist by Alyce.
But the lazy days of that summer ended the next day when the party departed for Cynfyn. Zoë and Jovett were charged with excitement about their upcoming nuptials, and Kenneth and Alyce well pleased with the way their time at Coroth had passed; but Alaric wept when forced to say good-bye to his favorite knight, and withdrew into a sulk the farther they got from Coroth. Skirting Tendal lands as they made their way upriver, heading back toward Cynfyn, they stopped the first night at Pladda, a comfortable manor nestled in a curve of the river.
«You know, you could ask Sir Llion whether he’d like to join our household», Alyce said to her husband the next morning, when Alaric only picked listlessly at his breakfast, cranky and dispirited. «Alaric doted on him — and more important, he respected him, and minded when Llion told him to do something he really didn’t want to do. Also, the time is not that far away when he should begin spending time with other men and boys, rather than with the women. Since he’ll need a companion anyway, and someone to be his governor, why not choose one he likes?»
Kenneth nodded. «He seems a bright-enough young man — and I liked what I saw of him on the practice field. We could give him a try, I suppose. If he’d want to live so far from home, that is».
«Dear Kenneth, I think he would welcome the chance», Alyce replied. «His family has a long tradition of service to my house, but I believe they have fallen on hard times in the past generation or so — and he is not the eldest son. He’ll inherit nothing. He would benefit greatly from exposure at court, from being a part of our court. And you yourself have said that he shows promise».
«Then we shall see if such service is agreeable to him. I’ll send Trevor back to fetch him».
«Thank you, darling! I know it will be a good match».
Whether or not it was a good match, it certainly improved young Alaric’s spirits. They did not tell him why Trevor was being sent back to Coroth; only that he had a mission for Kenneth. But when, two days later, Trevor and Llion joined the column at Dellard’s Landing, where they had stopped to water the horses, Alaric’s face lit with undisguised joy.
«Sir Llion!» he crowed, pelting across the muddy riverbank to fling his arms around the young man’s knees. «Llion, Llion!»
Sir Llion scooped him up in a hug as Kenneth and Alyce approached, grinning as he nodded respect to the pair of them.
«I would kneel, m’lord, m’lady, but I seem to have an armful of ducal heir».
Alyce laughed and set her hand happily on Kenneth’s arm. «’Tis quite clear that you are most welcome, Sir Llion. By your presence, may we assume that you are willing to take on this young bundle of exuberance?»
«I am the third of six, my lady, and the youngest is but a few years older than Alaric», Llion replied, smiling. «Our mother died bearing him, so I have always helped with the younger ones. Besides» — he jostled Alaric on his hip — «young Master Alaric and I get on very well, don’t we, old chap?»
«Will you take me riding, Llion?» Alaric asked, grinning into the face of his mentor.
«If your parents agree, of course I shall take you riding», Llion replied. «I’ve even brought your favorite mount». He glanced back at a rawboned chestnut standing hipshot with Trevor and a much finer steed.
«I hope you don’t mind, my lord. Having no horse of my own, I took the liberty of seconding old Cockleburr. Lord Hamilton said it would be all right. He isn’t much to look at, but he’s sound enough for work like this — and I figured he’d be little missed at Coroth. Besides that, your son likes him. Do we camp here for the night, sir, or do we carry on for a while?»
Kenneth smiled and briefly clasped a hand to Llion’s shoulder. «We have a few more miles to go, but I see no reason why Alaric shouldn’t ride with you and Cockleburr. And we’ll see about getting you a better mount at Cynfyn».
«But Papa, I like Cockleburr!» Alaric began.
«Which is why he shall become your horse, once you’ve learned to ride him properly», Kenneth replied, watching the boy’s eyes light with joy. «But you must do as Sir Llion asks», he added. «I’m putting you in his charge».
«Oh, yes, Papa! Thank you, Papa!»
«And I thank you as well, my lord», Llion murmured, gratitude in his eyes as he nodded to Kenneth. «You have given me hope of a real future. I shall do my best to be worthy of your trust».
Kenneth only nodded in turn before following after Alyce, who was already mounting up again with Zoë.