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he had been jumping his new hunter in the castleyard—but he was carrying a clean packet of parchment in one gloved hand, the green of a Healer’s seal bright against the creamy white.
    Cinhil perked up immediately. “Is he all right? What’s happened? I sent Rhys and Evaine to him this morning.”
    As Jebediah shrugged and handed over the packet—this was obviously the first time he’d heard of the accident—Camber broke the seal and unfolded the stiff parchment. He read the few terse lines of script, penned in Evaine’s precise hand but in Rhys’s unmistakable style, then refolded it and thrust it into his wide sash with a sparse little Alister smile.
    â€œIt seems our friend will be all right, Sire.”
    â€œThank God!”
    â€œRhys says his memory is a little hazy, but his injuries have been completely healed. Apparently Gregory isn’t convinced, however, and insists I come at once to give him the Last Rites.”
    â€œLast Rites?” Cinhil sputtered, almost bringing on another coughing attack.
    â€œNow, Sire,” Camber soothed, “under the circumstances, I think simple Communion will probably be sufficient. I suspect Gregory is merely being dramatic, to make excuses for falling off his horse. Still, he has asked for me, and you’re doing well enough. May I go to him? I should be back by dark, and Jebediah can fetch Tavis, if you should need a Healer before then.”
    â€œLast Rites, indeed!” Cinhil repeated, shaking his head in outraged disbelief, but chuckling just the same. “I’m supposed to be the one who’s dying, and he wants the Last Rites. Oh, go ahead and see him, Alister. But you tell him that I’ll expect to see him here at Court for a full explanation, as soon as he’s able to ride again!”
    â€œThat I shall certainly do, Sire,” Camber replied, returning Cinhil’s chuckle. “Good day, Sire, Jebediah. Joram, we’d best ride, if we’re to get back by dark.”
    When Camber and Joram had left the room, Cinhil sat quietly for several seconds, his grey eyes focused through and beyond the disrupted gameboard, then beckoned Jebediah to come closer.
    â€œJeb, I need you to do something for me.”
    â€œOf course, Sire. What is it?”
    â€œI want you to visit the royal nursery and observe my sons. Talk to their tutors, if you can. Especially, talk to Lord Tavis. You’re Deryni. Perhaps he’ll listen to you. Try to make him see why it’s important to get along with Murdoch and the other governors. Murdoch seems to have some concern about his influence over Javan.”
    â€œSo far as I know, Javan is doing well, Sire,” Jebediah replied, a little guardedly. “His weapons mastery is improving markedly. He hasn’t the agility on foot that his brothers have, of course, but he makes up for it in other ways. And frankly, his wit is much quicker than Alroy’s. It’s too bad that the good points of both boys couldn’t have been put into one.”
    â€œAye, there should never have been two,” Cinhil sighed wistfully. “I wonder why that happens? Their mother was overanxious to give me another heir, God rest her sweet soul. But do check on that for me, will you, Jeb? My time grows short, and I would not leave my sons totally unprepared.”
    And in the corridor outside, Camber drew his son into an alcove and looked furtively up and down the passageway, silencing Joram’s incipient inquiry with a glance and a shake of his head. Taking Rhys’s letter from his sash, he opened it and scanned the lines again, running his fingertip thoughtfully over the seal at the bottom of the page.
    â€œThere’s more to this than meets the eye, Joram. This is no mere whim of Gregory’s. Even injured, he would not summon me without good reason. He knows Cinhil is ill. Nor would Rhys send such a message for him.”
    â€œI didn’t think