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ran a weary hand through his short brown hair and nodded. “All right, I’ll have to try it. At least I’ll be out of Corrigan’s jurisdiction, once I cross the Corwyn border. Bishop Tolliver has been a friend, of sorts, in the past. I doubt he’d arrest me on Gorony’s word alone. Besides that, Gorony hopefully won’t know about Corrigan’s summons, even if he does get there ahead of me.”
    “It’s settled, then,” Kelson said, standing and nodding in Hugh’s direction. “Father, I thank you for your loyalty. It shall not go unrewarded. But will it be safe for you to return to the archbishop’s palace, after what you’ve told us? I can offer my protection, if you like. Or you could go with Father Duncan.”
    Hugh gave a wan smile. “My thanks for your concern, Sire, but I believe I can serve you best if I return to my duties. I’ll not have been missed yet, and I may be able to tell you more at a later date.”
    “Very well.” Kelson nodded. “Good luck to you, Father.”
    “Thank you, Sire.” Hugh bowed. “And Duncan,” he paused to clasp Duncan’s hand and search his eyes, “be careful, my friend. I don’t know what you’ve done, and I don’t want to know, but my prayers will be with you.”
    Duncan touched his shoulder in reassurance and nodded, and then Hugh was gone. As soon as the door had closed behind him, Duncan picked up the parchment and began refolding it, the crisp rustle the only sound in the silence. Now that he had a plan, his initial anger and shock were well under control, but he watched Kelson as he slipped the letter into his cincture. The boy was standing beside his chair, staring unseeing at the door and apparently oblivious to the presence of anyone else in the room. Nigel still sat at the table across from Duncan, but he, too, had withdrawn into a private world.
    Duncan picked up his goblet and drained it, noticing the bent rim and realizing that he must have done it. He replaced the goblet silently and looked toward Kelson.
    “Sire, I should like to take Hugh’s letter with me, if you have no objections. Alaric will wish to see it.”
    “Yes, of course,” Kelson replied, shaking himself out of his reverie. “Uncle, will you see about the escort? And tell Richard he’s to go along. Father Duncan may have need of a good man.”
    “Certainly, Kelson.”
    Nigel rose gracefully and moved toward the door, clasping Duncan’s shoulder as he passed. Then the door was closed, and there were only the two of them. Kelson had moved to the fireplace as Nigel left, and now he stared moodily into the flames, resting his forehead on folded forearms along the edge of the mantel.
    Duncan clasped his hands behind him and studied the floor uncertainly. There were things that only he and Kelson and Alaric had ever talked about, and he sensed it was something of this nature that was troubling the boy now. He had thought, at the time, that Kelson had taken this evening’s events far too calmly, but he didn’t dare wait much longer to get on the road. Corrigan just might decide to serve that writ tonight. And the longer Duncan waited, the farther ahead Gorony would be with the fateful letter.
    Duncan cleared his throat gently, saw Kelson’s shoulders stiffen at the sound.
    “Kelson,” he said quietly, “I have to go now.”
    “I know.”
    “Is there—any message I should take for Alaric?”
    “No.” The boy’s voice was husky, strained. “Just tell him—tell him—”
    He turned toward Duncan, his face pale, desperate. Concerned, Duncan moved closer and took him by the shoulders to gaze searchingly into the wide, frightened eyes. The boy stood stiff and straight, fists clenched tightly at his sides, not in defiance but in dread. The gray eyes filling with unbidden tears were no longer the eyes of a brave young king who had vanquished evil to keep his throne, but those of a child forced too soon and too long to function as an adult in a complex world.
    Duncan sensed all of