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this in less than a heartbeat, and he stared down at the boy in compassion. For all the young king’s maturity, he was still a boy of fourteen—and a frightened one, at that.
    “Kelson?”
    “Please be careful, Father,” the boy whispered, his voice a little strangled with emotion.
    On impulse, Duncan pulled the boy to him and held him close, felt the proud young shoulders shudder convulsively as he surrendered to the rare luxury of tears. As Duncan stroked the silky raven hair, he felt the boy relax, heard the stifled sobbing gradually diminish. He hugged the boy closer still, in a short gesture of comfort, then began to speak softly.
    “Shall we talk about it, son? It isn’t nearly as terrifying if you look it in the eye.”
    “Yes it is,” Kelson sniffed, his voice muffled against Duncan’s shoulder.
    “Oh. Well, now, I don’t like to contradict kings, but I’m afraid I must disagree. Suppose we consider the worst that can possibly happen, and work up from there.”
    “V-very well.”
    “All right, then. What’s on your mind?”
    Kelson pulled away slightly and looked up at Duncan, then wiped his eyes on his sleeve and turned toward the fireplace, still in the protective circle of Duncan’s left arm.
    “What—” he whispered tremulously, “what will happen if you and Alaric are taken, Father?”
    “Hmm, that depends on when and by whom,” Duncan answered lightly, trying to reassure the boy.
    “Suppose Loris captures you?”
    Duncan considered the question. “Well, first I’d have to answer before the ecclesiastical court. If they could prove anything, which is open to debate, they could degrade me from the priesthood, strip away my orders. I might even be excommunicated.”
    “What if they found out you were half-Deryni?” the boy persisted. “Would they try to kill you?”
    Duncan raised a thoughtful eyebrow. “They wouldn’t like it at all if they were to discover that,” he agreed, skirting the issue. “I should imagine I’d be excommunicated for sure, if that were to happen. However, that’s one very good reason I don’t plan to let myself be taken. It would be very awkward, to say the least.”
    Kelson smiled in spite of himself. “Awkward. Yes, I suppose it would be. Could you kill them if you had to?”
    “I’d rather not,” Duncan replied. “Another reason for not allowing them to catch me in the first place.”
    “What about Alaric?”
    “Alaric?” Duncan shrugged. “It’s difficult to say. So far, Loris seems willing to settle for repentance. If Alaric renounces his powers and vows never to use them again, Loris will call off the Interdict.”
    “Alaric will never recant,” Kelson said fiercely.
    “Oh, I’m certain he won’t,” Duncan agreed. “In that case, the Interdict falls on Corwyn, and we will begin to get political as well as religious repercussions.”
    Kelson looked up, startled. “Why political? What will happen?”
    “Well, since Alaric is the stated cause of the Interdict, the men of Corwyn might well refuse to rally under his banner for the summer campaign, thus costing you approximately twenty percent of your fighting force. Alaric will be excommunicated—along with me, I’m sure. And that brings you further into the picture.”
    “Me? How?”
    “Simple. Once Alaric and I are anathema, we carry excommunication with us like a plague. Anyone who associates with us is included in the decree. So that leaves you with two choices. You can obey the dictates of the archbishops and banish me and Alaric, thereby losing your best general on the eve of war. Or you can say the devil with the archbishops, and receive Alaric—and end up with all of Gwynedd under Interdict.”
    “They wouldn’t dare!”
    “Ah, but they would. Up until now, your rank has protected you, my prince. But I fear even that will end shortly. Your mother has seen to that.”
    Kelson hung his head, remembering the scene a week before—how, unwittingly perhaps, his mother had set