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wasn’t.”
    Morgan sobered instantly and took his feet down from the stool, all levity gone now that the complement was complete. Nigel’s left arm was supported by a black silk sling, a dark bruise purpling his right cheekbone. Other than that, he was almost the image of the dead Brion. Morgan had to make a conscious effort to force that image out of his head.
    â€œNigel, I am sorry. I heard what happened. In fact, we saw the aftermath at Jennan Vale. We couldn’t have been more than a few hours behind you.”
    Nigel grunted noncommittally and lowered his eyes, and Morgan realized that he would have to do something to lighten the mood.
    â€œIt has been an instructive few weeks in other respects, however,” he continued brightly. “Some of the information we picked up in talking to rebel soldiers was very enlightening, even if useless strategically. It’s amazing the number of rumors and semi-legendary notions the common folk seem to have concocted about us.”
    He folded his hands across his waist and sat back in his chair, smiling faintly. “Did you know, for example, that I am rumored to have cloven hooves?” He stretched out his booted feet before him and glanced at them wistfully as the eyes of all present followed his gaze.
    â€œOf course, few people have ever seen my feet without shoes of some sort—especially peasants. Do you suppose it could be true?”
    Kelson grinned in spite of himself, and the three captains exchanged uneasy glances.
    â€œYou’re joking, surely,” Kelson said. “Who could believe a thing like that?”
    â€œHave you ever seen Alaric without shoes, Sire?” Duncan inquired slyly.
    At that moment Derry intruded with a platter of meat, cheese, and bread and extended it with a grin.
    â€œI’ve seen his feet, Sire,” he said, as Morgan speared a gobbet of cold beef on his dagger and took a chunk of bread. “And regardless of what they say, I can assure you that he has no cloven hooves—not even an extra toe.”
    Morgan saluted Derry with the skewered meat and took a bite, then cast an inquiring look at Kelson and Nigel. The royal duke was himself again, sitting back in his chair and smiling faintly, well aware of what Morgan had been trying to do, and that it had succeeded. Kelson, somewhat taken aback at the exchange, glanced from one to the other of them several times before he finally concluded that they were sporting with him. At length, he shook his head and broke into a grin, making a shooing motion toward the three captains, who were only too happy to absent themselves.
    â€œCloven hooves, indeed!” He snorted. “Morgan, for a moment you almost had me believing you.”
    â€œOne cannot labor under tension all the time, Sire,” Morgan said with a shrug and a faint smile. “Now, what news since we left? What has been happening to put you in this agitated frame of mind?”
    Kelson shook his head. “There’s nothing new, really. That may be why I’m so uneasy. I am still trying to decide the best way to end this internal contention, and that brings us back to the basic question of how best to honorably reconcile ourselves with my clergy and my rebellious subjects.”
    Duncan washed down the last of his meat with a swallow of wine and nodded in Kelson’s direction. “We have also given that matter considerable thought in the past few days, my prince. And we’ve about reached the conclusion that the most reasonable approach is first to attempt a reconciliation with the six rebel bishops in Dhassa. They want to help you; their quarrel is with Alaric and me only. You are not involved.”
    â€œThat’s true,” Kelson agreed, considering. “If you could be formally reinstated and cleared of the charges that the Curia brought against you, I could accept their aid without worrying about compromising their honor. I have been reluctant until now