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centuries. He stumbled back to his bed almost blind with tears of rage that he prayed Riordan
would attribute to his sensitive nature. He sobbed into his pillow for a long time before he
finally drifted into uneasy sleep for the few hours remaining before Lauds.
More than a week passed before Denis finally found legitimate cause to be in the sacristy
alone, washing cruets and sorting linens after a weekday Mass. By then, of course, no trace
remained of the mischief of the ordination Mass. Nor had he expected any.
A week after that, however, Denis was able to convey his suspicions to his older brother
Jamyl, come to visit him one balmy Sunday afternoon. Sir Jamyl Arilan was a rising luminary
at court: friend and confidant of young King Brion Haldane, a newly appointed member of
Brion's council of state, and, unbeknownst even to Brion, a Deryni of extremely thorough
training. Jamyl had other powerful friends besides those at court, too very highly placed
Deryni connections who commanded even the men who had taught the two Arilan brothers in
secret. Denis hoped Jamyl might enlist their aid in his behalf.
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"Sweet Jesu. Den, if this were coming from anyone but you, I wouldn't believe it," Jamyl
muttered under his breath, when Denis had imparted all he knew about Jorian's betrayal
through words and psychic recall. "What you've described is incredible and, if true, nearly
impossible to counter without subverting the staff of every bishop in Gwynedd. Maybe you
should just give it up."
The heavy weight that had grown in Denis' stomach as he started his recounting rose to
his throat. He had been afraid his brother would say that.
"Jamyl, I can't do that. What reason could I give? I'm to be ordained in February. I've
done too well here. If I left so soon after Jorian, they might suspect why and that could
endanger all of us. Besides, I have to do it for Jorian."
Jamyl bowed his head, flicking the end of a riding crop against his boot as he stared at
the ground between his feet.
"It isn't going well for Jorian, you know," he said quietly. "I've been keeping tabs on the
progress of his trial, but I can't do anything more direct. De Nore's had his inquisitors at him
ever since the night he was brought in. The boy doesn't know enough to really incriminate
anyone besides himself yourself excepted, of course, and maybe me "
"Jorian won't betray us " Denis began hotly.
"Easy! I never said he would! They're running out of patience with him, though. And
when they finally do "
Denis swallowed hard. "I know," he whispered. "Father Riordan says they'll burn him."
"Father Riordan is a perceptive man," Jamyl said neutrally.
Denis fought down the lump in his throat and looked away, blinking back tears.
"What about the king?" he ventured, after a moment. "Couldn't he do something? He
doesn't hate Deryni."
Sadly, Jamyl shook his head. "Sheltering the odd Deryni at his court is one thing, Den;
trying to pardon one who's broken canon law is quite another. Brion doesn't know about me
and young Alaric Morgan is only half Deryni and son of a man who was close to Brion's
father. Besides, he's only thirteen.
"But Jorian de Courcy not only defied canon law, he tried to undermine the Church's
hierarchy. The bishops can't let that go by and Brion can't meddle in the affairs of the Church
without endangering his own status. The bishops traditionally have turned a blind eye to the
Haldane powers in the past but they mightn't, if a Haldane king tried to push too hard."
"What about your Deryni friends, then?" Denis demanded. "They had us trained; they set
up Jorian and me to infiltrate the priesthood. They may not be able to help him and I'm sure
he understands that; we both knew all along that a risk was involved but now that I've found
out what we're up against, why can't they help figure out a way to counter it?"
"I'll see if they can," Jamyl said.
"You will?" Denis stared up at his brother in amazement. "Do you think they really
could?"
"I can't promise anything, but I'll certainly look into it. Can you get away for a few
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days?"
"Probably not until Christmas. Something important is supposed to happen around
Martinmas at least that's what student gossip says. In any event, all home visits are
canceled."
"You don't know?" Jamyl said, an odd, strained look on his face.
"Know what?"
"Martinmas is when they'll burn him, Den."
II
In the nearly three months until Martinmas, Denis Arilan received but one brief letter
from his brother.
To all outward appearance, the letter contained only family news. The seal on the letter
gave Denis additional information, however keyed by Deryni magic to be accessible only to a
Deryni, and then only the specific Deryni for whom the message was intended.
The news was not good, though not concerning Jorian de Courcy, in any case.
According to Jamyl, the archbishop's tribunal had, indeed, condemned Jorian and set his
execution for Martinmas at Arx Fidei, to make an example of him. But Jamyl's Deryni
contacts, though unable to do anything for Jorian, had at least come up with a possible plan to
help Denis.
They'll need to discuss details with you in person, however, Jamyl had informed him in
the seal. What we have in mind will be risky, both for you and for those who are minded to
help you, but they are willing to take the risk if you are. Shortly after Martinmas, do not be
surprised to hear that I am deathly ill and may be dying. That will be your ruse to come
home for a few days.
But before the journey home must come another, more terrible journey this one
Jorian's, not Denis'. True to Jamyl's prediction, the ecclesiastical authorities brought Jorian de
Courcy back to Arx Fidei, that his fellow seminarians might see firsthand what happened to
Deryni who attempted to circumvent the Law of God. No one, from the lowliest junior cleric of
fourteen to the abbot himself, would be excused from attending.
Martinmas dawned clear and glorious, bright with the promise of a day rare in
November, hardly a hint of coming winter in the early morning breeze. Father Riordan stood in
for the abbot at morning prayer, for Calbert was already closeted with the archbishop and his
staff, who had arrived with the condemned Jorian the night before. Afterward, Riordan led the
school to the square outside the abbey church, where scores of students from neighboring
schools and a handful of curious outsiders already had gathered to see a Deryni burn.
Denis hardly recognized his friend as the gaunt and stumbling Jorian was led in chains to
the stake erected in the center of the yard. No bruises or stripes of the lash or other sign of
physical torture marked his body, but Denis could almost count every rib, even from across the
yard. By his slack expression and general air of disorientation, Denis guessed he also was
under the influence of merasha again, and wondered whether they had kept him drugged all the
months of his imprisonment.
One thing Denis knew they had done almost immediately was to suspend Jorian's priestly
function, cruelly separating him from exercise of the only privileges that might have brought
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