Barrett de Laney, who had remained largely silent, jutted his chin in the direction of Oisín.

«What would it take, to get Morian back to Rhemuth to meet his nephew?» he asked.

«The king would have to summon him», Seisyll said promptly. «Or Morian would have to present a convincing reason for a personal visit to Rhemuth, something requiring that he report to the king in person. Or», he added, at Barrett's gesture encouraging further development of this line of thinking, «the governor could be induced to send him to the king on some convincing pretext — and Morian does have the governor's ear… and the situation in Meara is sufficiently volatile that Iolo Melandry does send regular reports to Rhemuth, and might want an occasional report to carry the weight of Morian's verification that the information he's been gathering is true».

«My thinking, precisely», Barrett said with a faint, tight smile. «Oisín, could you work with that?»

«You mean, could I approach Morian and ask him to manipulate the governor, to get himself sent to Rhemuth?» Oisín replied.

«Exactly that».

Oisín considered briefly, then nodded, grinning. «I can be in Ratharkin within the next week. We shall see what can be arranged».

There was no working Portal in the palace at Ratharkin, but one had been established decades earlier at a manor half a day's ride north of the city, formerly held by a Deryni lord but now occupied by a minor baron of the Old Mearan aristocracy. Oisín Adair sold horses regularly to Sir Evan Sullivan, whose daughter had married a Connaiti princeling, and Oisín also had set certain controls in Sir Evan so that he could show up unannounced and obtain use of a horse without anyone remarking on his sudden presence. Accordingly, not a fortnight after his meeting with the Council, Oisín made his way to the Portal at Sir Evan's manor of Arkella, borrowed a horse, and set out for Ratharkin, arriving at midmorning.

The R'Kassan cream that he was riding turned heads as he drew rein in the stable yard, and seemed to conjure most of the stableboys and squires within minutes — and also the attention of the animals Oisín had delivered to Governor Melandry a few weeks before, who whickered and called to the new arrival; R'Kassan creams seemed to prefer the company of other cream horses, and had eyes for no steed of any other color.

The commotion also produced Iolo Melandry himself, who cast an appraising eye over Oisín's mount.

«That almost looks like one of the beasts from Arkella», he said.

«It is one of the beasts from Arkella», Oisín replied, to forestall too much speculation. «My own threw a shoe not far from there, and I had to walk there and beg the use of this one. I mayn't stay long, for I've business in Kindaloo on the morrow, but I hoped I might impose briefly for some refreshment. It's a ferocious hot day».

«Then, you must come in and take some wine with me», Iolo said, blissfully unaware that Oisín was encouraging his impulse for hospitality. «And I shall ask Sir Morian to join us. He shares our love of fine horseflesh, as you know».

Oisín did know, and had planted that observation as well. Within minutes, the two of them were sitting beneath a breezy, shaded porch atop the palace walls, sipping chilled wine while Iolo reported on the progress of the horses he had bought from Oisín, and the difficulty of finding good trainers.

Very shortly, Morian ap Lewys du Joux made his appearance, booted and spurred from an earlier ride, and buckling a silver-mounted Kheldouri dirk over a loose-fitting tunic of cool Cassani linen that fell to mid-thigh. In contrast to this relaxed attire, he wore his auburn hair sleeked back severely in a soldier's knot, braided and clouted at the nape of the neck. Though he and Oisín affected only casual pleasure to meet again, a quick communication passed silently between them, such that, as Morian came to take the cup of wine Iolo offered, the merest contact of their hands was sufficient for Morian to trigger the controls long ago set, taking the governor instantly from full awareness into drowsing trance.

When Morian had deepened that trance, instructing his subject to relax and enjoy his wine, he pulled a stool closer to sit beside Oisín as the two of them gazed out over the city.

«I am somewhat surprised to see you here», Morian said to him aside, sipping at his wine.

«No more surprised than I, to be sent», Oisín replied. «I have a somewhat delicate mission for you».

«Indeed».

«You have never met your nephew, I think», Oisín said.

Morian turned to gaze directly at Oisín. His eyes were a startling deep blue, almost violet.

«My sister's child», he said. «And why would I want to do that?»

Offering his open hand, Oisín invited a direct link, smiling faintly as the other instead touched fingertips lightly to his wrist. But the contact was sufficient for the necessary rapport, by which Oisín quickly imparted the Council's speculations regarding the child — and their suspicions regarding the death of Morian's brother-in-law, and the king's probable part in it, and possibly Jessamy's as well.

Morian said nothing as he drew his hand away, also ending the rapport, only taking up his cup again to sip at his wine as he gazed out over the city.

«I haven't seen my sister above a dozen times in the past thirty years», he finally said, not looking at Oisín. «Sief discouraged it — and I understand why. But what you've suggested is — quite astonishing». He glanced into his cup, speculating aloud.

«Poor Sief. We never really got on, but he didn't deserve that. I was got away from my father before I could be 'tainted' — I know what he's said to have done — but Sief never trusted my sister. An odd basis for a marriage, don't you think?»

«Better to marry than to burn, to quote Holy Writ out of context», Oisín said. «In the case of your sister, better to marry her off than to kill her off. At least you didn't face that».

«No». Morian sighed. «Very well, I'll do it. It will take some time to set up an excuse to go to Rhemuth — or to have Iolo send me».

«Understood», Oisín agreed. «I think there is no great urgency, since the boy is not yet two — and it's understood that you'll need to make careful preparations. But we do need to know what we're dealing with».

Morian shook his head, still trying to take in the concept of a nephew who might also be the son of the King of Gwynedd.

«Morian», Oisín said softly, guessing the line of the other's thinking, «it isn't as if we're simply talking about another royal bastard».

«I know that», Morian replied. «And if it was done, it appears to have been done deliberately — and if deliberately, then for a reason. The question is, what reason?»

«We'll worry about that once we discover whether he is Donal Haldane's son», Oisín said, tipping back the rest of his wine. «I'd best be off — or shall I stick around, so that you don't have to explain my sudden departure to the governor?»

«No, go ahead. I might as well begin setting up the idea of sending me to Rhemuth, while I already have him in control. And if I'm going to do that, it's easy enough to cover your departure».

«As you will, then», Oisín replied, standing. «Good luck to you».

In fact, it did not prove feasible to go to Rhemuth that season or even the next, for the rumblings of unrest in Meara were sufficiently troubling that Iolo Melandry preferred to keep his aide close by his side — or else out in the field gathering intelligence, as only a Deryni might do. During those two years, the king sent his brother Richard twice to that troubled province to observe and report back, and sensed that the time was approaching when only his own presence would suffice to restore order.

But he put it off, because unrest of another sort was brewing closer to home, in Carthane to the south, where an itinerant bishop called Oliver de Nore was gaining notoriety for his rigorous enforcement of the Statutes of Ramos — yet another cause for concern to the Camberian Council.