That spring, acting on rumors of growing unrest in Meara, Donal had appointed his half-brother, Duke Richard, to assume active field command of the Gwyneddan Army. Richard, in turn, had spent the summer organizing the Gwynedd levies and drilling the standing units — and to good purpose, for August had seen a royal birth in Meara: a son, to the Princess Onora, who was daughter of the present Mearan pretender, Prince Judhael.

The birth of a male heir had rekindled Mearan aspirations to independence, even though the marriage of Donal's father with Roisian of Meara was to have settled the Mearan succession after the death of her father without male issue. Prince Judhael was Roisian's nephew, son of the Princess Annalind, who had been Roisian's twin.

But the widow of the last prince, the Dowager Princess Urracca, had promoted the cause of Annalind, the younger twin, over that of Roisian, whom she deemed a traitor to her land for having married Malcolm Haldane. All three were now long dead — mother and both daughters — but Annalind's son Judhael had begun to attract renewed support among Mearan separatists. During that winter following the birth of Judhael’s grandson, his wife — who was Llanneddi, aunt to Queen Richeldis — wrote several times to her niece in Rhemuth, warning that, if a Mearan accommodation could not be reached, their respective husbands were headed for war.

All through that winter and into the spring of 1086, much of the gossip and speculation at the court of Rhemuth was focused on the prospect of rebellion brewing in the west. At midsummer, the king gave his brother Richard a commission as acting viceroy of Meara and sent him to Ratharkin to set up a court of inquiry, with instructions to enlist the full assistance of the Lady Jessamy's brother, Sir Morian du Joux. By this, he meant Deryni assistance.

Serving as the prince's advisors and staff were Lord Seisyll Arilan, Sir Kenneth Morgan, and Keryell Earl of Lendour, who brought along his son Ahern. In addition, the king sent summons of array to two of his earls whose holdings lay near Meara's borders, and who thus had a personal interest in holding the peace in Meara: Jared of Kierney and Caulay of Transha, both of them in their youthful prime and both bringing small but powerful levies to enforce the king's authority, if necessary. Finally, as a sign of his personal authority, the king also sent along a squadron of Haldane lancers.

By Lammastide, Duke Richard had assembled his team in Ratharkin and begun to hear grievances. By Michaelmas, it had become clear that most or the Mearan complaints were groundless or trivial, and that the Mearans were but wasting the court's time.

Matters came to a head late in October, though the aftermath fell just short of all-out war. It was Keryell and Ahern who, on the eve of the Feast of All Saints, just managed to foil an assassination plot that might have claimed Richard, the royal governor, and perhaps several more high-ranking Gwyneddan men — except that Ahern de Corwyn had chanced to detect the rebels' intentions before they could be fully carried out, he being young and, therefore, not fully under their suspicion. Nor was it widely known in Meara that he and his father were Deryni.

The concerted response by the king's men was enough to prevent serious harm to Richard himself, but not enough to save Keryell and several Haldane lancers who were cut down in the fighting. Two of the assassins were also killed outright.

«How could this have happened?» Richard whispered, nursing a badly bruised hand in his chambers that night with Seisyll, Morian, and the two young earls whose levies had provided the military force for a successful defense. Sir Kenneth Morgan, tonight acting as Richard's aide, was pouring wine for all of them, and sported a bloodied bandage across his forehead and a blackened right eye. «Jared, how many others did we lose?»

«Five of your Haldane lancers, two of my own, and one of Caulay's, your Highness», Jared replied, «and we could lose several more from their wounds. Keryell's boy may lose a leg. The knee was shattered».

«Damn!» Shaking his head, Richard let it fall heavily onto his undamaged hand. «Bad enough, to lose his father. And now, if he lives, he'll be a cripple all his days».

«Your Highness, this canna be allowed tae go unpunished», Earl Caulay said, his border brogue thick with emotion, for the man he had lost had been a cousin. «If ye dinna nip it in the bud right now, there'll be another full-scale rebellion within five years, mark my words».

«I agree», Seisyll said. «The plot obviously had been long in the planning, and it very nearly succeeded. It seems clear that they were after you — and that is a direct attack on the king your brother».

«I can't argue with that», Richard said. «How many prisoners have we?»

«Eight», Morian replied promptly. «And we killed another ten».

«Did many escape, do you think?» Richard asked.

Seisyll exchanged a glance with Morian. The two of them had gone among the prisoners a few hours earlier, reading their guilt.

«I doubt it», Seisyll said.

«Most of the prisoners are known trouble-makers», Morian added.

Richard slowly lifted his head. At thirty, he was a seasoned warrior, already with a reputation on and off the field, but in this hour he looked far older.

«I am minded to hang them all, gentlemen», he said, «for only by sharp example may we hope to discourage future treachery of this sort. I do not doubt that Caulay is right: that we shall have to mount another punitive expedition here within the next few years. But stern measures now might postpone it a while longer». He sighed. «I like it not, that I must be the one to send word of our losses to my brother. I had not thought to lose him an earl on this mission, and especially not…»

His vague sigh in the direction of Morian made it clear that he was regretting the loss of Keryell's Deryni skills as well as the man himself. The others exchanged grim glances, but when no one else spoke up, Sir Kenneth said gently, «Shall I prepare the execution order, your Highness?»

Word of what Richard had caused to be done reached Rhemuth on a wet and blustery morning some five days later, though he and his returning troops — and the bodies of the slain — would not arrive for another fortnight. With the news from Ratharkin came lists: those killed or executed in the king's name and those who had died in his service.

Donal received the report, both verbal and written, in the snug withdrawing room behind the screens at the end of the great hall, and immediately called for an aide and a clark. Sir Kenneth Morgan had brought the news, muddy and rain-bedraggled, and shifted uneasily from one booted foot to the other as the king read, wringing rain from a sodden hank of sandy hair pulled back at his nape. Doing his best to stifle a sneeze, he let a squire exchange his dripping cloak for a warm, dry blanket and sat as Donal waved him to a stool set close before the fire, gratefully accepting the cup of mulled wine a page thrust into his fist.

«How bad is it really, Kenneth?» the king asked, still scanning the lists.

«Bad enough, Sire», Kenneth replied. «We were very, very lucky that our losses weren't worse».

As Kenneth closed cold-numbed fingers around his cup and took a long pull at his wine, Donal said, «I see here that you and Keryell may well have saved my brother's life — that you were the heroes of the day. Did you know that Richard said that in this letter?»

Kenneth nearly choked on his wine, looking up in surprise mixed with faint discomfiture. A knight of only minor holdings, about to turn forty, he had been the king's loyal servant for more than half his life — still well fit for field or council table, but hitherto quietly resigned that fame and fortune were unlikely to be his.