That some of them were Deryni was even less well known. But because their first duty was to their patrons rather than local bishops, and because they tended to keep a low profile, they usually were left alone. Jessamy had met Paschal briefly at Carthanelle, when Keryell of Lendour had given his daughters into the queen's keeping, and she was well aware of who and what he really was.

«Lady Jessamy», Paschal said neutrally, though his eyes showed a hint of wariness at her presence. «I trust you are in good health».

Inclining her head, Jessamy drew the girls with her closer to the fire, and Paschal.

«I am, Father, I thank you», she said, belatedly remembering that she had left Zoë standing anxiously beside the door. «Zoë, come here, child. There's been ill news from Ratharkin. Your father is unharmed, but…»

Marie's hands had flown to her mouth as Jessamy spoke, and she gave a little gasp.

«Is our father dead?» she breathed, her voice quavering with dread.

Wearily Jessamy gave a nod, drawing the younger girl into the circle of her arms and letting Zoë go to Alyce.

«I fear that he is, my dear. I am so very sorry. He fell in the king's service, protecting Duke Richard. I have no further details at this time».

«And what of our brother?» Alyce demanded, clinging to Zoë. «Say that he is not dead as well…»

«He was alive when the news was sent», Jessamy allowed, «though I am informed that he was wounded. But we must not give up hope, dear child».

Going suddenly white, Alyce sank down on the stool where she had been sitting, an anxious Zoë sinking beside her as Marie began sobbing in Jessamy’s arms.

«Our brother is dead, isn't he?» Alyce murmured numbly, starting to shake in Zoë's arms as Father Paschal came to sit on her other side. «He's dead, but you aren't telling us».

At Jessamy's pointed glance toward Zoë, Father Paschal reached across to set his hand on her shoulder, extending controls. As her eyes closed and she slumped against Alyce, Jessamy nodded her thanks and returned her attention to Alyce, all the while stroking Marie's hair.

«Darling, that isn't true», she said truthfully. «I cannot guarantee that he is still alive, but I swear to you that, when the news was sent, he still lived. Read the truth of what I am telling you, Alyce — or Father Paschal can confirm it for you, since I know he has been reading me as we speak. I wish I could give you more certain reassurance, but I cannot, dear heart. You must keep hope alive, and storm heaven with your prayers. They expect that it may take as long as a fortnight for Duke Richard and his party to return to Rhemuth. Meanwhile, the king asks that you return to court».

Jessamy's calm, reasoned statement broke the final barrier holding back Alyce's tears. For the next little while, she leaned against Father Paschal and sobbed her heart out, with Zoë oblivious beside them.

When, finally, the sobbing eased and Alyce raised her head, snuffling and wiping at her eyes with her sleeve, Paschal allowed Zoë to stir, blurring her awareness of the passage of time. As Zoë straightened, she pulled off her veil and handed it to Alyce, who did a more thorough job of wiping her eyes and then blew her nose. Marie, too, had begun to compose herself, and Jessamy pulled off her veil and bade Marie use it mop her face.

«My dears, I am so very sorry», Jessamy murmured. «Would that I could have brought you better news. Shall we ask Zoë to bring you something warm to drink?»

Alyce started to shake her head, still dabbing at her nose, but Jessamy was already urging Zoë to go, and Father Paschal was also indicating that this was a good idea. When Zoë had gone, Marie came to sit beside her sister, laying her head on Alyce's shoulder and snuffling softly. Alyce glanced around listlessly, hugging her arms across her chest, men whispered, «We shall never come back here, shall we, Tante Jessamy? Now that our father is gone, I fear that the king will see us soon married».

The words transported Jessamy back to the awful night her own father had died, though at least she did not think that Donal would force these girls into a totally detestable match. At least not while their brother yet lived.

«He has said nothing to me on that account», she said truthfully. «And provided your brother recovers — and God grant that he shall! — he will have some say in whom you wed. But this is not the time to worry overmuch about that».

Alyce said nothing, only slipping an arm around her sister's waist, spent by her weeping. I suppose we must go tonight to Rhemuth».

«No, we have the king's leave to delay until tomorrow», Jessamy replied. «And I think you would take comfort in bidding your friends farewell. Perhaps in the morning, before we leave, Father Paschal would offer Mass for your father's soul», she added, with a glance at the priest, who nodded.

«I shall ask Mother Judiana», he said. «I'm certain she will have no objection. And of course I shall accompany you to Rhemuth — and to Cynfyn, after that. My place now must be at Lord Ahern's side — and to comfort his sisters».

Jessamy nodded. «Then, we should see about getting a few things packed, girls. You need not bring much with you…»

«But, what of my books, my manuscripts?..»

«Those can be sent later», Jessamy assured her. «More important just now is to find warmer clothing for both of you, for the ride back to Rhemuth will be cold as well as wet. I did bring some oiled cloaks for you, such as the soldiers wear, well-lined with squirrel, but you will need warm gloves and hats».

«I'm certain those can be found», Alyce said dully. «Oh, Tante Jessamy, what's to become of us?»

«You shall be the toast of the king's court», Father Paschal said with a tiny smile. «And when the time comes, your brother shall find himself inundated with suitors for your hands».

«If he lives», Marie said bleakly.

«Let your laughter be turned to mourning, and your joy to heaviness».[14]

They rode out of Arc-en-Ciel shortly before midday of following morning, though whether the falling snow was better than the rain and sleet of the day before, Jessamy could not say. Alyce and Marie rode together, Jessamy beside the priest, with Sir Jiri's household escort divided ahead and behind and Jiri himself bringing up the rear. All of them were well-muffled against the cold and the very sticky snow, and no one said much. As Jessamy had suggested, they carried little with them.

By the time they reached Rhemuth later that afternoon, the light snowfall of the morning had become far more serious, to the point of seriously slowing their progress. Accordingly, all in their party were weary and chilled to the bone by the time they rode into the castle forecourt. As grooms took the horses on into the stable yard, Sir Jiri Redfearn immediately conducted his party through the great hall and into the withdrawing room behind the dais, pausing en route to let them shed their sodden outer cloaks beside one of the great hall fireplaces.

In winter and in the increasingly chilling days of autumn, Donal was wont to use the chamber as his preferred workroom, and today was dictating correspondence to a clark working at a table near the fire, pacing as he spoke. Behind him, several more men were quietly conversing on a bench and several stools closer to the fire. All of them rose as Jessamy and the two girls entered the room, followed by the priest, and Donal lifted a hand in signal for the dark to cease his writing.

«Brother Brendan, we'll finish that later; you may go», he said. «And the rest of you as well — save for Sir Kenneth. Ladies… please come and warm yourselves by the fire; you must be frozen. And you as well, Father. Please be welcome. Ivone, warm up that wine for them, and Jiri, please ask the queen to join us».