For the king, it was a time to assess both the events of the summer and the likely events of the coming year, for the chill winds of autumn whispered increasingly of the growing disquiet in Meara. The intelligence Richard had gathered during his summer progress north of Meara only confirmed it; and Jared Earl of Kierney, who had traveled back to Rhemuth with the duke the month before, was able to offer further insights and speculations.

The Mearan prince born three summers before was reported to be thriving, and rumors suggested that his mother, the Princess Onora, might be once again with child. Iolo Melandry, the royal governor in Ratharkin, declared himself convinced that serious rebellion was brewing, and Jessamy's brother Morian had uncovered several serious instances of sedition.

The warning signs could not be ignored. Late in November, once the snows had rendered any serious military threat unlikely, the king began quietly summoning certain of his key vassals and commanders from the north and west to attend him in Rhemuth, soliciting their recommendations, beginning to hammer out plans for a probable campaign in the spring.

Among those summoned to the king's counsels was Ahern de Corwyn, fresh from his successes of the previous summer. After but a few days of watching him interact with the other commanders, Donal of Gwynedd began sounding out his brother about the possible reactions to knighting Ahern at the upcoming Twelfth Night court.

«So, what do you think?» the king asked, after reeling off his reasons. «Are there apt to be objections?»

«None that will be voiced», Richard replied. «Other than from churchmen, perhaps, because of what he is. In any other candidate, the knee would have put him out of the running — it is a handicap, when he's afoot. But you'll find few better in the council chamber, as we've seen this week; and I've sparred with him often enough to know that he swings a mean sword. Even with his bum knee, put him on a horse and he can ride circles around me — and even around you, when you were in your prime».

Donal chuckled, well aware that he was quite past that prime, but gratified that there were others willing and able to deal with the more physically demanding aspects of rulership — and not really minding that that part of his life was now behind him.

«I'll take that as a compliment to him, rather than a snide comment by a younger brother on my advancing age», Donal said. «But you're right — all that bashing and thrashing is for younger men. Fortunately, young Ahern is well qualified for both — and for the more subtle disciplines of the council table and strategy board. If that business at Kiltuin had to happen, I'm glad it happened the way it did, because it gave me an opportunity to watch him at work. In time, he could even be the equal of Damian Cathcart, or Jeppe Lascelles at Killingford».

«Christ, I remember meeting General Jeppe when he was a very old man», Richard murmured. «If you're comparing Ahern to him, we've a real treat to look forward to, by the time he reaches his prime. I'd definitely go ahead and knight him, Donal — and I'd also confirm him in his Lendour title».

«Really? The bishops wouldn't like that», Donal reminded him.

«Of course they wouldn't like it. He's Deryni, and they're bishops, and by the letter of the law, no Deryni may come into the full authority of high rank until he reaches the age of twenty-five. Not fourteen, and not even eighteen, but twenty-five. Those are stupid laws, Donal, and you should change them».

«I've thought about it», Donal conceded. «And one day, I might just do it. But in the meantime, I do have to keep at least a reasonable peace with my bishops. Did I tell you that the Bishop of Corwyn wouldn't even celebrate the Requiem for Ahern's sister? The family chaplain did it.

«Fortunately, the bishops aren't going to excommunicate me or him for confirming him to an earl's coronet before he turns eighteen. We're only talking about a few months, after all; and given his past services to my crown, there's no question but that he's prepared to put his life and his talents on the line again, in my service».

«It's the talents that the bishops don't like», Richard pointed out. «And they'd happily take his life».

«Well, not until I've had his service in Meara again», Donal declared. «And meanwhile, come Twelfth Night court, I intend to knight him and confirm him as Earl of Lendour. We'll save the ducal recognition until they've gotten used to a Deryni earl».

Alyce de Corwyn was one of the few with advance knowledge of the king's plans regarding her brother — necessary, since it was she who had the privilege of girding him with his white belt. Sir Jovett Chandos buckled on the golden spurs, and it was Sir Sé Trelawney, arrived only minutes before the ceremony, who presented him with his sword, black-clad and silent as he knelt to watch the king's Haldane blade flash above the head of his childhood friend, the flat of it touching right shoulder, left shoulder, and head.

Ahern himself was not able to kneel as the three other young men did, who were dubbed that afternoon, but the king had made a point of reiterating the high points of the new knight's exemplary service, both the summer previous and three years before, and personally assisted him to rise from the faldstool moved into place before he was called forward.

And while the Archbishop of Rhemuth cast cold glances at the king, both then and later, when Ahern was called forward to be formally invested as Earl of Lendour, the king again spoke of Ahern's sterling service hitherto, and kissed him on both cheeks before placing the coronet upon his brow and the gold signet on his finger, emblematic of his new legal status.

When Ahern reiterated the fealty he had sworn at his knighting, now pledging further leal fidelity as earl, several dozen knights of Lendour and of Corwyn knelt at his back, affirming their support and loyalty as well. Though Gwynedd's clergy might have their doubts about this setting aside of the law, Ahern's record spoke for itself among Donal's other knights. If any disagreed, no one spoke out.

As for Sir Sé Trelawney, present as promised, he appeared much changed in the months since Alyce last had seen him. His long black robe, fastened at the shoulder, had a vaguely eastern look to it, unrelieved by any color save the white slash of his own knight's belt. In truth, he looked as much the monk as warrior now, a close-clipped beard exaggerating the leaner lines of a form that now was almost ascetic in its sparseness.

Afterward, he had words of congratulation for Ahern, and a kiss on the cheek each for Alyce and Zoë, but he did not stay long after court, quietly riding off into the snow whence he had come, while the hall cleared to set up for the feast.

I think he may have made profession with the Anvilers, Alyce whispered mind to mind to Vera, who was seated across from her and sharing a trencher with an exceedingly attentive Earl Jared McLain. I had hoped he might stay longer.

Vera, offering Jared a morsel of succulent pheasant lavished with plum sauce, spared her sister a sympathetic glance.

I'm sorry, she sent. I know you were fond of him.

Turning her attention back to the revelry in the hall, Alyce forced a resigned smile as she lowered her head slightly to listen to a comment from Sir Jovett, seated on her other side.

Her brother, meanwhile, seemed to be quite enjoying the company of Zoë Morgan. He had put aside his coronet, but his gold signet flashed in the light of candle and torch as they fed one another tidbits. Sometimes his lips nibbled near her fingertips, or his hand lingered near hers, occasionally caressing the back of a hand, brushing a wrist. Later in the evening, Alyce saw the two of them standing in a shadowed recess of one of the window embrasures, Ahern with one hand set on her waist and she with her face upturned to receive his chaste kiss, fingertips brushing at his chest.