Such a child would actually be a double threat, both a Haldane and a grandson of Lewys ap Norfal — and that, too, must be dealt with. He wondered whether it might be possible to steal away the child — for certainly, it would be dangerous in the extreme, to let him remain under his mother's influence, if he was, indeed, Donal Haldane's son. Indeed, if the boy was Donal's son…
«It may be necessary to kill the child», he found himself saying, somewhat to his horror. «If Donal Haldane has fathered a son on the daughter of Lewys ap Norfal, it cannot be allowed to reach maturity».
Chapter 6
«Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour».[7]
Khoren’s flat statement only verbalized what the rest of them had been reluctant to voice. Though killing was not unknown to the Camberian Council, either to protect other Deryni or to thwart illicit activities by wayward exemplars of their race, it was usually in the context of defense or judicial execution, even if made to look like death by natural or accidental causes. To take the life of an innocent babe, even a potentially dangerous one, required a ruthlessness that was anathema to any civilized society. Further, it smacked of the policies of pitiless extermination that had characterized the years of Deryni persecution following the Haldane Restoration. Yet to let the child live only added to the possible danger, and made its eventual elimination all the more heart-wrenching for all concerned.
«What if the child is not Donal's?» Dominy murmured, looking as distressed as the rest of them felt. «And even if it is, it might not manifest potentials that would be dangerous. Surely we can afford to delay, until we know for certain».
The plea gave all of them an excuse to back down from any immediate decision, especially until the child could be examined. After further discussion, it was agreed that the matter might be tabled until Seisyll should return from Meara, since he had most ready access to the court. Michon, meanwhile, would linger in Rhemuth, on the chance that he might find opportunity to pursue the investigation.
«It only remains, then, to make a final decision about our vacant Council seat», Michon said, with a confirming glance at the others. «Khoren, as you undoubtedly have gathered, it is not our usual practice to immerse a new member in our affairs before certain oaths are sworn, but you have acquitted yourself well. May we assume that you are, indeed, willing to serve?»
Khoren flicked his gaze to each of them, in return, well aware of the extraordinary responsibility that went with agreement, then inclined his head.
«Volo», he said. I am willing.
«Excellent», Michon said. «You are aware, of course, that those certain oaths will still be required of you».
«Of course».
«Tonight perhaps is not the best time», Vivienne said. «We have summoned you from a wedding feast, and the oaths by which we bind our number are best sworn… with a clearer head».
Khoren quirked her a grim smile.
«It's certain I've not been fasting», he said. «When would you prefer?»
Casually Oisín reached across to clasp Khoren's wrist, using the physical link to probe his degree of inebriation.
«It can be done in a few days», he said. «Meanwhile, I shall only remind you that what is discussed here goes not beyond these walls. One of us can bind you to that prohibition, but I think there is no need. You're aware what is at stake».
At Khoren's nod, both of acknowledgement and agreement, Oisín withdrew both his hand and the link.
«Perhaps a week, then, if we are all in agreement», Michon said. «You shall be given ample time to prepare».
And so it was agreed.
In fact, several weeks passed before that task could be accomplished, though this changed nothing regarding access to Jessamy's infant son. Prince Khoren Vastouni was duly pledged to the Camberian Council at midsummer: a season that brought its own new worries for the court of Gwynedd.
At least the crises of that summer of 1082 were of a more common variety than what the Council feared. Negotiations in Meara continued to stall, and Seisyll Arilan's return along with them, but domestic matters throughout the Eleven Kingdoms gave increasing cause for more immediate concern.
Little rain had fallen for many months. As the verdant plains of Gwynedd dulled to gold and then to brown, farmers turned their energies to hay-making, which was abundant, but other crops began to suffer. And as a sultry June gave way to even fiercer heat in July, word came of the sudden illness of the queen's mother, Gwenaël, Sovereign Queen of Llannedd, beset by a canker of the breast.
Immediately Queen Richeldis made ready to depart for Llannedd, to attend on her mother during this time of crisis. Jessamy, though but lately recovered from childbed, made certain of her own inclusion in the queen's party, for the journey would provide a timely ploy to remove her from the court for a few weeks, hopefully beyond the reach of any of Sief s friends who might have suspicions about his death. Seisyll Arilan was safely removed in Meara, for the moment, and Michon de Courcy had not been seen at court since Krispin's christening, but she knew not what others might come sniffing around. It was somewhat worrisome that, if they did, Donal would be somewhat left to their mercy, should a connection somehow have been made between the king's presence and Sief’s death; but after seeing him matched against Sief, she decided that Donal probably was well capable of looking after himself.
As for young Krispin, surely he could not be safer than in the royal nursery with Prince Brion. Whatever Sief’s friends might think of her — and there was nothing whatever to link her with her husband's death, other than that she was present when it occurred — what part could a two-day-old babe have had in it? She knew that, later on, signs of his true paternity might start to emerge, to the consternation of her enemies; but not yet, and probably not for many years. No, for now it was safe enough to leave him — and infinitely safer for her to absent herself from closer scrutiny.
The queen's party sailed for Llannedd the day after receiving the news: Richeldis and Jessamy and four more of the queen's ladies, plus a handful of domestic servants from the royal household and a score of knights as escort, under command of Duke Richard Haldane. They went by royal barge as far as Concaradine, for it was thought that travel by water would be easier on the women than a journey overland, especially in the heat and with the queen still suffering from morning sickness.
But the weather remained sultry and hot, with nary a breath of air stirring as they made their slow progress downriver. Spirits wilted and tempers began to fray. At Concaradine, the party transferred to a royal galley, better suited for sea travel along the southern coast of Llannedd, but still with no wind to swell the sail. The men at the galley's sweeps suffered from the heat, and the river was sluggish, running low, making a navigation hazard of sandbars that ordinarily were well-covered.
Not until they were passing off Nyford did a light breeze at last rustle the galley's red canvas; even then, the heat hardly abated. But as they sailed at last into the bay below the Llanneddi capital of Pwyllheli, with Gwynedd's royal banner flying at the masthead, they could hear the muffled knell of the great cathedral bells tolling the passing of Queen Gwenaël.
Shock and grief, coupled with the heat, caused Queen Richeldis to miscarry, too soon even to determine the gender of the child. Beset with weeping, grieving over this dual loss, she lay despondent at Pwyllheli for several days, recovering physical health with the relative resilience of youth but less quick to heal in spirit.