“Saint Camber of Culdi, defend us from evil!” Morgan whispered, echoing Duncan’s unspoken words. “My God, Duncan, do you think I really did have a vision?”

Duncan shook his head solemnly and gave the parchment back to Morgan. “I don’t know,” he whispered, unconsciously wiping his palms against his cassock. “Alaric, I—this puts a slightly different light on what we’re doing. Let me think about it for a minute or two.”

Turning away from his companion, Duncan briefly covered his face with his hands to regain his composure, then forced himself to consider this new information.

He was frankly uncertain, now. As priest as well as Deryni, he was well aware how slender was the balance between good and evil. As Deryni, there was no doubt in his mind that Camber of Culdi had, indeed, been the savior of his people in the dark times following the Deryni coup. Why, it was Camber himself who had discovered that the Deryni powers could sometimes be shared with humans. That was what had ended the Deryni Interregnum almost two hundred years before, what had made it possible for men like Brion Haldane to stand against the forces of evil and defeat the awesome powers of the Marluk.

But, Camber of Culdi—the very name chilled the part of him that was priest. For though the Deryni lord had, indeed, earned sainthood following his death (or disappearance, at any rate), that sainthood had been rescinded long ago by a fearful Church—that same Church that had declared all Deryni powers to be forbidden, inherently evil.

He resisted a sudden impulse to cross himself in defense against the infamous name, then mentally shook himself back to sanity.

Saint or demon, Camber of Culdi evidently had been well revered by Brion Haldane. And if Brion, who had done so much good for his people, had invoked the name of Camber—no, Saint Camber, by God!—then it was unthinkable to suspect there could be evil attached to that name.

As for Alaric’s vision, he would have to reserve judgment on that question until later. Quite candidly, Duncan was not much more inclined to believe in visions than Alaric was. And yet, stranger things than that had surely happened. . . .

He turned back to his cousin with a sheepish expression on his face.

“Well?” Morgan ventured. He did not pretend to fathom what had just occurred in his kinsman’s mind.

Duncan shrugged apologetically. “I’m all right. It was the priest warring with the Deryni in me again.” He smiled faintly and sent the compressed images of his reverie toward his cousin in the same instant.

Morgan gave a wry grin. “I see.” He nodded. “I just wish we had a little better idea what we were doing. I feel as though I’m walking in the dark.”