He closed his eyes and concentrated on summoning up the healing strength he was searching for, concentrated on making Derry whole again. It was cold in the corridor where he knelt in the shadows, but the sweat began to pour down his face and drip onto his hands, startling as it splashed.

But then came something far more startling. For just an instant, he had the fleeting impression of another pair of hands on top of his, of another presence pouring through him, giving life and strength to the still form beneath his hands.

His eyes flicked open in astonishment. Derry had given a deep sigh—and it had not been a final death-rattle. And now, as Morgan watched, the younger man’s eyelids trembled, and his breathing shifted to that of deep sleep.

Fascinated, Morgan removed his hands from over Derry’s wound and plucked at the blood-soaked handkerchief. He faltered for just an instant, half fearing to break the spell, then gingerly peeled the handkerchief away.

And the wound beneath was gone, healed, vanished—without a scar or mark to show where it had been, save for the bloodstains around it! Morgan stared at his hands in disbelief, then hastily checked Derry’s bandaged wrist. That, too, had healed! He rocked back on his heels, unable to accept what had just occurred.

Then came a voice from behind that turned his blood to ice, raising all the tiny hairs on the back of his neck.

“Well done, Morgan!” the voice said.

CHAPTER TEN - “Even as Father, so the Son.”

CHAPTER TEN

“Even as Father, so the Son.”

MORGAN whirled defensively on his haunches, half expecting to see the face of his vision again.

But it was no blond apparition of the long-dead Saint Camber who approached, but the smugly self-satisfied form of Bran Coris. With him, Duke Ewan, Prince Nigel, and a score or more royal courtiers and noblemen strode hurriedly toward the scene of recent carnage. Behind them all came a thoroughly angry Jehana with a pair of her ladies. Bran Coris was the first to arrive.

“Ah, yes. Well done, indeed!” Bran continued. “You’ve finally finished the job, haven’t you? Now you’re the only man alive who knows what really happened on that long ride to Rhemuth!”

Morgan stood carefully as the others arrived and gathered in a knot behind Bran, forcing himself to give a civil answer.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” he replied, signalling one of the surgeons to come and care for Derry, “but he isn’t dead. He has been knocked unconscious but not injured. No doubt an oversight of whoever masterminded this little spectacle tonight.” Morgan had no intention of admitting to his newfound talent. It could only serve to arouse further fear and animosity.