Pivoting precisely, he re-entered the apartment, Morgan close behind him, and the door bolt shot home with a note of finality.

The queen, after a moment’s hesitation, retired resignedly in the direction of her own apartments. And Ian, following the departing group of courtiers and lords, beckoned for a guard to follow him as he headed down a side corridor.

AS the door closed and bolted, Kelson finally gave way to the strain, clutching at a handful of Morgan’s cloak as he crumpled in a limp heap at the general’s feet. Morgan picked him up, scowling grimly as he carried the boy to the royal bed, and Duncan at last emerged from his hiding place on the balcony.

“Hmmm, it’s cold out there,” Duncan commented, blowing on his hands as he approached the other side of the bed. “Is he all right?”

“He will be,” Morgan said, loosening the boy’s collar and beginning to unlace the red velvet doublet. “It cost him a lot to force himself back like that, though. I thought you said he’d sleep until morning.”

Duncan felt the boy’s forehead, then began unwrapping the wounded hand. “Be grateful that he didn’t. You’d have had a hard time explaining things to those guards. It wasn’t easy, as it was.”

He grunted approval, then rebandaged Kelson’s hand. Morgan unfastened the boy’s cloak and pulled it out from under him, then lifted his shoulders so Duncan could remove the doublet. As he did, Kelson opened his eyes.

“Morgan? Father Duncan?” he questioned weakly.

“We’re here, my prince,” Morgan replied, laying the boy back on his pillows.

Kelson turned his head to the right and found Morgan.

“Morgan, did I do all right?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper. “I’m afraid I sounded rather pompous.”

“You did just fine.” Morgan smiled. “Your father would have been very proud of you.”

Kelson smiled weakly and turned his eyes toward the ceiling. “I saw him, Morgan. And I heard his voice—before, I mean. He called my name, and then—” He turned his head toward Duncan. “It was like being wrapped in silk, or woven sunlight—no, moonlight. And there was someone else, too, Father Duncan. A man with a shining face and golden hair—but it wasn’t you, Morgan. I remember I was frightened at first, but then—”

“Hush, now, my prince,” Morgan said, reaching across to lay his hand on the boy’s forehead. “You must sleep now and rest. Sleep now. I shall not be far away.”