But an irate populace and a militant Church soon forgot that deliverance as well as bondage had come from Deryni lords. They soon ceased to make a distinction among Deryni.

Within fifteen years of the Restoration, not even the space of a generation, Deryni found themselves victims of one of the bloodiest persecutions ever witnessed by civilized man. The numbers of the Deryni were reduced by two-thirds in a lightning purge. And those who survived either went into hiding and denounced their heritage or lived a fearful and uneasy life under the protection of the few human lords who remembered how it had really been.

Over the years, the memory eased. The persecution burned itself out in all but the most hardened fanatics. A few selected Deryni families rose once again to guarded prominence. But magic, if it was used at all, was exercised with extreme care and discretion. Most Deryni, of whatever class, simply refused to use their powers, for whatever cause. Discovery without protection could mean death.

Among the Haldanes, however, the original magic of the Restoration carried on. And it became gradually accepted, if not openly acknowledged, that the rulers of Gwynedd and certain other of the Eleven Kingdoms possessed special powers, somehow mysteriously related to their divine right of rule. The Deryni origin of these powers was not spoken of, if indeed it was remembered. But it was those powers, passed by ritual from father to son for nearly two hundred years, that had enabled Brion to defeat the Marluk fifteen years ago.

Jehana’s feud with Morgan had really begun even before that historic battle—though not at the very beginning. When Brion first brought the auburn-haired princess home to be his queen, Morgan had rejoiced with all of Gwynedd at the royal love match. He had been the king’s squire then, and infatuated like all the king’s young men at court with the lovely bride. Morgan, in the fervor of his first adolescent longing, adored her. For Jehana brought with her a new gaiety and splendor to the Court of Rhemuth. The people loved her for it.

Then came the day Brion casually let slip the fact of Morgan’s half-Deryni ancestry. Jehana’s face had gone pale. And after that, very soon after that, the fateful war with the Marluk.

He still remembered that day vividly, now many years past, when he and Brion, flushed with their recent victory over the Marluk, had ridden back to Rhemuth at the head of the jubilant army.

He remembered how proud Brion had been of the boy-man Morgan, then but a few months past fourteen, as the pair of them romped excitedly into Jehana’s chambers to boast of the victory. And the look of guarded horror and desperation that had come over Jehana’s face as she realized her husband had held his throne and won his victory with the help of Deryni magic.