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Back Deryni Rising
Chapters (21)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Introduction
  5. CHAPTER ONE - “Princes met and talked against me.” PSALMS 119:23
  6. CHAPTER TWO - “Hell hath no fury like the woman scorned, Or the woman mourning.”
  7. CHAPTER THREE - “And I will give him the morning star.” REVELATIONS 2:28
  8. CHAPTER FOUR - “O God, with your judgement endow the King, and with your ...
  9. CHAPTER FIVE - “And a voice shall speak from legend.”
  10. CHAPTER SIX - “A Spokesman of the Infinite must guide. . . .”
  11. CHAPTER SEVEN - “Things are not what they seem.”
  12. CHAPTER EIGHT - “In the unknown lies terror, and in the night, deceit.”
  13. CHAPTER NINE - “Whence comes the wonder, whence the miracle?”
  14. CHAPTER TEN - “Even as Father, so the Son.”
  15. CHAPTER ELEVEN - “For surely laughter masks a nervous soul.”
  16. CHAPTER TWELVE - “A gilded silver crucifix—yours, Duncan!”
  17. CHAPTER THIRTEEN - “Who, then, is the Defender?”
  18. CHAPTER FOURTEEN - “Defender’s Sign shall seal . . .”
  19. CHAPTER FIFTEEN - “You placed on his head, O Lord, a crown of precious stones. ...
  20. INDEX OF CHARACTERS
  21. INDEX OF PLACE-NAMES

“Not yet, my lord. They’re waiting for some late arrivals. I hope they’re very late—unless, of course, they’re ours.”

Kevin smiled. “I’m Kevin McLain, Alaric’s cousin. And you can skip the formalities if you’re his friend.” He stuck out his hand, and the younger man shook it.

“Sean Derry, his aide.”

“I know who you are,” Kevin said, as he glanced around casually. “Have you picked up any useful gossip? I think everyone in Rhemuth knows Morgan is back by now.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Derry replied. “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” Kevin said, pointing to himself in disbelief. “My friend, I think we’re all in trouble. Do you know what they’re planning to charge him with?”

“I’m afraid to guess.”

Kevin held up one finger. “Number one: heresy. And two?” He held up a second finger. “Treason. Care to guess what the penalty is for either offense?”

Derry sighed and let his shoulders droop dejectedly.

“Death,” he whispered.

CHAPTER TWO - “Hell hath no fury like the woman scorned, Or the woman mourning.”

CHAPTER TWO

“Hell hath no fury like the woman scorned, Or the woman mourning.”

JEHANA of Gwynedd studied her reflection critically in the mirror as a maid coiled the long auburn braid at the back of her head and secured it with a pair of filigreed pins.

Brion would not have liked the hairstyle. Its stark simplicity was too harsh, too severe for her delicate features. It emphasized the high cheekbones, the slightly squared jaw-line, made the smoky green eyes seem the only living features in the pale face.

Nor was black a good color for her. The flowing silk and velvet of the mourning dress, unrelieved by jewel or lace or a bit of bright embroidery, only heightened the monochrome effect of black and white, played up the pallor, made her look far older than her thirty-two years.

No, Brion would not have approved at all.

Not that he ever would have said anything, she mused, as the maid covered the shining tresses with a delicate lace veil. Not Brion. No, he would simply have reached to her hair and removed the confining pins, let the long braid cascade loosely down her back, placed his gentle fingertips beneath her chin, and tipped her mouth up to meet his. . . .