“Sire, forgive me, but it did look like—”

“I know what it looked like,” Kelson said impatiently. “No apology is necessary. You and your men were merely trying to protect me. As you can see, however”—he stepped aside to view the remains of his would-be killer—“General Morgan was merely killing a—what the devil is it, Morgan?”

Morgan retrieved his weapon and sheathed it, then moved closer to the mutilated plot of grass. The guards, too, eased in for a closer look, though they kept their distance from the man in black. They had all caught Kelson’s casual mention of the infamous Morgan, and they were not eager to test out the rumors that had been circulating about him.

“It’s a Stenrect crawler, my prince,” Morgan replied matter-of-factly, prodding the carcass with the toe of his boot. “And if my first blow had missed,” he glanced at the woman, “and the creature had bitten you, my second blow would have taken off your hand. There is no antidote for the sting of a Stenrect.”

There was an uneasy stirring among the soldiers, and several crossed themselves furtively. The Stenrect was supposedly a mythical creature of supernatural origin, spawned, it was said, of fire and acid-hatred before the world was born. Of all creatures, real or imagined, there was none deadlier. And though none there had ever seen a Stenrect before—indeed, if asked before, they would have said no such creature existed—all knew the legends. None cared to speculate how close their young lord had been to a painful and lingering death, or to mutilation through loss of a hand.

The guard captain by now had recovered from the shock of seeing a Stenrect in the flesh, and at last he realized the significance of the man who had slain it. For Morgan, too, was a creature of legend. And the captain suddenly realized he might inadvertently have insulted the powerful Deryni lord. That could be even more dangerous than a Stenrect, if the rumors were true.

Bowing nervously, he said, “My apologies, Your Grace. Had I realized my liege to be under the protection of your sword, I would not have been so quick with mine. Your reputation goes before you.” He signalled his men to disperse.

Morgan returned the bow, concealing a smile. “I’m sure it does, Captain. I quite understand your position.”

The captain cleared his throat uncomfortably and turned to Kelson. “My apologies again, Sire. Shall I escort the Lady Elvira back to her quarters?”

“Please do so, Captain, by all means,” Kelson said, glancing aside at the lady in question. “Unless, of course, the lady wishes to stay for a closer look at the Stenrect.”

The lady turned pale and backed off a few steps, shaking her head. “Oh, no, Your Highness! Please, I meant no harm. I didn’t know it was His Grace, and from across the garden, I—” She stammered to a stop.