“Drink this,” Duncan ordered.

Morgan nodded meekly and allowed himself to be given several swallows of the wine, steadying Duncan’s grip on the hanaper with both hands, then passed one hand before his eyes as though to clear away a troublesome memory. As he did, his other hand contracted almost infinitesimally on Duncan’s, reassuring him that the danger was past. Morgan was once more in control.

Morgan took another swallow of the wine, swirling it around his tongue and judging it too sweet, then pushed the hanaper aside and sat up. The bishops hovered over him with a mixture of concern, indignation, and suspicion, and several of the barons crowded closer to the altar rail to hear what Morgan would say by way of explanation.

“You must pardon me, my lords. A silly thing to do,” he murmured, allowing the real fatigue that remained to tinge his speech with hesitation. “I fear I am not accustomed to fasting…”

He let his voice trail off dazedly, permitting himself to swallow with effort, eyes downcast, and the bishops nodded. The effects of fasting were something they could understand. Under the strain of the past three days, it was not altogether inappropriate that the Duke of Corwyn should faint away at Mass. Cardiel touched Morgan’s shoulder lightly in acquiescence, then stood to reassure the waiting barons and warlords as Morgan and Duncan resumed their places at the prie-dieu.

Arilan stayed looking down at them for long seconds as they knelt again, returning to his place only when Cardiel mounted the altar steps once more. The objects of his scrutiny noted this hesitation and exchanged wary glances as the Mass got underway once more.

From that point, however, the Mass continued to its conclusion without further incident. The two penitents received communion and a blessing, final prayers were said, and at length populace and prelates filed from the cathedral, with Cardiel, Arilan, and the two Deryni ending up in the sacristy with the rest of the bishops. Arilan removed his miter and retired to the tiny vesting chapel off the sacristy while the rest of the prelates finished their business in the room and finally were gone. Only then did he rejoin them, still vested, to move slowly to the door and bolt it.

“Is there something you wish to tell me, Duke of Corwyn?” he asked softly, not turning toward them from his place before the bolted door.

Morgan glanced at Duncan, then at Cardiel, who was standing quietly to one side and looking very uncomfortable.

“I am not certain that I understand your implication, my lord,” Morgan replied carefully.

“Is it usual for the Duke of Corwyn to faint at Mass?” Arilan asked, turning to face Morgan with cold, blue-violet eyes.

“I—as I have said, my lord, I am unaccustomed to fasting. It is little done in my household. And the late hours we have kept these three days, the little sleep, the lack of food—”

“—do not constitute an acceptable excuse!” the bishop snapped, crossing to look Morgan in the eyes. “You gave your word. You lied to us. You used your Deryni powers in the very cathedral, even though we forbade it both of you! I trust that you can produce a justification that seemed valid at the time!”