“Now, listen, and listen carefully, because I probably won’t have time to repeat this. The place where we are now is the beginning of a series of secret passages that honeycomb the walls of this castle. The branch we’re going to take leads to my personal living quarters, where I’d be willing to wager that either Warin or the archbishops have taken up residence. Now, stay silent until I say otherwise. Agreed?”

There was no dissent. Silent as the grave, the four began moving once more, coming at length to a portion of the passage that was heavily carpeted and hung with thick draperies along the walls. Morgan handed the torch to Duncan and moved to the left-hand wall, where he drew aside a fold of the drape and peered through a peephole. Carefully he scanned the room beyond, taking in all the familiar accoutrements of the chamber that had been his own until a few short months ago, then drew back with a look of grim determination. As he had suspected, Warin de Grey now occupied the chamber and seemed to be in conference with some of his men.

With a curt gesture, Morgan pointed out several other peepholes, then motioned for Duncan to douse the light. They would try to learn what the rebel leader was saying to his men before barging in unannounced.

“Well, we don’t really know what he can do, now do we?” one of the men with Warin was saying plaintively. “I know we have a holy mission, and I’m prepared to die for our cause, if need be, but what if the duke conjures magic against us? We dinnae have any defense against that, save our faith.”

“Is that not enough?” Warin replied, sitting back in the chair beside the fireplace and lacing his fingers together.

“Well, yes, but—”

“Trust the right of our mission, Marcus,” a second man said. “Did God not protect us when Lord Warin had the Deryni cornered at Saint Torin’s? His magic was of no avail that day.”

Warin shook his head and stared into the flames. “A poor analogy, Paul. Morgan was drugged when we captured him at Saint Torin’s. I even believe he told the truth that day—that he could not have used his magic while he was under the influence of the mind-twisting Deryni drug. Otherwise, his cousin would not have revealed himself. Duncan McLain had kept his secret far too long to reveal himself for any other than dire reasons.”

“Then, we dinnae know what the duke might do,” Marcus interjected. “Mayhap he could bring this whole castle tumbling down around us, if he chose. He could—”

“No, he is a rational man, for all that he is Deryni. He would not destroy his own house unless there were no other way. He—”

There was a staccato knock at the door, followed by a repeat of the knock before anyone could react. Warin broke off what he had been about to say and glanced at his two lieutenants.