“Aye, what does happen?” Ifor agreed. “I have even heard that he is considering it. With a royal army camped right at our gates, we are in serious trouble if he does.”

Loris looked sharply at both bishops and then harumphed. “He wouldn’t dare. Besides, not even Warin commands that much influence among his troops. He cannot change their entire outlook overnight.”

“Perhaps not,” Creoda wheezed. The old bishop’s voice was thin and reedy, and he had to pause often to cough. “Perhaps he cannot, but there is certainly something strange going on this morning. You can feel it in the air. And two of my personal escort, some of the men we brought with us, cannot be found. Many of the guard posts were occupied by unfamiliar faces.”

“Humph!” Loris said again. “I don’t suppose anyone knows for sure just what Warin’s so-called vision was all about.”

“Not precisely,” said de Lacey, toying with the amethyst on his finger. “But my chaplain told me this morning that one of the guards said Warin saw an angel in his dream.”

“An angel?”

“That is preposterous!” Loris huffed.

De Lacey shrugged. “Preposterous or not, that is what I was told. An angel with horns of light appeared to Warin in his sleep and warned him that he must reconsider what he has been doing.”

“Damn him, he goes too far!” Loris exploded. “He cannot just dream a dream and then reverse everything he has stood for. Who does he think—”

At a pounding at the chapel door, all of them fell silent. As the knock was repeated, all eyes turned to Loris. Conlan, at Loris’s signal, got to his feet and padded back to the double doorway. Hand on the bolt, he called, “Who is it?”

“Warin de Grey,” a familiar voice said. “What is the meaning of this? Why are the chapel doors closed?”

At a sign from Loris, Conlan slid aside the heavy metal bolt, then stood aside in consternation as Warin, his lieutenants, and a full dozen armed men pushed their way into the chapel, the men taking up posts along either side of the room. One of Warin’s lieutenants hustled Conlan back to the rest of the bishops as all came to their feet, and Warin followed with another man at his elbow.

“What is the meaning of this?” Loris demanded, drawing himself to his full height in an attempt to overawe.

Warin paused to bow slightly from the waist, his face set and solemn “Good morning, my lord Archbishop,” he said, arms stiffly at his sides. “I trust that you and your colleagues slept well.”

“Well enough,” Loris said coldly. “Why have you interrupted our morning devotions with armed men? Such have no place in a house of the Lord.”

“Sometimes such actions are necessary, Archbishop,” Warin replied evenly. “I have come to ask that you lift an excommunication.”

“With armed men?” Loris began indignantly.

“Hear me, my lord. I wish you to lift the excommunication you placed upon Alaric Morgan, Duncan McLain, and the king, and also the Interdict that you imposed on Corwyn.”