He gazed into Kelson’s unblinking eyes for several seconds, and finally Kelson gave a slow nod.

“Can you do it here with reasonable safety?” he asked, inquiring as much after Morgan’s safety as that of the boy.

Morgan lowered his eyes. “You must have your information, my prince. And your barons will have to see me in action sooner or later. I think we have little choice.”

“Then do it,” Kelson breathed, straightening on his knees and glancing around him at his watching lords. “Gentlemen, I beseech you to stand away and give His Grace space to work. The boy’s message must be heard, and only my Lord Alaric’s gifts can make that possible without endangering an innocent life. There is no danger to any of you.”

There was a murmur of consternation among nobles and clergy as Kelson spoke, and several made furtive movements toward the doors until Kelson’s sharp gaze swept the room and held each man in his place. Those closest to the tableau moved away a little, as the king had asked, until only Duncan and Kelson himself were still kneeling beside Morgan and the unconscious page. As Morgan shifted to a sitting position, supporting the boy in his lap, the murmuring ceased and the room grew hushed. For all but a few, this would be the first time they had ever seen a Deryni use his powers.

Morgan looked up at them and studied the fearful, sometimes hostile faces. Never had he looked so human, so vulnerable, as he sat in the middle of the floor with the child cradled in his arms. Never had the gray eyes been so guileless in the presence of potential enemies.

But there must be confidence. Now was not the time for old enmities, for fears to crowd beside the trust that must be engendered. Here must be a time of openness, of stark truth. These men must be convinced, once and for all, that the fearsome powers of the Deryni could be used for good. So much depended upon what happened here in the next minutes. There must be no mistakes.

Morgan permitted himself the tiniest of smiles as he carefully chose his words.

“My lords, I fully understand your apprehension,” he said in a low voice. “You will have heard many rumors about my powers and the powers of my people, and it is natural that you should at first fear what you do not understand.

“What you are about to see and hear will, undoubtedly, seem very strange to you,” he went on. “But so the unknown always seems until it becomes the known.” He paused. “Even I cannot predict with certainty just what will happen in the next minutes, for I have no idea what this lad has been through. I ask only that you do not interfere, no matter what happens—that you watch and listen silently. The process is not without its danger for me.”

As he looked down at the boy again, a faint sigh whispered among the watchers, quickly fading into total silence. Morgan smoothed the unconscious boy’s fair hair gently across his forehead, then positioned his left hand so that he could see the gryphon signet close by the boy’s chin. With a last glance at Duncan and Kelson, who still knelt silently across from him, he gazed at the gryphon and made a conscious effort to relax, breathing deeply to trigger the Thuryn trance as he had learned long ago.