Warin swallowed hard, but Nigel only nodded his head slowly and raised an eyebrow.

“You speak as though my nephew’s acceptance is an accomplished fact,” he said.

“I believe that this can be his only decision,” Arilan said quietly. “If he does not accept the challenge by nightfall, two hundred hostages will be drawn and quartered on the plain before our army. Any further delay, and two hundred more will be impaled and left to die at the rising of the moon. Tonight that occurs about four hours after sunset. This appears inescapable if Kelson refuses the challenge.”

He scanned the chamber slowly, but no one made a move to speak. “If, on the other hand, Kelson accepts, the battle will be to the death, the survivor or survivors to take all. Wencit obviously believes he will win, or he would not have proposed this sort of contest.”

Warin had paled at the mention of drawing and quartering, but Nigel, better accustomed to the horrors of war, only repeated his knowing nod. After a few seconds’ pause, he raised his hand slightly to speak.

“This Duel Arcane—would it be similar to the challenge issued to Kelson at his coronation?”

“Well, it would be governed by the same ancient laws of challenge,” Arilan said with a nod, “except, of course, that it would be four against four instead of the single combat fought by Kelson and Charissa. There are fairly rigid rules governing the arbitration of a Duel Arcane, and Wencit has—ah—apparently received official sanction to hold the duel according to the ancient laws.”

“Official sanction from whom?” Kelson interrupted eagerly. “This Camberian Council he mentioned? Why do you evade the issue when I…”

His voice trailed off as he saw Arilan had stiffened at the mention of the name, and he glanced at Morgan in surprise. Morgan was gazing at the bishop with rapt attention, apparently no more informed than Kelson, yet suddenly keenly interested in what the bishop would say. Duncan, too, had started at the sound of the name and now watched Arilan intently. Abruptly, Kelson wondered what he had stumbled onto.

“Arilan,” he whispered softly, “what is the Camberian Council? Is it…Deryni?”

Arilan glanced at his feet, then raised his head to stare past Kelson as though in a daze. “Forgive me, my prince. It is difficult to break a lifetime of conditioning, but Wencit has left me no alternative. It was he who first mentioned the Council. It is only fair, since you must meet him in battle, that I tell you what I can.” He glanced down at his hands, which were clasped tightly together, and forced himself to relax.

“There exists a secret organization of full Deryni called the Camberian Council. Its origins lie in the times immediately after the Haldane Restoration, when those of high Deryni blood were called to somehow regulate and protect those who remained after the great persecutions. Only past and present members know the composition of the Council, and they are sworn by an oath of blood and power never to divulge the identity of their fellows.