“As you may be aware, very few Deryni have had the opportunity to fully develop their powers in recent times,” he went on. “Many of our talents were lost in the persecutions—or at least our knowledge of how to use those powers was lost. Morgan’s gift of healing may be a rediscovery of one of those lost talents.

“But there are some of us who are loosely organized and in regular communication with one another. The Council acts as a regulating body for those known Deryni, keeping the old laws and arbitrating in disputes of magic such as may arise from time to time. A Duel Arcane such as Wencit proposes would fall under the Council’s jurisdiction.”

“The Council determines the validity of duels?” Morgan asked suspiciously.

Arilan turned to look at Morgan rather strangely. “Yes. Why do you ask?”

“How about those not of full Deryni blood, like myself and Duncan?” Morgan persisted. “Are they also under the jurisdiction of the Council?”

Arilan’s face blanched slightly. “Why do you ask?” he repeated in a strained voice.

Morgan glanced at Duncan and Duncan nodded.

“Tell him.”

“Bishop Arilan, I think that Duncan and I may have had contact with one of your Camberian Council. In fact, I think it may have happened several times. At least the implication of our last encounter was similar to what you have just outlined.”

“What happened?” Arilan whispered. His face was expressionless above his purple cassock.

“Well, we had a—a visitation is the best way to describe it, I suppose, when we were on our way to you at Dhassa. When we stopped at Saint Neot’s to rest our horses, he appeared.”

“He?”

Morgan nodded carefully. “We still don’t know who he was. But each of us had seen him before in separate situations, which I haven’t the time to enumerate just now. He looks like—well, let us simply say that he bears a striking resemblance to the portraits and written descriptions of Camber of Culdi.”

“Saint Camber?” Arilan murmured, unable to believe what he was hearing.

Duncan shifted in his chair uneasily. “Please don’t misunderstand, Excellency. We are not claiming that he was Saint Camber. He never said he was. In fact, this last time when Alaric and I finally saw him at the same time, he said that he wasn’t Saint Camber—‘only one of his faithful servants,’ I believe he put it. From what you have just told us of the Camberian Council, perhaps it was one of them.”

“That is impossible,” Arilan murmured, shaking his head in disbelief. “What did he say to you?”

Morgan raised an eyebrow. “Well, he implied that we had Deryni enemies that we didn’t know about. He said that ‘those whose business it was to know such things’ believed that Duncan and I might have more powers than we think, and that we might be challenged to a Duel Arcane to discover our strength. He seemed concerned that this not happen, though.”

Arilan’s face had gone white, and he had to reach out to the center pole to support himself. “It’s impossible,” he whispered, not listening anymore. “And yet, it almost has to be one of the Council.” He groped his way to an empty stool and sat heavily.