“They are still half-breeds!” Vivienne snapped. “How could you expect that to change? We cannot alter our ways to suit your convenience.”

“Lord, give me patience!” Arilan struck the table with the flat of his hand and lurched to his feet. “Are we so blind, so fettered by rules, that we must perish because of them?”

He slipped from his place at the table and strode vigorously toward the golden doors, pausing in the archway as the doors swung back from him.

“I shall return momentarily, my lords. Since I am challenged, I claim your duty for myself and I claim it for my new allies—my Deryni allies. I think it’s high time you met them!”

With that he turned on his heel and stalked from the chamber, leaving a stunned Council in his wake. Seconds later he was striding back through the giant double doors, three others following closely behind him. Gasps accompanied Arilan’s arrival, along with murmured words of indignation. Laran started to come to his feet in protest, but then thought better of it as Arilan’s gaze touched his and scanned the rest of the Council. Arilan stopped behind his chair and waited until Kelson, Morgan, and Duncan had ranged themselves uneasily behind him. Only then did he address the Council.

“My lords and ladies, I hope you will indulge my seeming unorthodoxy in bringing these men here, but you have forced me to it. If I am to be drawn into public combat, forever jeopardizing the standing I once enjoyed in the human community, I must claim the ancient protections. The same holds true for my colleagues here, since a chain is only as strong as its weakest link. All of us must be equally assured of the benefits of your protection.” He glanced behind him.

“My lords and ladies, I have the honor to present Kelson Cinhil Rhys Anthony Haldane, King of Gwynedd—your sovereign lord. Also the Duke of Corwyn, Sir Alaric Anthony Morgan, King’s Champion. And lastly, Monsignor Duncan Howard McLain, His Majesty’s Confessor and now, it appears, through the hideous treachery of Wencit of Torenth, Duke of Cassan and Earl of Kierney. His father, Duke Jared, was executed by Wencit today.”

“What?” someone murmured.

“Each of these gentlemen is at least half-Deryni by our standards,” Arilan went on, “to be counted full, since your declaration at our recent meeting.” He turned to glance at the three. “Sire, my lords, I have the somewhat dubious honor to present the lords and ladies of the Camberian Council. Whether they continue to live up to its glorious heritage remains to be seen.”

The three newcomers made cautious bows, and then Morgan inclined his head toward the bishop.

“Excellency, may I have leave to ask a few questions?”

“Surely—”

“We will ask the questions, sir,” Vivienne interrupted imperiously. “Who gavest thee leave to approach this Council?”

“Why, my Lord Arilan did, my lady. Am I to understand that this Council speaks for all Deryni?”

“It is the bastion of the old ways,” Vivienne replied coolly. “Dost thou, a half-breed, dispute our ancient customs?”