But in the first, confused seconds of their arrival, it was as though the preceding minutes had been but a dream. Only the sleeping forms of Nigel, Cardiel, and Warin, the rolled-back carpeting and knife-cut turf were immediate reminders that it had all been very real.

Kelson turned slowly to stare at Arilan. “It—it did happen, didn’t it?”

“It certainly did.” Arilan smiled. “And miracles do still occur, it seems. Kelson, if you will draft your acceptance of the challenge, we shall send it off to Wencit right away.” He sighed as he kicked aside the candle stumps and slumped into a chair beside the patch of turf. “The Portal can be covered now, too. It still can be used, if necessary, but there is no further need for direct contact with the ground.”

Kelson nodded and moved to a portable writing stand, taking out quill and parchment. “What tone do you wish me to set, Bishop? Confident? Belligerent?”

Arilan shook his head, “No, slightly apprehensive but resigned, I think—as though you have been forced into this against your better judgment. We do not want him to know we have contacted the real Council or seen through his little scheme.” A diabolical gleam suddenly lit in the bishop’s blue-violet eyes. “In fact, sound abject, frightened but trying to put a brave face on it. When the real Council shows up in the morning to arbitrate the Duel Arcane, we shall see how Wencit likes that!”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“Thus saith the Lord, Behold, I will bring evil upon this place, and upon the inhabitants thereof.”

II KINGS 22:16

THERE were many stars as Arilan stared up at the night sky from the shelter of Kelson’s pavilion doorway later that night. Around him could be heard the sounds of the camp settling down to sleep—a sleep that could well be their last: the sounds of horses pulling at their tethers and snorting at the night-fears, of men calling the watch and pacing their assigned areas; conversation sounds, low voices, as the men prepared to sleep. Around Arilan, a ring of torches set in the ground lit the area before Kelson’s pavilion with a hazy, orange glow, but mere fire could not compete with the stars tonight. Arilan thought he had never seen so bright a summer sky. Perhaps he never would again.

There was the sound of leather-shod feet behind him, and then Kelson was standing beside him, staring over his shoulder to gaze up at the stars also. Bareheaded, and with a simple soldier’s cloak clasped around him, the young king stood silent for a long moment. He, too, felt the spell of the summer night.

“Are Alaric and Duncan on their way?” he finally asked.

“I’ve sent for them. They should be here shortly.”

Kelson sighed and stretched his arms in front of him with fingers intertwined, glancing idly around at the circle of torches, at the guards just within range of the orange firelight.

“This will be a short night. We probably ought to be ready well before dawn, just in case Wencit tries something else underhanded. The messenger who delivered our acceptance said he didn’t look pleased at all.”