kutzkattherine.the bishopsheir-第29部分

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hey　had　given　him；　his　head　throbbed　and　his　broken　ribs　burned　with　every　breath　and　jolt。　Sometimes；　the　very　effort　of　trying　to　focus　on　the　world　around　him　made　him　pass　out。
Unconsciousness　was　something　of　a　blessing　initially；　for　there　was　no　part　of　his　anatomy　which　did　not　hurt。　He　could　not　fall　off　his　horse；　for　his　feet　were　bound　to　his　stirrups　and　lashed　beneath　the　animal's　belly；　but　whenever　he　fainted；　which　was　all　too　often；　his　already　battered　body　sagged　limply　against　the　ropes　and　strained　tortured　muscles　anew。
But　his　head　was　the　worst。　As　often　as　not；　when　they　roused　him　from　one　of　their　infrequent　rest　stops　and　made　him　stand；　he　passed　out　again。　No　matter　how　he　reckoned　that；　it　meant　a　serious　concussion　…　for　which　the　only　cure　was　rest。　And　so　long　as　his　captors　continued　to　press　onward　toward　their　unknown　destination；　he　knew　he　would　simply　have　to　endure。
In　such　manner　did　the　days　pass　…　four　since　his　capture；　so　far　as　he　could　calculate。　He　had　learned　the　identity　of　the　men　his　captors　escorted；　but　that　was　hardly　more　reassuring　than　his　condition。　That　the　notorious　Archbishop　Loris　had　somehow　managed　to　escape　his　sea…girt　prison　was　chilling。　He　wondered　whether　Kelson　knew。　He　suspected　Loris'　escape　somehow　had　to　do　with　the　Mearan　question　Kelson　had　been　worrying　about；　but　he　could　not　seem　to　put　it　all　together。　His　head　started　aching　anew　everytime　he　tried　to　think　about　it。
He　worried　about　his　head　and　about　Loris　as　they　rode　through　the　snow　on　that　fourth　day。　The　first　snow…storm　of　the　season　had　swept　down　upon　them　with　the　morning's　first　light；　and　he　shivered　with　the　cold　of　it；　despite　the　extra　mantle　they　had　wrapped　around　him。　Exhausted　and　bordering　on　delirium；　wrists　chafed　raw　from　days　of　riding　with　his　hands　tied　in　front　of　him；　he　laced　his　fingers　in　his　horse's　mane　and　concentrated　on　staying　conscious　as　they　seemed　to　float　in　a　sphere　of　silence　through　the　still…falling　snow。　When　their　pace　eventually　slowed　and　he　weakly　raised　his　head　far　enough　to　see　why；　they　were　approaching　the　ghostly　blackness　of　city　gates。
He　thought　it　was　Culdi　at　first；　for　the　guards　who　admitted　them　wore　the　Bishop　of　Culdi's　livery。　But　even　as　he　thought　it；　he　realized　it　could　not　be　Culdi。　Culdi　was　loyal　to　Kelson；　Loris　would　never　go　there。　They　had　ridden　west　and　south。　He　decided　it　might　be　Ratharkin。
They　rode　for　what　seemed　like　hours　through　the　silent　streets；　pulling　up　at　last　in　a　darkened　courtyard　where　he　was　unceremoniously　hauled　from　his　horse　and　half…dragged；　half…carried　inside　a　formidable…looking　stone　building。　Being　supported　under　his　arms　put　excruciating　pressure　on　his　cracked　ribs；　but　worse　by　far　was　the　jolting　of　his　head。　He　passed　out　as　they　manhandled　him　down　a　narrow；　ill…lit　stair。
The　next　thing　he　knew　was　the　warmth　of　a　fire　not　far　away　and　the　play　of　firelight　on　his　closed　eyelids。　He　lay　curled　on　his　left　side　with　his　bound　hands　partially　shielding　his　face。　There　was　fur　underneath　him；　besides　the　fur　lining　of　his　cloak。　Voices　buzzed　low　in　the　background；　occasionally　discemable　as　words　and　phrases；　punctuated　by　the　muted　clank　of　men　disarming　and　the　snap　of　mantles　being　shaken　out。　He　caught　the　scent　of　mulled　wine　behind　him；　but　the　sound　of　others　arriving　warned　him　to　feign　continued　unconsciousness。　Cautiously　he　eased　his　eyes　open　to　the　merest　slits　to　see　two　men　in　clerical　attire　entering　the　room。　The　elder　he　recognized　as　Creoda；　Bishop　of　Culdi。
〃Your　Excellency；〃　Creoda　murmured；　bowing　to　kiss　Loris'　ring。　〃Wele　to　Ratharkin。　May　I　present　Father　Judhael　of　Meara；　whose　family　is　responsible　for　arranging　your　escape。〃
As　Creoda　stepped　aside；　a　younger　man　with　silver　hair　came　forward　to　bend　in　homage　before　the　renegade　archbishop；　remaining　on　one　knee　when　he　looked　up　and　Loris　did　not　release　his　hand。
〃So；　Father；〃　Loris　said；　〃I　see　I　must　thank　you　for　my　freedom。〃
〃In　truth；　it　is　not　I；　personally；　who　am　responsible；　Excellency；〃　Judhael　replied；　gazing　up　at　him　raptly。　〃My　Lord　Creoda　felt　it　wisest　if　I　knew　none　of　the　details　of　my　family's　involvement。　Apparently　that　was　a　wise　precaution。　When　General　Morgan　questioned　me　about　the　attempt　on　Duncan　McLain's　life　last　week；　I　was　honestly　able　to　say　that　I　knew　nothing。　Tis　said　the　Deryni　can　make　a　man　speak　the　truth　whether　he　will　nor　no。〃
〃The　Deryni。　Aye。〃　Loris'　eyes　took　on　a　dangerous；　preoccupied　glint。　〃They　also　say　the　traitor　archbishops　plan　to　make　McLain　a　bishop　at　Eastertide。　A　Deryni　bishop！　Blasphemy！　Blasphemy！〃
〃Yes；　Excellency；〃　Judhael　murmured　meekly。
His　tone　seemed　to　remind　Loris　where　he　was；　and　the　archbishop's　expression　softened　as　he　looked　down　at　Judhael　again　and　smiled；　raising　him　to　his　feet。
〃But　more　of　the　Deryni　and　their　accursed　race　later。　'Tis　also　said　that　your　bishopric　has　been　given　to　another；　my　son。　Do　you　intend　to　stand　for　that？〃
Judhael　looked　a　little　taken　aback。　〃I　am　not　certain　I　have　any　say　in　the　matter。　Excellency。　I　am　eager　to　serve；　of　course；　but　Henry　Istelyn　now　holds　the　See　of　Meara　directly　from　Archbishop　Bradene　and　the　king。　What　of　him？〃
〃What　of　him？〃　Loris　replied。　〃I　am　Primate　of　Gwynedd　…　not　Bradene。　Are　you　willing　to　accept　a　slightly　less　pretentious　title　than　Bishop　of　Meara；　to　unsettle　these　dissident　bishops　who　have　usurped　my　position　and　yours？〃
Creoda's　brow　furrowed　in　question。　〃What　title　did　you　have　in　mind。　Excellency？〃
〃Bishop　of　Ratharkin；〃　Loris　said。　〃Because　the　Meara　you　know　today　is　not　the　Meara　which　will　exist　when　we　are　finished。　We　will　take　back　the　ancient　Mearan　lands　when　I　confound　the　heretic　Duncan　McLain　…　who　shall　never　enter　into　his　lands　as　prince　and　prelate　while　I　breathe　…　and　you；　Creoda；　shall　be　Patriarch　of　the　new　Mearan　state；〃　he　finished　pointedly。　〃Does　that　please　you？〃
Creoda　flushed　with　pleasure。　〃A　promotion　for　all　of　us；　my　lord。　Of　course　I　am　pleased。　And　allegiance　to　the　rightful　queen　upon　the　throne　of　Meara？〃
〃Perhaps　to　a　queen　of　far　more　than　only　Meara；〃　Loris　said　softly。　〃It　is　not　only　in　the　episcopate　that　the　Deryni　taint　has　cast　its　pall。〃
Creoda　blanched。　〃The　king？〃
〃He　is　Deryni；　is　he　not？〃
Dhugal；　following　their　conversation　with　growing　horror；　nearly　gasped　aloud　at　the　implications。　It　took　all　his　strength　simply　to　close　his　eyes　and　force　his　body　not　to　tense　in　outrage。　The　three　clerics　continued　to　discuss　minor　details　of　the　flight　to　Ratharkin　for　several　minutes；　while　Dhugal　lay　there　numbly　and　tried　to　think　what　he　could　do　to　stop　them。　The　clink　of　goblets　jarred　through　the　buzz　of　their　further　discussion；　almost　directly　behind　him；　and　suddenly　he　knew　that　their　eyes　were　on　him。
〃Who　is　that？〃　Judhael　asked。
〃A　hostage；〃　Loris　said　casually。　〃My　Lord　of　Trurill　tells　me　he's　the　Master　of　Transha；　Clan　MacArdry's　heir。　You'll　want　his　support　when　Transha　is　reintegrated　with　Meara。〃
Dhugal　felt　hands　rolling　him　face　upward；　and　the　pressure　on　his　ribs　made　him　moan　and　actually　black　out　for　just　a　few　seconds。
〃　…　want　him　to　witness　Judhael's　consecration；　then；〃　Creoda　was　saying；　as　consciousness　returned。　〃Is　he　badly　injured？〃
〃Brice？〃　Loris　called。
The　Baron　of　Trurill　came　away　from　unbuckling　his　armor　and　knelt　to　peel　back　one　of　Dhugal's　eyelids。
〃He's　no　worse　than　he　was；　Excellency；〃　the　traitor　baron　said；　pressing　his　fingertips　to　the　pulsepoint　in　Dhugal's　throat。　〃He　has　some　cracked　ribs　that　nothing　could　be　done　about　while　we　rode；　and　probably　a　concussion；　but　you're　mainly　seeing　exhaustion。　He's　a　strong　lad；　he'll　mend。〃
〃Well；　if　he's　that　strong　a　lad；　we'd　better　put　him　in　a　secure　place；　hadn't　we？〃　Creoda　said。　〃Gendon；　take　him　to　one　of　the　chambers　below　and　have　someone　tend　to　him　in　the　morning。　I　don't　think　he'll　be　causing　anybody　any　trouble　before　then。　After　that；　you　can　see　to　your　men。　Excellency；　if　you　and　Father　Gorony　will　follow　me；　please；　I'll　show　you　to　quarters　where　you'll　be　secure　from　prying　eyes　until　we're　ready　to　confront　Bishop　Istelyn　in　the