kutzkattherine.the bishopsheir-第1部分

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And　he　put　on　the　garments　of　vengeance　for　clothing；　
and　was　clad　with　zeal　for　a　cloak。
　　Isaiah　59：17

Edmund　Loris；　once　the　Archbishop　of　Valoret　and　Primate　of　All　Gwynedd；　stared　out　to　sea　through　the　salt…smeared　windowpanes　of　his　tower　prison　and　allowed　himself　a　thin　smile。　The　rare　display　of　self…indulgence　did　nothing　to　diminish　the　fury　of　the　wind　shrilling　at　the　ill…fitted　glass；　but　the　letter　secreted　in　the　breviary　under　his　arm　gave　its　own　grim　fort。　The　offer　was　princely；　befitting　even　the　exalted　status　he　had　enjoyed　before　his　fall。
Exhaling　softly　of　his　long…hoarded　bitterness；　Loris　bowed　his　head　and　shifted　the　book　to　hold　it　in　both　hands；　wary　lest　the　gesture　seem　to　make　it　too　precious　in　the　eyes　of　his　jailers；　who　could　look　in　on　him　at　any　time。　For　two　years　now　they　had　kept　him　here　against　his　will。　For　two　years　his　existence　had　been　defined　by　the　walls　of　this　monastic　cell　and　the　token　participation　permitted　him　in　the　life　of　the　rest　of　the　abbey：　daily　attendance　at　Mass　and　Vespers；　always　in　the　pany　of　two　silent　and　all…too…attentive　monks；　and　access　to　a　confessor　once　each　month　…　seldom　the　same　man　twice；　and　never　the　same　one　any　two　months　in　succession。　Were　it　not　for　one　of　the　lay　brothers　who　brought　his　meals；　whose　fondness　for　intrigue　Loris　had　early　discovered；　he　would　have　had　no　contact　whatsoever　with　the　outside　world。
The　outside　world　…　how　he　longed　for　it　again！　The　two　years　spent　in　Saint　Iveagh's　were　but　an　extension　of　the　outrage　which　had　begun　a　full　year　before　that；　with　the　death　of　King　Brion。　On　just　such　a　chill　November　day　as　this　had　Brion　Haldane　met　his　doom　…　blasted　from　life　by　the　hell…spawned　magic　of　a　Deryni　sorceress；　but　leaving　an　unexpected　legacy　of　forbidden　powers　to　his　son　and　heir；　the　fourteen…year…old　Kelson。
Nor　had　young　Kelson　hesitated　to　seize　his　unholy　patrimony　and　use　it　to　overturn　almost　everything　Loris　held　sacred；　not　the　least　of　which　was　the　Church's　stand　against　the　use　of　magic　in　whatever　form。　And　all　of　this　had　been　done　under　the　guise　of　his　〃Divine　right〃　to　rule　and　his　sacred　duty　to　protect　his　people　…　though　how　a　king　could　justify　consorting　with　the　powers　of　evil　to　effect　that　protection　was　beyond　Loris'　prehension。　By　the　end　of　the　following　summer；　with　the　help　of　the　Deryni　heretics　Morgan　and　McLain；　Kelson　had　even　managed　to　turn　most　of　Loris'　fellow　bishops　against　him。　Only　the　ailing　Corrigan　had　remained　true　…　　and　his　faithful　heart　had　given　out　before　he　could　be　subjected　to　the　humiliation　Loris　finally　endured。　The　rebel　bishops　actually　believed　they　had　done　a　great　kindness　by　allowing　Loris　to　attend　the　travesty　of　a　trial　at　which　they　stripped　away　his　offices　and　banished　him　to　a　life　of　forced　contemplation。
Bitter　still；　but　heartened　by　the　prospect　of　a　chance　to　set　things　right；　the　former　archbishop　tapped　the　edge　of　his　book　lightly　against　his　lips　and　thought　about　its　secret　contents　　…　　yet　another　munication　from　folk　with　similar　cause　to　feel　uneasy　at　what　the　new　king　had　wrought。　The　wind　whining　in　the　roof　slates　of　Saint　Iveagh's　sea…girt　towers　sang　of　the　freedom　of　the　open　seas　whence　it　came；　bearing　the　tang　of　salt　air　and　the　cries　of　the　wheeling　gulls　that　circled　the　abbey　during　all　but　the　darkest　hours　of　night；　and　for　the　first　time　since　his　imprisonment；　Loris　allowed　himself　to　hope　that　he；　too；　might　soon　be　free。　For　many；　many　months；　he　had　feared　never　to　taste　freedom　again　except　in　death。
Oh；　he　was　not　fool　enough　to　think　there　would　not　be　a　price　…　but　he　could　afford　to　promise　anything；　for　now。　With　care　and　craft；　he　might　play　more　than　one　side　to　his　advantage；　perhaps　eventually　being　even　more　powerful　than　before　his　fall。　Then　he　would　make　himself　the　instrument　of　God's　retribution；　driving　the　cursed　Deryni　from　the　land　once　and　for　all。
And　the　Deryni　taint　was　in　the　very　blood　of　the　king　…　perhaps　in　all　the　Haldane　line；　not　in　Kelson　alone。　In　the　very　beginning；　Loris　had　thought　Kelson's　forbidden　magic　strictly　the　legacy　of　his　Deryni　mother　…　　that　poor；　conscience…hounded　lady　who　even　now　kept　strict　seclusion　in　another　remote　abbey；　praying　for　the　soul　of　her　Deryni　son　as　well　as　her　own　and　devoting　her　life　to　penance　for　the　evil　she　carried。　She　had　confessed　her　guilt　before　them　all；　that　solemn　day　of　Kelson's　coronation；　prepared　to　sacrifice　life　and　even　soul　to　protect　him　from　the　sorceress　who　had　already　been　responsible　for　his　father's　death。
But　Queen　Jehana；　though　she　had　the　will；　had　not　the　power　to　fight　Kelson's　battle　for　him；　and　in　the　end；　the　young　king　had　had　to　face　the　challenge　with　his　own　resources　…　prodigious　resources；　as　it　happened；　easily　equal　to　the　challenge；　but　frightening　in　their　implications。　While　granting　that　his　mother's　Deryni　blood　might　have　made　its　contribution。　Kelson　had　publicly　claimed　sacred　right　as　the　source　of　his　newfound　abilities。　Loris　had　feared　otherwise；　even　at　the　time；　for　he　remembered　stories　about　the　boy's　father。
In　fact；　the　more　Loris　thought　on　it　…　and　he　had　had　ample　time　for　that　in　the　last　two　years　…　the　more　convinced　he　became　that　Brion　and　hitherto　unsuspected　Deryni　ancestors　were　as　much　to　blame　for　Kelson's　condition　as　Jehana。　The　full　extent　of　the　taint　could　only　be　guessed。　Certainly　both　Brion　and　his　father　before　him　had　harbored　Deryni　at　court　from　time　to　time。　The　detested　Morgan　and　McLain　were　but　the　most　recent　and　blatant　of　many　such　…　and　the　latter　a　priest　all　the　while；　hypocrite　to　the　core　　…　　on　both　of　whom　Loris　wished　only　the　vilest　of　fates；　for　the　two　were　largely　responsible　for　his　present　situation。
As　for　Brion；　who　could　deny　that　the　late　king　once　had　faced　and　killed　a　Deryni　sorcerer　in　single　bat？　Loris；　then　but　a　parish　priest　of　rising　prominence；　had　heard　of　the　incident　only　at　second　and　third　hand；　but　even　in　the　first　throes　of　public　jubilation　at　the　king's　victory；　he　had　been　chilled　by　the　recurring　suggestion　that　Brion's　opponent；　father　to　the　woman　eventually　responsible　for　his　death；　had　fallen　not　alone　to　Brion's　sword　but　to　strange　powers　wielded　by　the　king　himself。　In　the　taverns　for　months　afterward；　haunted　eyewitnesses　with　tongues　loosened　by　ale　whispered　fearfully　of　magic　worked　upon　the　king　by　young　Morgan　before　that　fateful　confrontation　…　the　unleashing　of　awesome　forces　which　Brion　said　were　benign；　the　royal　legacy　of　his　father　…　but　even　that　admission　cast　grave　suspicions　on　the　king；　so　far　as　Loris　was　concerned。　Though　a　man　of　honest　if　rigid　religious　conviction；　he　was　not　naive　enough　to　concede　that　purity　of　intent　and　fervence　of　faith　…　or　Divine　favor　to　an　anointed　king　…　had　been　Brion's　salvation；　though　he　kept　his　misgivings　to　himself　so　long　as　Brion　lived。
Now　Loris　knew　that　only　power　such　as　the　Enemy　himself　wielded　could　have　given　Brion　victory　against　such　odds；　and　over　such　a　foe。　And　if　that　power　had　been　granted；　or　even　merely　released；　by　one　of　the　accursed　Deryni；　then　its　source　was　clear：　an　evil　legacy　from　years　of　dark　alliance　with　that　unholy　race。　The　double　inheritance　of　evil　from　Brion　and　Jehana　was　doubly　damning　in　their　son。　Kelson　was　beyond　redemption；　and　must　be　eliminated。
Nor；　by　the　same　logic；　were　Brion's　brother　Nigel　and　his　brood　to　be　spared　…　for　though　uncontaminated　by　Jehana's　blood；　still　they；　like　Kelson；　traced　their　ancestry　back　through　the　generations　of　Haldane　kings　who　had　carried　forward　some　other　variant　of　Deryni　curse　from　the　time　of　the　Restoration。　The　land　must　be　freed　of　this　evil；　cleansed　of　the　dark　Deryni　taint。　A　new　royal　line　must　be　raised　to　rule　in　Gwynedd　…　and　what　better　source；　and　who　with　better　legal　claim；　than　the　old　royal　line　of　Meara；　human　to　the　core；　one　of　whose　supporters　even　now　offered　assistance　to　Gwynedd's　rightful　Primate；　if　that　Primate　would　support　Mearan　independence？
With　a　shiver；　Loris　slipped　his　breviary　into　the　breast　of　his　homespun　woolen　robe　and　drew　his　meager　cloak　around　his　shoulders　…　he；　who　had　worn　fine　linen　and　silk　and　furs　before　being　deprived　of　his　office！　Two　years　of　the　sparse；　simple　fare　of　the　Fratri　Silentii　had　pared　a　handspan　from　an　already　trim　waist　and　honed　the　hawk…like　features　to　even　sharper　definition；　but　the　hunger　which　gnawed　at　Loris　now　had　nothing　to　do　with　physical　appetites。　As　he　laid　one　hand　flat　against　the　window　glass；　his　eye　was　caught　by　the　amethyst　on　his　finger　…　sole　reminder　left　him　of　his　former　rank　…　and　he　savored　the　words　of　the　letter　next　to　his　heart。
Meara　will　bow　no　more　to　a　Deryni　king；　the　missive　had　said；　echoing　his　own　determination。　If　this　plan　meets　with　your　approval；　ask　shriving　of　a　monk　named　Jeroboam　who　shall　e　within　the　week　to　preach；　and　be　guided　by　his　advice。　Until　Laas。。。。
Laas。　The　very　name　conjured　images　of　ancient　glories。　It　had　been　the　capital　of　an　independent　Meara　a　hundred　years　before　the　first　Haldanes　came　to　Gwynedd。　From　Laas；　sovereign　Mearan　princes　had　ruled　as　proudly　as　any　Haldane；　and