Ghosts of the Past

[Bynw]

Father Paulos watched as the Reeve led Father Michael towards the inn. This was not the first time he had witnessed the involvement of Windyner's elder in something going on at the inn. No, since Windyner is a stopping point on the east road to Valoret it is a common occurrence with strangers.

During his time in the village Father Paulos has sat in on a few of these investigations and judgements. Truth reading some to see how well human judgement got it correct. He had been surprised by the accuracy of Father Michael's ability in determining truth from falsehood.

And here, in this instance, Father Paulos himself turned back to his duties inside the village parish. Thinking that things were well in hand by Father Michael and the Reeve. A foreign Deryni priest would not be needed in this case.

But Father Paulos was wrong. A foreign Deryni priest would be needed soon. For what awaited Father Michael was dark magic beyond his understanding.

In an unknown corner of Father Paulos's mind, hidden from even himself, were thoughts of what was to come next. For Washburn, the son of Alaric Morgan, was the cause of the disturbance at the inn.

And he was being held in thrall by an old Torenthi spell. Little known today in the Peace of Kelson that was being challenged on the far side of Gwynedd by a rebellion. But it was not forgotten by some certain Deryni houses in the east that have kept the practice alive.

The hidden thoughts knew that Father Michael would call for his friend, the Torenthi Deryni priest when magic is discovered causing the strangers distress. And Father Paulos would come. A dutiful servant he was and just as much in thrall to the master as Washburn was.

[DerynifanK]

After the encounter with the innkeeper, Fiona returned to the room where Washburn still lay without moving. She closed the door behind her and walked over to the bed. He still lay exactly as he had since he fell into what they now believe to be a coma caused by the ruby clutched in his hand. He had not stirred despite the loud voices and altercation occurring just outside his door.

They had sought to discover the source of the coma. Darcy had tried to take the stone from Wash's hand, but it had delivered a painful shock to his hand and arm when he touched it. Fortunately Aliset had not needed to touch the gem to examine it.  She had discovered several spells on the ruby but had not been able to identify what they were or their purpose.  Any attempt to touch or move the gem resulted in pain to the person making the effort.

Fiona paced the small room restlessly. She was frightened. The innkeeper was loud and angry. He had demanded that he be admitted to Washburn's room to see for himself what was ailing the knight. He was afraid that his drunken guest could wake and cause mayhem, just as fighting men had done so often in the past and this would frighten others away. Darcy had not tried to dissuade the innkeeper from his thoughts about his inebriated  guest. For if magic, especially black magic, was suspected as the cause of the knight's condition,  people would be afraid that it could somehow affect them. She didn't know how they might react or what they might try to do to Wash and his companions. Fright could turn to anger, and they could become a mob. They had to do something but what could they do?

She whirled around as the door opened.  She relaxed as Aliset entered. Aliset moved to stand beside Wash and asked quietly, "Any change?"

Fiona replied. "No. He has not moved or stirred since this began. I am afraid that the innkeeper will get the villagers stirred up, and they may do anything. They might try to force us out of the village or even try to harm Wash. We have to do something!" Fiona was becoming more agitated.

Aliset sat on the other bed and motioned Fiona to sit beside her. Fiona sat and Aliset took her hand. "Calm yourself. I understand your concern for Washburn. We all share it. The innkeeper sent for Father Michael, and I have found the priest to be a  reasonable and reassuring  person. The villagers trust him, and I think he will be able to quiet their fears. But he will want to discover the nature of the problem, and I don't see how we could keep him from seeing what has happened. Nor can we really explain it."

"Then we have to do something to remove that cursed stone!" Fiona was up and pacing again.
Aliset answered. "You saw what happened when Darcy touched it. If we try again to move it, we don't know what will happen. It could release an even stronger shock and cause lasting harm  to the person touching it. And we can't be sure it won't cause harm to Wash."

Fiona came back to sit beside Aliset and turned pleading eyes toward her.  "I can't just sit here and do nothing. I think I may know a way to get at the stone without incurring injury. It's a spell my mother taught me when I was a girl. It can be used on articles you are wearing to protect you from injury if you are attacked. I have a pair of leather riding gloves. If I can put the spell on the gloves and wear them to grasp the stone, I might be able to get it out of his grasp without getting shocked. Then he would be free!" Fiona jumped up and went to the door. "I'll get the gloves." She ran out of the room.

She returned in a few minutes carrying a pair of soft, brown leather riding gloves. She resumed her place beside Aliset and showed her the gloves.  "Once the spell is in place, I will be able to grasp the stone safely and pull it from Washburn's grasp!" Fiona's cheeks were flushed with excitement.

Aliset placed a hand on her arm and spoke to her soothingly. "Wait. We must consider what could happen if we remove the ruby."

"What is there to consider? Wash would be free of its evil influence. He would be himself again. Isn't that the result we want?"

"Of course," Aliset replied. "But we don't really know whether that is the result we would get. I want Wash to be released too, but I'm not sure that would be the outcome of removing the ruby. As I told you,  I could see several layers of spells but I could not identify what they were or their purpose, nor could I remove them. While we might free him, we also could harm him. We just don't know what would happen. We know the stone can attack us, we don't know whether it would also attack Wash."

Fiona's mouth turned down, a few tears appeared in the corners of her eyes, she sighed deeply. She began to plead with Aliset. "I can't just continue to sit here and do nothing! I have to help him somehow!"

"Father Columcil will be here soon and perhaps he will be able to help us determine what is best to do, or he will be able to help us find someone who can remove these spells. I know it's hard but I think the best thing we can do right now is wait and continue to watch over Wash."  She tried to pat Fiona's hand but the girl continued to look mutinous.

Darcy entered the room. "Is everything alright?  I thought I heard raised voices. Is there a problem?" He looked at both the ladies with concern.

Aliset spoke up. "Fiona is afraid of what the innkeeper and the villagers might do if they are convinced that magic, especially black magic is involved. She feels there is more we could do to free Wash from the spells on the ruby."

Darcy turned to look at Fiona. "What is it that you think we can do differently to enable us to free Wash? You saw what happened when I tried. I don't see what else we can do until Father Columcil arrives.."

Fiona's cheeks flushed, and she stamped her foot. "You don't know what will happen when the village priest arrives. I am sure he will be attended by not only the innkeeper but  anxious villagers too. How will we withstand their demands?"

"I have the king's writ which the priest can read to them directing us to protect the knight and keep him safe. Surely they won't disobey the king?" Darcy looked at his two companions.

Aliset replied. "Frightened people will do things that they would not ordinarily do if they feel threatened. We must convince them that what has befallen Wash does not threaten them. It is coming from one source, the stone, which is directed only at him though we don't know why."

Fiona snorted. "Do you really think they will listen? And we do not know who placed those spells on the stone and made certain that Wash would find it. We don't know the intentions of the spellcaster but I have felt all along that there is evil intent here."

Aliset spoke."Fiona thinks she knows a way to get the ruby out of Washburn's grasp, using gloves with a magic spell on them to protect her from any shock. .She knows how to place this spell on her gloves and thinks she can then get stone out of his grasp. I have told her of my concern that even if she manages to pry it out of his grasp, we don't know what the effect of such an action might be on Wash.  While it might free him, it could just as easily do lasting harm to him. We just don't know enough to take the chance. I think we need to wait for Father Columcil. It is not long until Sext and the good father should be here."

"I understand your worry, Fiona, but I feel our best course and the safest for Wash is to wait." Darcy laid a sympathetic arm across Fiona's shoulders but she remained stiff and unyielding.

After a short time, they heard voices  in the street. Darcy looked out the window and saw the priest approaching followed by several villagers.  He turned to tell the women that Father Michael was near. He felt in his belt pouch and removed the parchment that outlined Kelson's charge to him regarding Sir Washburn. He addressed Fiona and Aliset. "I'm going to move to the other room to draw them away from this room. Stay with Washburn." He moved toward the door.

Aliset followed.  "I'm going with you. Perhaps two of us will have a better chance of delaying them. "  Darcy nodded and they left the room closing the door behind them. He hoped he could hold off the innkeeper and the villagers at least until Columcil arrived.

As soon as Fiona was alone with Washburn, she again considered trying to get the ruby out of his grasp. She understood Aliset's concern that they couldn't be sure that such an action would not harm rather than help him. But neither could they know what might result from allowing him to remain as he was. If the villagers became alarmed about the possibility of black magic being involved,  there was no knowing what they might do. It wasn't long ago that Deryni had been burned because of fear of their magic. She had to do something!

Quickly, Fiona pulled out the leather gloves and placed them on the empty bed. She knelt beside the bed and focused, taking several deep breaths and calming herself. She felt herself entering  a light trance. She focused on the gloves and allowed the trance to deepen. She repeated the words of the spell as she remembered them.
    Our Lady, in your sympathy for those in danger
    imbue these objects with your power
    That they may provide protection to those who wear them
    blocking attacks from without and preventing harm.
    In nomine patrii, et filie, et spiritus sanctus. Amen
A golden aura surrounded the gloves, seeming to penetrate the leather until it was no longer separate and visible from the leather.

Fiona slipped her hands into the gloves.She felt a tingle in her palms and fingers but it was not unpleasant. She stood and moved to the bed on which Wash lay, kneeling down beside him. Now that the moment was here, she was frightened but she was also determined. She could see the glint of the ruby through his fingers. Gingerly, she reached out to grasp one of his fingers and attempt to straighten it and pull it away from the stone.

Is Fiona able to straighten the first finger and pull it away from the stone?
Dice roll !roll 1d6. Use 3 xp to increase chance of success to 4,5, or 6
Results = 3. Attempt failed

Wash's grip is like iron, and she is unable to straighten even the first finger. As she pulls at it, the stone flashes. Although the glove protects her from the pain experienced by Darcy in his attempt, she can sense its power. Just for a second, Wash seems almost to grimace and moans softly. Fiona remembers what Aliset said about the possibility that the ruby would attack Wash if they managed to pry it loose. She should have listened! She looks carefully at him, but now all is as it was before. His breathing is quiet and easy and his position is unchanged. He continues to hold the stone as he had before.  She removes the gloves and curls up close beside him. Tears run down her cheeks. There is nothing she can do but wait and pray that Father Columcil will arrive soon and will know what to do.

[Laurna]

All eyes looked up at the underbelly of red scales that sparkled through the red mist of the sky. Red leather wings again stroked the mist and the sulfuric whoosh of air brushed Wash's hair into his eyes. His hair had grown out since his last haircut. How long ago had that been? Hadn't that been when he had gotten a tonsure back at the monastery in Culdi. That had been so very long ago. At least that memory had not been caged up like so many others, memories in danger of being lost behind the fence at his back.

The lion-beast roared defiance, "I am guardian of this realm!" The breath of the beast blew Washburn's hair back from his face. And the winged dragon above them seemed to be blown just a little higher into the sky.

"I am a free man, I defy you!" Wash growled in a dangerous voice. He stood his ground before the lion. Yet his heart was not as confident as his words.  His hands moved to break the ties which held the sword hilt secure at his side. If he could just break those bonds, he could make a good attack.

The Sea Eagle screeched at his side. Interpreting the eagle speech, Wash heard Darcy's words.  "As you taught me, break the bonds with your powers!" To go into trance while facing down the enemy was a risk. Wash sensed the protection of his friends, they would defend him from attack. He closed his eyes, and reached for an inner calm. Thus it was that he missed the pacing of the snow-lynx to stand between him and the lion-beast.

The beautiful cat purred in anticipation of action. She too had reached an inner calm and had used her powers. Sensing her, Wash opened his eyes to see the white paws of the lynx turn golden with a surrounding aura of warding. The huntress tensed her hind legs, with great agility she leapt at the lion- beast.

Proud of her action yet terrified for her, Wash rushed forward. The lion roared and a bolt of lightning flashed between the lion and the pouncing cat. Blinded, Wash smacked hard against the sudden appearance of a crystalline wall. As the flash dissipated, he could just barely see the lion smiling on the wall's other side.

"Only the master can free you from this prison," laughed the beast.

Wash yelled out in frustration. Then he leaned down to find the defeated snow-lynx at his feet, She was crying yet unharmed. He bent down and picked the sleek cat up in his arms, he cradled her and pet her soft fur. Carrying her, he turned away from the crystalline wall and walked back to the corral of animals and the two eagles waiting for him there. "I am sorry that I have put you all in grave danger," he said to them.

"We are unharmed and we are here for you," the lynx said with a comforting purr.

[revanne]

Columcil went quickly to his room and put together the few things that he would need. Then removing his cassock he dressed in a linen shirt and a pair of sturdy breeches. Carefully wrapping the precious text in a linen cloth he slipped it securely under his shirt next to his skin, and put his oldest thickest cassock over everything. In this warm summer weather he did not dare take a cloak; dressed for riding it would reasonably be assumed that he was on an errand for some of the higher clergy locked away in Synod, but with a cloak and a pack someone might see and suspect.

"Och ye gurt fool! Wha d'ye think wud be watchin' an auld priest like masen!" he chided himself, but he could not shake off the thought that it was best to trust no-one. Quickly he breathed a prayer of gratitude for Magistra Helena and brushed off the thought that he was abandoning his grandfather. Surely he, above all people would understand that he must do what he could for Alaric's son.

He went into the stable, where Spean whickered happily to see him. "Aye, ah've neglected ye too, ye puir beastie and noo ah'm asking ye tae run the best ye can."
He restrained his impatience while the stable lad saddled Spean for him, and in a friendly tone offered, "Och ah'll be reet glad ta tak some fresh air fer a wee bittie," but realised that he might as well have been speaking Torenthi given the blank look on the lad's face. So he sketched the sign of the cross by way of blessing, mounted Spean and took his way out of the Abbey in a gentle trot. Then when he was sure he was out of sight he whispered "Off ye gan then, ma beautie" and without a backwards glance galloped towards the inn where Aliset had told him he would be anxiously awaited. Pray God he would be there by noon and that his presence would be of some help.

[Jerusha]

"Aliset," Darcy Cameron said as he left the door to their room open. The innkeeper would clearly see him, and hopefully that would deflect the troublemaker from Washburn's room.  "How concerned should I be about Fiona?"

"You're concerned about Fiona?"  Aliset replied carefully. 

"Aye, I am."  Darcy paused to consider his words.  "She is becoming very fond of Washburn."

Aliset sighed.  Darcy may have missed the early signs of her pregnancy, but he had not missed Fiona's increasing attention to the Lendour knight.  "Yes, I believe she is.  Does that trouble you?"

"Aye and nay,"  he responded.

"That's not helpful,"  Aliset said.  Under other circumstances, she might have made light of his concern, but she also had concerns.  And Darcy was hard to dissuade once he got started on something.  "Is it more 'aye' or more 'nay'?" she asked.

"I'm not sure."  Darcy paused to push stray strands of pale hair back from his face.  "If the circumstances were different, I don't think I would have any objections.  Of course, any decisions on Fiona's future will be Iain's,  and I don't know my brother well enough to guess what he would think."

"I think he would give due consideration to Fiona's feelings," Aliset said.

"I'd like to think so, but that hasn't always happened in my family," Darcy said dryly.

"Your stepfather was never your family,"  Aliset stated firmly, and Darcy smiled.

"But in Washburn's current condition, and the way his memories have been tampered with, I don't think it's wise. I respect the real Washburn; bloody hell, I respect the present Washburn!  I'm not sure I would be as resilient as he has been through all of this.  But that doesn't mean he's safe for Fiona at the moment."  Darcy sighed and sat on the edge of the table. Aliset seated herself in the chair. 

"Darcy, Fiona does care for Washburn."  Aliset could say that much without giving away any confidences Fiona had shared with her.  "But she was born and raised to be a proper lady.  She understands propriety and responsibility."

"She was also born a Cameron through her mother," Darcy replied.  "We tend to be very protective and chart whatever course is required to ensure those we care for reach safe harbour, despite the risks."

"I hadn't noticed," Aliset said dryly. 

"Oh, I'm sure you didn't," Darcy replied and grinned wryly.  "And I seem to remember another proper young lady who threw caution into a gale to do what she thought needed to be done."

"Touché."

"The more her feelings for him grow," Darcy continued,  "the more likely it is she will do something rash.  You saw how distraught she was earlier."

"Yes," Aliset replied.  "But she listened to what we told her.  Surely she would not do something foolish."

"You forget the Cameron part," Darcy replied. 

"I never forget the Cameron part."

Darcy grinned at her.  "And best you never do."  He sighed.  "When we have freed Washburn from the gem, and returned to him his proper memories, we'll be able to look at this in a different light.  Aliset," he said suddenly.  "What if Washburn sees her differently then?  What if his affections take a different course?"

Aliset saw that Darcy had not been oblivious to Washburn's attentions to Fiona, discreet as they had been.  "He is Washburn.  When this is over you will find his heart is true.  And thank you."

"For what?" Darcy replied, puzzled.

"For saying 'when' we free Washburn and not 'if'."

Darcy smiled and leaned across to kiss her.  He would have let the kiss linger, but voices in the street and the sound of a horse being pulled up quickly drew his attention to the window.

[revanne]

Columcil settled into the rhythm of Spean's gallop, enjoying being out from the constrictions of monastery life, and now that his anxiety about his grandfather was somewhat assuaged he could also admit to himself that he was glad to be away from the protocol which inevitably surrounded him as Archbishop of Rhemuth. Not that there weren't compensations. He fingered the good cloth that he was wearing with pleasure - and this was now his oldest cassock- and remembered without regret the rough homespun in which he had set out from St Melangell's. Dia, how long ago that seemed and how much had happened.

Thinking like that was a mistake as it brought into focus his fears for Washburn, and fear was something none of them could afford to indulge in. He blessed himself and offered up the prayer for protection which he said nightly at Compline, but seemed appropriate against the darkness which held Washburn captive:

Visit this place, O Lord, we pray,
and drive far from it the snares of the enemy;
may your holy angels dwell with us and guard us in peace,
and may your blessing be always upon us;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Then he allowed himself to feel the gentle, uncomplaining presence of his mount and felt comforted.

The directions he had received were simple to follow but even had they not been he sensed that he would have been drawn by Washburn's spirit, and he heard the bell of the village church ringing out the noon Angelus as he pulled Spean to a halt before what could only be the village inn. He dismounted and would have taken Spean round the back to find stables, when a young lad darted out through the doorway and took the bridle from him. He was clearly expected.

Following the lad's gesture, which managed to convey both respect and direction, he went through the door into the main room of the inn, momentarily blinded by moving from the bright summer sunshine into semi-darkness and not at once able to focus on the figure who moved towards him. Instinctively his hand moved as if to clasp his staff before he realised that this must still be at Arx Fidei but then, his eyes clearing, he saw that the man was a priest, and he was able to smoothly continue the movement of his hand to place it over his heart and bow courteously in greeting.

"Pax vobiscum"

"Et cum spiritu vostri"

"Welcome Father, you must be Father Columcil."

"Thank ye, aye, and ye'll be...?"

Thankfully the priest seemed unoffended by Columcil's directness and smilingly offered,

"I'm Father Michael, the priest of this village. I'm away upstairs to where I believe the poor young man who was taken ill is being cared for by his friends. The prayers of the both of us cannot but help."

Columcil would have been happier if this strange priest had revealed how he knew his name, and wondered how much more he knew, but there was no time to ask as Father Michael led the way to the upper room.

[DerynifanK]

Fiona stirred and stretched. She was still curled up next to Washburn on the bed with her arm thrown over him. She was surprised to find that she had dozed off. She wondered what had aroused her, then she realized that there was the increased sound of many voices from the street outside. She also heard several voices from the main room of the inn. She supposed that this indicated the arrival of the village priest, Father Michael, accompanied by some of the villagers. She did not know whether the visiting Torenthi priest had also come.

Fiona sat up then turned to look at Wash. Again there was no change. He lay in the same position with the hand  clasping the ruby drawn up under his chin. The only thing that had elicited any response from the knight was her attempt to remove the ruby from his hand. Her enspelled glove had protected her from the ruby's attack, but Wash had winced as if in pain and moaned. She would take care to avoid it, at least for now.

She heard the sound of a flurry of hoofbeats as a horse was ridden up to the front of the inn. She heard the sound of someone dismounting and a horse being led away. The sound of boots crossed the porch of the inn, and she heard the door open. There was a brief silence, then the murmur of voices. She hoped this heralded the long awaited arrival of Father Columcil. She felt that they desperately needed his help in unraveling the mystery of the spells on the ruby, who placed them there and with what intent.

Fiona became aware of her position on the bed next to Washburn. She was sure that being discovered in such a compromising position would not do her reputation any good. They needed the help of the reeve and the village priest, and it was important that they do nothing to antagonize either of those men. She quickly rose from the bed and did her best to smooth down her gown. She ran her fingers through her hair and adjusted her veil. She heard the sound of several people mounting the stairs to the hallway outside their rooms.

She moved softly over to stand by the window. Someone knocked on the door of the room next door, and she heard it open. She heard the voice of the innkeeper/reeve again demanding to be allowed to see the knight.

"Here is Father Michael, our village priest. Show him this writ you say is signed by the king that commands you to protect the knight. I need to protect the people of the village. We need to know what is ailing him."

She heard another voice speaking quietly. Then she heard Darcy reply. "Aye, Father. You are welcome to read the King's writ. You will be able to reassure the villagers that we speak the truth. There is no threat to the people of the village. The only person at risk here is the knight himself. We are hoping that you and Father Columcil can assist us in helping him."

Fiona was excited to hear Father Columcil's name spoken. Surely that meant that the good father has arrived at last. She heard the village priest's voice as he read the writ that Darcy handed him. She also heard steps approaching the door of Wash's room. There was a soft knock at the door. Fiona moved forward and opened the door. She found herself face-to-face with the person they had all been hoping to see, Father Columcil.  She stood back to allow him to enter the room. His gaze went immediately to Washburn, lying unmoving on the bed. Then he turned to Fiona. She thought she saw a hint of disapproval in his eyes.

"Lassie, whit wuid ye be daein aloyn in his bedroom with Sir Washburn?"

Fiona's eyes flashed. She had not thought that Columcil would chide her. "I'm protecting him! Do you not see that he has not responded to your voice?  He has fallen into a coma from which we have been unable to arouse him. He is unaware of anything happening around him and unable to protect himself should anyone try to harm him.  I was not about to leave him alone and vulnerable. We have been taking turns watching over him. He is hardly in any condition to compromise me, not that he would even if he could!"

Columcil replied soothingly. "Noo, noo. Calm yersel. Ah meant nae harm. We dae need tae think abit hoo this wuid look tae Father Michael and ta villagers."

Fiona pointed to Wash lying unmoving on the bed. "Examine him. See whether you can get any response from him. Darcy even tried slapping him; nothing. We have not been able to get any response from him no matter what we do. We know the source of the spell is that ruby clutched in his hand. And there are multiple spells on that gem. I tried to remove it using an enspelled glove for protection. I was unable to do so. We do not know who is behind this, but we do not feel it safe to leave him alone while he is like this. We are hoping you can help us."

Columcil patted Fiona's hand and spoke gently. "That is wa Ah hae come, tae hep ye. Faither Michael an' Ah intend tae examine heem tae fin' th' problem an' figure oot wha's best tae do."

Just then there was a soft knock at the door. Columcil opened it and Father Michael stepped into the room followed by Aliset. Fiona could see Darcy in the doorway behind her.  "I have seen the king's writ and read it to the reeve. I have assured him that the two of us will examine the knight  to determine what we can do to help him." The two priests turned to study the man lying on the bed.

[Jerusha]

"Father Columcil!" Darcy Cameron said from the doorway to Washburn's room.  "Thank Saint Nicholas that you are here at last!"

Father Columcil managed a rueful smile.  "I wish I could hae been here sooner, but I doubt it would hae made much difference, from whit Aliset relayed to me."

Aliset resisted the impulse to throw her arms around the priest, but only barely.

"What are you going to do now?" said the innkeeper as he approached the door, stopping just short of Darcy's back.

"We'll inform you in due time," Darcy said coldly as he turned and blocked the man's entry into the room.  He moved as if to close the door.

"No you don't," the innkeeper said and reached over Darcy's shoulder to place his hand against the door.   "Your writ may be valid, but I will  make my own judgement on the risk to my inn from your knight."

"We have no need of secrets," Father Michael said calmly.  "But the room is already crowded.  Reeve, I'll look into this. Just wait outside the doorway." 

The innkeeper dropped his arm, and Darcy turned back to face the room.  Aliset moved to stand next to him, giving the priests more room to examine Washburn.   Fiona remained by the window.

Both priests moved closer to Washburn, Father Michael allowing Columcil to precede him to examine Washburn first.  Columcil checked the stricken man's pulse and his breathing and then gently opened each eye.  Washburn's eyes looked normal, but did not respond to the change in light as Columcil passed his hand over Washburn's face.  Columcil flexed Washburn's legs and then reached toward the arm bent to keep the hand with the ruby under Washburn's chin.

"Have a care, Father," Darcy quickly warned.  "If you touch the gem, the result will be very painful, and I can't swear another flash will not be worse than the first."

Columcil glanced at Fiona, who shook her head slightly.  "It did not seem worse to me," she said quietly.

"Oh, Fiona!" Aliset said and sighed.  Darcy looked from his wife to his cousin; although his eyes  narrowed, he said nothing.

Columcil grasped the knight's elbow and attempted to straighten the arm, but it would not move, even as he applied more pressure.

"Ach, laddie," Columcil said quietly as he knelt beside him.   "What has befallen ye?"  He looked up at Father Michael. "Is there anything ye would like to check before I probe deeper?" he asked.

Father Micheal looked thoughtful for a moment and then reached over to the heavy brass candlestick holder on the small table.  He held it up level with his chin and then let go.  The loud crash caused all those both in and without the room to jump except for Washburn, who did not stir.

"He would not have been expecting that, and while I don't believe he is shamming, I thought it a prudent test."

"None of us was expecting that," Darcy muttered, and Aliset poked him in the ribs.

Father Columcil took a deep, centering breath and placed his hands on Washburn's head, one over his forehead and one at the back of his neck.  He stayed that way for some time and then pulled his hands away and sat back on his heels.

"Is there nothing you can do to Heal him, Father?" Fiona asked, a hint of desperation in her voice.

"There is nothing physically amiss with him that I can Heal, and I can't get past his shields to probe deeper," Columcil said heavily.  "All I can ken is that he is held in thrall by dark magic, and it appears the source is the ruby."  Father Michael crossed himself.

"Foul, Deryni magic!" the innkeeper hissed.  "I want him out of my inn!"

Darcy half-turned toward him, but Father Michael held up a staying hand.  "Remember what Father Paulos has taught us about magic; it is not the magic that is evil, but the heart of the person that uses it for a dark purpose.  Remember that Archbishop McLain is a Deryni, as was Bishop Arilan. Would you consider them evil men?"

The innkeeper pointed toward Father Columcil.  "He said this is dark magic!"

"And so it appears to be," Father Michael responded gravely.  "I propose we move this knight to the church where Father Paulos can assist us.  Working against dark magic will require priests skilled in magic with the power of God behind them."

"This will not be an easy task," Darcy said.  "The stairs are steep and narrow.  Father Columcil, it will take both of us to carry him down the stairs."  He turned to the innkeeper.  "Can you find us a hand cart to move him to the church once we are down?"

When the innkeeper looked as if he was about to object to the task, Aliset added,  "It will get him out of your inn all the quicker."  The innkeeper nodded curtly and headed down the stairs. 

"Love," Darcy said.   "Would you fetch my sea bag and that scarf you were wearing then we were searching for the fortress?"

"Of course," Aliset responded.  Darcy remembered the scarf she had been wearing?  He was such an odd man, sometimes.

When Aliset returned with both items, Darcy set the scarf on the bed beside Washburn and then pulled a coil of light line from his sea bag.  Carefully he slipped an edge of the scarf between Washburn's hand and his chin and pulled it loosely over the hand.  He secured it gently by winding one end of the line around Washburn's wrist.

"Father Columcil, can you hoist his chest up a bit so I can slide the line around him?" Darcy asked.

The priest looked puzzled, but he lifted Washburn just enough so Darcy could pass the line across Washburn's back, underneath his free arm, and across his chest, securing it to the man's other arm, effectively immobilizing the arm and hand holding the ruby.

"I don't fancy his hand being jostled and the flash from that ruby sending us tumbling down the stairs," Darcy explained.  "I'll take him up under his shoulders; Father Columcil, you grasp his legs and guide us down."

Columcil nodded and helped Darcy roll  Washburn onto his back.  With careful maneuvering, and a grunt or two from Darcy, they soon had the knight slung between them, Columcil facing forward with Washburn's ankles held securely.  Darcy stood behind Washburn's back, one arm under Washburn's free arm and the other over the bent arm, his hands clasped securely  across the knight's chest.

"Let me go first," Father Michael volunteered.  "I can help break your fall if needed."

"Pray it does not come to that Father, but thank you," Darcy said.

"Oh, I will, son," the village priest responded, and Columcil thought he saw a ghost of a smile on the man's face. 

Aliset and Fiona formed the rear of their small procession.  Columcil started down, but Darcy hesitated at the top step.

"A bit slower if you please, Father," he said.  "He's no lightweight, and I can't see my feet or the stairs from behind him."

"Darcy, feel the steps with your senses," Aliset urged.  "Just as you felt for the workings of the lock when we practiced."  By this time, Aliset was sure Father Michael had guessed they were all Deryni and would not be dismayed by the suggestion.

"Aye, now that's a good thought!"  Darcy took a deep breath and focused on the stairs.  "Off we go, Father Columcil!"

To their joint relief, Darcy and Columcil carried Washburn down the stairs safely.  A few villagers watched them as they carried the knight across the room to the door; more onlookers watched from outside the inn.

Once they were through the doorway, Darcy did not see the hand cart he was expecting.  Instead, a sturdy boy stood beside a large, wooden wheelbarrow.

"Is that the best you could find?" Darcy asked the innkeeper angrily.

"It is what was available; the carts are in use," the innkeeper responded coldly.  "The villagers have work to be done today."

Judging by the size of the small crowd that had gathered in the street, Darcy doubted that much work was being done at the moment, but he held his tongue.  Instead, he looked at the boy.

"Hold the wheelbarrow steady while we lift him inside," Darcy directed.  The boy stepped up to the handles and took a firm grip.  Darcy and Columcil moved Washburn beside the wheelbarrow.  "Father, on the count of three, lift him up and we'll swing him in as gently as possible."  The priest nodded and tightened his grip on Washburn's ankles.  "One, two, three!"  They heaved him up and swung him into the wheelbarrow, which wobbled dangerously as Washburn settled inside, his head against the closed end over the wheel, and his knees bent at the open end, leaving his feet dangling.

Fiona moved to Washburn's side and tried to adjust his position so he might be more comfortable.  Darcy shook the wheelbarrow slightly and was not pleased by the obvious wobble, muttering something impolite under his breath. 

"Keep the wheelbarrow as steady as you can," Darcy told the boy as he stood beside it.  Columcil stood on the other side, ready to lend a hand if it tipped.  Fiona decided to walk beside Columcil, and Aliset moved to Darcy's side.  Father Michael nodded and began to lead them toward the church.

((Will they move Washburn safely to the church without incident?
Jerusha !roll 1d6 (at disadvantage, since the wheelbarrow is wobbly.)
1421 Jerusha rolled 1d6:3 <total 3>
Oops.))

The wobble of the single wheel seemed to  increase as they moved down the road.  Fortunately, they did not need to travel far to reach the church.  The boy seemed unable to decide which of the two lovely women in front of him he should let his gaze linger on, so he was not giving his task his full attention. 

Suddenly, the wheel stuck in a deeper rut and the wheelbarrow started to fall toward Darcy.  Darcy drove his shoulder against the side of the cart and braced his legs to support the weight.  Columcil grabbed the other side and hauled it back toward him.  The boy grabbed the handles tightly and brought the wheelbarrow fully upright.

Aliset held her breath, expecting a string of seaman's curses from Darcy directed at the boy, who looked like he expected the same.  Darcy flexed his shoulder and then turned to the boy.

"Take better care," he told the boy quietly, though his voice did not lack sternness.  "A job well and proper done is what it takes to impress a girl.  You won't get far this way.  Tackle it again, and keep the wheelbarrow steady this time."

The boy's face went from pale to red.  "Yes, m'lord," he said hastily and began to move forward, looking straight ahead and concentrating on the road and wheelbarrow.

Aliset studied her husband for a moment; Darcy had managed to surprise her again.

They reached the church and stopped at the bottom of the wide stairs.  Father Paulos swung the doors open.

"Come," the Torenthi priest said. "Bring your burden inside."

[Bynw]

 The village church is larger than most. Given it's proximity to Valoret and that many priests and pilgrims stop in the village. It must be able to handle an influx of visitors.

Father Paulos leads those carrying Washburn to a small room and opens the door. The room is about 50 foot square. A make-shift cot is available but almost nothing else. No windows and only one way in or out.

"Lay him gently there." Father Paulos says pointing to the make-shift cot. "What has happened to him?"

[Laurna]

Here we see Father Columcil and Darcy carrying Washburn down the stairs in the inn. Looking on concerned are Lady Aliset is in blue, and Lady Fiona  in the saffron gown. Out the door of the inn the sight of many villagers and a rickety wheelbarrow has caught the eye of our team. A Wheelbarrow? Oh Dear! Not quite a mood of transportation for the son of a duke.

[Laurna]

""Lassie, whit wuid ye be daein?" asked the grey hare of the linx in Washburn's arms.

"I'm protecting him!" The linx growled low in response to the hare.

"I am fine, sweet lady," Wash tried to explain. But the linx brushed her whiskers against his check with a concerned purr and then she leapt from his arms to stand beside the St. Melangell hare.

The hare seemed to shake his head at the slender feline, then turned back to the knight with deep concern in his eyes. "Ach, laddie," the hare said as he came close to Washburn's side.The eyes looked up into Washburn's eyes but didn't seem to see Wash looking back at him. "What has befallen ye?"

"Columcil, surely you know as I know, that this is merely a dream." Wash tried to laugh, yet found that the eyes of the animals around him were too serious to attempt to extend the jest. "When I wake, I will have a grand story to tell."

Simultaneously, the two eagles missed their wing beats and dropped several feet in the air before flying upward again. At the same time the long pointed ears of the hare turned abruptly to the side.  And the lynx's fur stood up on the back of her neck. All the animals seemed to jump nervously to the side.

"What is it?" Wash asked, confused.

"None of us was expecting that," called the white shouldered sea eagle.

"Expecting what?" Wash requested. He looked around him for something that might have happened.  He saw that the lion stood unmoving behind the crystalline wall, simply watching him. Whatever it was did not phase the beast as it did everyone else. Washburn's animal friends could give no explanation. Instead, they turned to watch the priestly rabbit make several jumps  completing a full circle around Washburn's feet and then he made the circle in the opposite direction.

"Held in thrall..." was the answer that the hare told to the linx and the eagles above.

"You are not making any sense," Washburn cried out. "Why are you not talking directly to me? It is my dream after all. I don't even think that I am hearing all that you are saying to one another. You talk only to each other, yet you look at me like I am a lost soul!" Wash exclaimed, turning his head from friend to friend. None of them seemed to acknowledge his growing despair. Wash turned around in the mist. "Which way will get me free of this? I think I should be leaving."

"Returning to Rhemuth?" drummed a deep voice far above the Lendour knight's head. A wave of sulfuric heat blew Washburn's hair back over his eyes. "King Kelson banished you from Court. You have nowhere to go. I too was once banished from Court as you are now. I had displeased my prince by doing that which I knew that I must do, against his orders.  Do you remember why you were banished?"

"... by dark magic," the hare continued to claim.

"Foul, Dark magic!" a voice echoed through the crystal.

But Washburn was not stunned by that revelation. Instead his full attention was upon the great dragon who came to land before him. Massive wings flipped once and then folded themselves neatly across the scaly crimson back. The long neck of the dragon arched and eyes of shimmering red crystals came down level to Washburn's face. "The king will keep you away from court permanently, if you do not find a way to defeat this dark magic and regain all of your memories."

"I have guessed that," Wash said, backing down from the stern gaze of the dragon. "I have fought this evil for what seems like time-eternal. This is not a dream, is it? I have lost this battle, haven't I? Are you here to finish it?" Wash looked from the tall fence that kept him from the animals caged within and then turned to the lion-beast who now prowled the far side of the crystalline wall, and then looked back at the dragon squarely in the eyes. "I'm going to die.."

"Oh, quite likely you will, son. Quite likely indeed." Washburn's head shot up. The dragon and the knight searched each other's eyes for answers. "All who are born are destined to die. I see from your memories that even I did not live as long as I had wished. But death is not a spell upon this ruby. That much I can discern."

"Ruby?" suddenly Wash understood. He whirled around, seeing the crimson landscape for what it really was. "I am enthralled...! Captured within the stone. Your stone, Father. The Lendour  Great sword belonged to you before Kelric gave it to me at my knighting. Is this what you're doing? You and Kelric have finally found a means of removing a son and brother whom neither of  you thought good enough to carry the Morgan name?"

"NO...!" bellowed the dragon. His sulfuric breath filled the air.  Washburn had to cower from the sound and the smell. "Those are your false memories talking to you. You know that is not truth. Think about it my son. Your capture was not my doing! Neither is the spell that holds you here." The great dragon spread his wings wide, but then quickly folded them upon his back. "I love you, Washburn Alaric Cynfyn Morgan! From the day you were born, to the days that I fell deathly ill,  and then I awoke to find my family's love. I remember when I too was enthralled in a red mist and then I awoke to rejoice in the life I had. I recall not very long after, a little boy ran through a crowd of knights to ride with his papa on parade. I was proud of that boy. Never doubt my love." Wash stood in shock, he did not know what truly was real anymore. This was far more than just a dream.

"Son, I put my love in the rubys of all three Lendour swords. I told Kelric that the swords of Lendour were for you. He fulfilled my wish, did he not?" The dragon nodded to the sword tied down to Washburn's belt. Wash put his hand over the smaller ruby on the short sword hilt. For the first time- yet he knew he had felt the feeling before- he could feel the love from the man who was his father."

"I don't understand? Then why can you not free me from this dark magic?"

The dragon shook his head. He leapt up into the red mist. The dragon circled once with strong wing thrusts.The misty air stirred around them all, but the dragon did not completely disappear from sight. Frustrated, the champion dragon again landed before the knight. "I am trapped here, just as you are. I can not go beyond the mist. Not even into the clearer parts of the crystal where my love was originally placed. Spells upon spells of magic overlay every part of the crystal. I put my love in the gems and my cousin blessed them. But this dark magic was unexpected." The dragon glared at the beastly-lion who watched but could not intervene.  "Son, here in the mist, I can protect you, I can protect your friends and your caged memories. Call your companions to your side. Then climb my foreleg and settle between my neck ridge.  Bishop Duncan blessed this gem once upon a time. In the center of the mist we will find hallowed ground. There we will hold against the darkness."

[DerynifanK]

Father Paulos held the door of the church open wide to allow the men to pass through. Father Michael led the way as Darcy and Columcil carried the knight into the church  along the nave to the rood screen. He turned to the side and led them through a door into a small room bare except for a cot in the center.

"Lay him here." Father Michael indicated the cot. The two men laid Washburn gently on the cot, straightening his legs and making his position as comfortable as possible. Wash did not stir. Fiona and Aliset followed them into the room.

Darcy turned to Columcil. "Help me remove the line binding his arm and hand." Columcil nodded and moved to the knight's side. Darcy untied the line securing the hand holding the ruby and began to coil it up. He passed it over the knight's chest and under his free arm. He nodded to the priest who gently lifted Wash's torso to allow Darcy to remove it from under him. Columcil lowered Wash back onto the cot. Darcy then removed the line and scarf from the hand clutching the ruby.  He handed the scarf back to Aliset and put the coiled line on the floor near the door to be retrieved later. He then stepped back to allow the three priests to move closer to the cot.

Father Michael spoke first. He turned to Father Paulos and indicated the newly arrived priest. "This is Father Columcil who just arrived from Arx Fidei Seminary to try to aid this young man and his friends. He knows them well. The knight had fallen into what appeared to be a deep sleep from which they could not arouse him. As you know, I was summoned to the inn where he lay by the innkeeper who had become alarmed at their inability to awaken the knight. He was afraid that whatever was affecting his guest would become known and frighten others away from his inn. He was loud and demanding with the young man's friends, and some of the villagers could hear his demands.  I felt it best to remove him from the inn and bring him to the church where he could be protected while we try to determine what is happening. As you have knowledge of magic and are experienced in  its use, I also wanted your assistance in discovering what has occurred and the best way to help him."

Paulos nodded solemnly. "It is true that I have knowledge and experience in the use of magic gained from my priestly education in Torenth. As a Deryni I also have certain powers. At my ordination I pledged to use both my knowledge and my powers to both serve God and help those in need. Above all I pledged never to use my powers to cause harm. I have kept my pledge. If you will trust me, I want to assist you in helping this young man."

Darcy looked at his companions. They nodded that they accepted the Torenthi priest's words. "We will welcome your help in freeing our friend and restoring his mind." he said.

Father Michael then continued. " The innkeeper had heard the words 'dark magic' and immediately decided it was dark Deryni magic and demanded the removal of the knight from his inn. He was quite loud. The villagers picked up on those words and, not understanding what was happening,  were beginning to become afraid and agitated. I reminded them of what you taught them. It is not the magic itself that is evil but the heart of the person using it. I thought it best to move him here to the church where we could have privacy while we did what was needed. That would calm the fears of the villagers and we could keep him safe. That young man," he pointed at Darcy, "does indeed carry a writ signed by the king commanding him to protect the knight."

Father Paulos looked at Darcy and nodded his acceptance of the young man's duty to the knight. With an expression of concern, he addressed his fellow priests. "Were you able to examine him there at the inn? What did you find?"

Father Michael answered first. "He did not move or respond to anything we did. Father Columcil moved his arms and legs . There was no resistance in the legs or the free arm. I was warned not to try to move or straighten the arm that is bent up under his chin. I did not think he could be shamming, but I dropped a heavy candlestick. The sudden loud noise elicited no reaction."

Darcy interjected. "Earlier I tried to open his hand and remove the gem you can see clutched there. The jewel flashed and gave me a nasty shock. It did not seem to have affected him. I stopped right away and did not try again. We thought it best to leave it be until help arrived."

Fiona spoke up. "I could not leave it there without trying to help him. I tried to move his fingers and grasp the stone using special gloves to protect my hands. The stone did attack again. It did not harm me, but he seemed to wince and moaned a little. I was afraid to touch his hand again."

Paulos turned to Father Columcil. "What did you find on your examination, Father?"

"His breathin' was slow and deep like a man deep asleep. He appeared relaxed. However, when I opened his eyes, they did nae react to th' light as they should. I was able tae move his legs and the left arm easily wi' nae resistance. Ah had been warned aboot th' other arm. Ah did not touch his hand.  Ah did try to straighten th' arm at th' elbow but there was great resistance there. Ah cuid find nothin' physically wrong that Ah cuid heal. When I tried to probe deeper, I cuid nae get past his shields. All Ah can say is that he is held in thrall by dark magic an' th' source appears tae be that ruby."

Aliset spoke up. "I probed the ruby once we realized it was the source of the problem. I did not need to touch it but could examine it with my senses. I found layers of spells embedded and entangled in the gem. I was unable to determine what they were, their purpose or who placed them there. I was only able to dispel the outermost spell which kept us from remembering where and when Wash found it."

Father Paulos looked around at the others gathered around the cot. "I will certainly do what I can to help. I would like to do my own examination. It may be that I will be able to find something that you missed. I have studied Deryni magic and spells in Torenth where I became a priest, and I have knowledge that I hope will be of use in helping this young man. Do any of you object to my examining him?" The friends looked at each other then shook their heads. They stepped back a little to allow Father Paulos to conduct his own examination of Sir Washburn.

His physical examination of Wash was very similar to that done by Father Columcil. He repeated all the same steps that Columcil had done. To complete his investigation of the knight's condition, he reached for the arm that was flexed up under his chin. The priest tried to straighten it at the elbow as Columcil had done with no more success. He then reached for the hand holding the ruby. He began to try to pull the fingers away from the gem. Darcy cried "Look out!" but almost immediately there was a crimson flash, and Father Paulos jumped back with a cry of pain. He stood rubbing his arm and flexing his fingers, a little shaken by the ruby's attack.

"We tried to warn you." Darcy looked at the priest with concern in his eyes.

"You did." agreed Paulos, "but I wanted to see if the stone attacked anyone who tried to touch it or only certain people. That definitely answered my question."

After a brief pause to allow the pain to subside, he again approached Wash. "I am going to try to probe deeper that Father Columcil was able to do. I need to see if I can get past his shields and discover more about what is happening here." He knelt beside the cot and, as Columcil had done, he placed one hand on Wash's forehead, covering his eyes, and the other on the back of his neck. Paulos was very still with his eyes closed, taking deep slow breaths and appearing to enter a trance. He remained very still for what seemed a very long time. As had happened before, there was no change in Washburn, not so much as the flicker of an eyelid. He continued to breathe slowly and appear relaxed.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity to Fiona, Father Paulos removed his hands from the knight, rose and stepped back, taking several deep slow breaths. He then turned and sat on the side of the cot. He did not try again to touch the ruby, but he stared at it intently for a long time without moving. Finally he stood and moved away from Wash's side, beckoning the others to follow him.

He stepped just outside the room and they gathered around him peppering him with questions. "Were you able to probe past his shields?

" Were you able to discover anything about the nature of the spells that are holding him in thrall or who placed them?"

"Is there anything we can do to dispel them? "

Father Paulos held up a hand to silence everyone before answering. "I was not able to penetrate his shields either. The shielding around his mind is extraordinarily strong. However, there may be another way to determine what is happening here. Do any of you know anything about the ruby, its origin or whether it has any known connection to Sir Washburn?"

Aliset answered him. "It was originally in the hilt of the Lendour greatsword, one of three weapons that made a set that belonged to Wash's father, Alaric Morgan. The heirloom set was given to Sir Washburn when he was knighted. Wash had the great sword when he was kidnapped. The sword was later recovered from a room where Wash had been held but the great ruby was missing from its hilt."

Father Paulos was quiet for several minutes as he considered what Aliset had said. He then sat down on a bench in the nave near the door, exhaustion and concern crossing his face as he looked up at the others.  "Given what you told me about the origin of the stone, the way it attacks anyone who attempts to remove it, and the state of Washburn's shields, I believe I may know the nature of the spell we have to deal with."

He paused and caught his breath as if reluctant to even name the type of spell. "It is indeed the darkest of magic, the kind of magic that makes humans fear and hate us. I believe it to be an ancient Torenthi magic trap. Very few, even in Torenth, remember the spell or would know how to set it. The one who set this is brilliant and unscrupulous."

"This spell lures its victim into an almost trance-like state, then springs the trap. Fortunately, the spell does not kill,  but the victim is left helpless until the trapper retrieves him. The trapper often uses an object of value to the owner that was previously taken to lure them into the trap and set the spell. The ruby meets the requirements for such an object." Father Paulos looked back at Wash's sleeping form and crossed himself. The others followed suit.

Father Columcil pulled from under his cassock the book about spells used on gems. "Ah found this in th' library at Arx Fidei, oan a  high shelf which held books on magic includin' Deryni magic. Happen it micht contain somethin' to hep us." He handed the book to Father Paulos. The good father took the book and  thumbed through the pages then returned it to Columcil. "I do see a few spells that resemble what I saw in the ruby but none assembled and entangled in the way these are. As I said, this is an ancient Torenthi magic trap, and I do not think that the book can help us.

"Then what are we to do?" Lady Aliset studied the Torenthi priest with great concern. The others appeared equally worried. "There must be some way to help him!" Fiona cried.

Father Paulos addressed them. "Together we may be able to dispel it. I am familiar with the theory that underlies it and how it works. There is mention of such a ritual being performed in the past, however, I have never seen it in practice and trying to dispel it may prove dangerous.  At the least it will be long and tiring and will require the energy of all of us to complete it. It will be difficult but possible. It may be our only chance to help your friend. Are you willing to take the risk and assist me? "

Fiona leaned forward eagerly." I am not well trained as the others are but I am willing to do anything I can to help Washburn."

Father Columcil indicated that he was willing to assist in any action that would free his friend and restore him to his former self.

Darcy spoke quietly to Aliset. "I know you want to help Wash, but I am concerned that it will be too dangerous for you and the bairns you carry. I will gladly take part and assist Father Paulos in any way I can. Maybe you can help me in doing what is needed."

Aliset replied forcefully. "I will not be left out of this! Other than Father Paulos, I am the one with the most training, and I feel that I am needed. I cannot let Washburn down out of fear. I will ask the father what I can do that will not endanger them but allow me to support him in freeing Wash. I am sure there is a way."

The two of them approached Father Paulos and indicated their wish to assist but told him of their concern about Aliset's pregnancy. They did not want to endanger the babes she carried. The good father smiled at both of them. "We will raise wards that will supply strong protection, and I will further instruct you in how to avoid any threat to you or them."

Father Michael was also anxious to assist in the ritual but Father Paulos discouraged him. "It is best that you do not take part.  I need you to reassure the villagers that there is no danger to them and that it is a healing ritual that is taking place here. They trust you and will be reassured. Also, If anything were to go wrong, I would not wish to leave the village with no priest." Father Michael indicated that he understood and agreed.

"We will need a warded space in which to attempt it in order to protect those involved. This room would suit our purpose well as it is seldom used and unlikely to be visited by any of the parishioners. All involved will need the protection of the wards."

"Come" said Paulos to the rest of the party as he led them back into the room where Washburn lay. "I will tell you what we will need to set the wards and what you will need to do in order to help me to properly carry out this ritual."

[Bynw]

The room has been swept clean. Candles have been placed at the compass points.

Father Paulos and Lady Aliset are charged with walking the circle and raising the Wards as the two Deryni with the most training.

Lady Fiona, her firey spirit easily seen by Father Paulos, is given the task of guarding the inside of the circle. She is given one of the blades carried by the others in case a doorway needs cut in or out of the circle at any time during the Ritual.

Father Columcil will bless the undertaking and say a prayer for the success of it.

Washburn and the cot are kept in the center of the circle. Father Paulos will sit on a stool where he can place one hand on the clenched fisted ruby and the other on Washburn's forehead.

Once the circle is completed and the Ward is raised. Then everyone, except Fiona who must take her position with the sword, will sit so they are in physical contact with one another. And finally they must sit with someone in physical contact with Father Paulos so the link can be formed to draw any energy needed from the companions in order to attempt to free Washburn during the Ritual.

Father Paulos does warn them that this working may not succeed. No matter the outcome, they will all be exhausted at the end. And with the Grace of God, Washburn will be free.

[Laurna]

"If my memory of legends serves me at all," Washburn started to remark with a tone of off humor. "I believe our beloved Saint George slew a dragon, saving a princess and a kingdom, and earning legendary status. I don't recall any legend where a dragon is ridden like a destrier."  He cocked his head in appreciation of this new experience before placing his foot upon the extended knee of the great  creature before him.

"Ah yes, George, the patron saint of your famous Cathedral of Rhemuth. That knight was poorly informed about the true nature of dragons," stated the massive crimson dragon with nonchalance.  "I will say that George did have a certain advantage with lance and armor. Plus, the dragon he is said to have slain was no larger than the horse he rode upon. For certain, it could have only been a dragonet who had not yet acquired the breath of fire." A swath of sulfurous flame spewed from the opened mouth of the great beast. When the flame dispersed,  the scaly lips turned upward in a grin. "Careful young knight, you have neither lance nor armor, and as dragon legends would state, once peeled of their outer shell, knights are quite tasty."

Washburn's hand stayed in mid air halting the hold he started to take on the dragon's neck ridge. The dragon shook with a deep belly laugh, a sound that instantly brought back the impression of childhood and his father laughing at some subtle jest.

"Father?" Wash hesitantly asked.

"Yes son?" the dragon responded with loving compassion.

Wash shook his head. "What a dream I am having. You know, I never once before dreamed of dragons, nor riding on a dragon's back."

"You are not the champion rider that you think you are until you have done so." The dragon winked his crystal eye at the knight, then lowered his head to the animal friends around Washburn's feet. "All of you climb up too. Where we go is not far, but it can not be reached by walking."

Wash leaned down to lift up the Melangell hare and place him on the neck ridge. He bent down again to reach for the lynx, but the cat made a swift leap to the dragon's foreleg and then to the neck ridge and found an indentation to sit upon. Wash leaped up to sit behind his friends, his arms reaching forward to surround them and hold firm, his fingers grasping a forward turning scale, and his feet finding scales to press into and hold firm. The eagles took flight protecting Washburn at his side. Then the dragon spread forth his massive wings and jumped up for a vertical ascent.

Nothing had prepared Washburn for such a thrill. He had ridden good horses and ones that would threaten to buck a man off. He had ridden oxen and even a camel once upon a time. But the exhilaration of flight was far greater than any he had experienced before. The crystal floor dropped away from sight; the red fog swirled over and under the outstretched tenuous webbed wings.  There was not a true wind, but there was a passage of air, and distance seemed to extend on immeasurably.

Wash settled into the flight as did his friends. The eagles kept a steady pace flying above him. He smiled at them envious of their feathered wings.

Unexpectedly a dazzling flash of light streaked through the crimson surroundings; it illuminated and danced off the wisps of fog. The dragon veered sharply in a turn to the right. The knight held his seat with the strength of his legs.  The hare and the lynx slid from their seats.  "No you don't!" Wash yelled out. His arms encircled around them both and settled them back against his chest. "What was that?" Wash howled over the sound of a thunderous rumble.

"Someone tampering with the ruby," the dragon bellowed.

"Friend or foe?" questioned the knight.

"Impossible to know," the dragon replied. "We will find protection on blessed ground and see who comes to rescue you. If they aren't friends or family, they will have to contend with me," declared the dragon. Dragon wings flattened from the turn and the wedge shaped head pulled back, mouth opened wide and a belch of flame incinerated the fog bank that had obscured their way. Before them lay a solid red floor, at its center was a cross that stood the height of a man. The dragon back winged before the cross. "Bishop Duncan's blessing will hold us safe until we are sure who tampers with the ruby's spells."

Keeping his friends close in his arms, Wash slid from the dragon's back. He landed square on his feet, lowered his friends to the sparkling ruby floor and then he bent down on both knees before the cross. He crossed himself and then put his heart into a prayer. Fervently he wondered if his prayers would be heard in this state of isolated dreaming. "I really would like to wake up from all of this," he whispered at the end of his prayer.

"I will protect you until you do, my son," the dragon replied.

[Jerusha]

The details for the casting of the circles is taken from Deryni Magic, Casting the Circle, pp. 285 - 287.


"Are you sure I can't talk you out of this?"  Darcy Cameron asked his wife, pausing in the process of unbuckling his sword belt.  They stood by the door to the room in which Washburn lay unmoving and still.

"Darcy," Aliset began, the sharpness clear in her voice, though she kept it low.  She looked into her husband's ice-blue eyes and checked her response.  The concern was clear in his eyes, as was a love he did not try to hide.

"You mean more to me than life itself," Darcy continued.  "There is not a sea I wouldn't sail, no matter how dangerous, to keep you safe."

"Darcy," Aliset said again, but this time her voice was gentle.  "I know you would, but I must do this. Washburn came to my aid after Alister's death.  He did his best to save me from my cousin's cruel hands.  He rescued me  from Lord Jaxom and the evil man who controlled him.  If it weren't for my need, none of this might have happened.  I must do my part to set Washburn free!  If I do not, and if Father Paulos fails, I will never know if I could have  made the difference.  I will carry that blame for the rest of my life."

Darcy nodded reluctantly and then took both of her hands and enclosed them in his larger, calloused ones.  "Then we will do this together, side by side."

Aliset smiled at him.  "Yes we will, side by side."

Darcy released her hands, unabashedly kissed the tip of her nose and then unbuckled his sword belt and wrapped it around the scabbard.  He set his sheathed sword against the wall beside the door; no extra weapons would be allowed within the ritual circle except those that were required.  He moved to the small table altar that had been placed between the eastern wall and Washburn.   

Father Michael had provided the table which was covered by a white cloth.  Father Paulos had placed his own Eastern crucifix with the body of Jesus carved in low relief on the table, and it was flanked by two red votive candles.  Father Michael had added a thurible and aspergillum from the church.  Darcy removed his dagger with the onyx stone set in the handle and laid it on the table beside the aspergillum.

Father Paulos surveyed the room. A small stool had been placed by the cot on the opposite side from the altar table, near Washburn's head.  Father Columcil and Fiona stood together on one side of the doorway. Father Columcil appeared resolute; Fiona was doing her best to control her eagerness.   Darcy and Aliset stood together on the other side of the doorway.  Darcy pushed several strands of pale hair away from his face, which was carefully composed to reveal nothing of his inner thoughts.   Aliset stood with her hands clasped over her abdomen, quietly determined. 

Father Paulos had instructed them on the ritual they were to perform and their duties within it.  Actions and words were committed to memory.  Aliset, the only one of them ritual trained, would be Mistress for the ritual.

"I believe we are ready," Father Paulos said.  "Father Michael, you may leave us now.  Thank you for all you have done to assist us."

Father Michael bowed his head in acknowledgement and left the room. The flames of the candles placed at the four cardinal points flickered as the door closed.

Father Paulos motioned for the others to join him and stand facing the cot and the table altar.  He nodded to Aliset, who took a deep, steadying breath and moved around the cot to stop in front of the table altar and dip her knee.  She picked up the aspergillum containing holy water mixed with a small amount of pure salt that Father Paulos had prepared and blessed earlier, so she could purify the circle with Water and Earth.  She  walked purposefully around the table altar toward the east wall where she would begin the circle.  Once there, she saluted the East Quarter with a sprinkle of holy water and a brief dip of her knee.  She turned clockwise toward the South Quarter, defining the circle as she continued to sprinkle the ground before her.  She paused at the South Quarter to salute it with an extra sprinkle and a dip of her knee and then continued on toward the West.  As she walked, she began to recite the Twenty-third Psalm, her voice quiet and reverent. 

Fiona watched Aliset as she continued to mark the boundary for the ward.  Would it protect them from the spells that kept Washburn in thrall? Water and Earth, the realm of women. She would do all she could to set Washburn free!  As Aliset spoke the words of the Twenty-third Psalm, she echoed them in her mind.  The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.... She drew on that strength.

Aliset repeated the ritual for the West and North Quarters before moving on to complete the circle at the East.  She returned to her companions and sprinkled each with holy water to purify them.  She turned toward the cot and sprinkled Washburn before handing the aspergillum to Father Paulos, who purified her.

Father Paulos returned the aspergillum to the altar table and bowed before picking up the thurible.  He passed his hand over the top to ignite the incense and moved to the East Quarter.  There he saluted the Quarter with an extra swing of the thurible to consecrate it with Fire and Air and bowed.  He turned toward the South Quarter, retracing Aliset's steps while gently swinging the thurible.

Darcy wrinkled his nose at the pungent scent of the incense.  He had never liked the smell; it reminded him of funerals.  Now that Aliset had restored his memories, he knew that the funeral he remembered was his father's.  He had been too young to clearly understand at the time. He had hoped that at the end of the service, his father would be standing alive and well outside the church door. Perhaps not with a welcoming hug, but at least a comforting pat on his shoulder. He had sobbed in despair when his hopes were dashed.

Father Paulos saluted each Quarter as he followed the circle until he reached the East. As Aliset had done, he returned to the group and censed each in turn, again including Washburn, before handing the thurible to Aliset to be censed himself.

Aliset returned the thurible to the table altar and picked up Darcy's dagger, which she would use to cast the final circuit of the magical circle.  She approached the East Quarter and raised the dagger in front of her in salute.   As she turned clockwise toward the South Quarter, she pointed the dagger toward the earth.  The tip of the dagger began to project a quasi-visible beam of bluish-violet energy that hovered just above the ground along the circle's path as she walked.

As Father Columcil watched  Aliset continue along the path of the first two circuits, he again felt the conviction that his own footsteps had been guided since he had left the ancient shrine of Saint Melangell.  So many twists and turns along the path they had followed—almost as if they were following the leaps and bounds of Saint Melangell's hare—and yet so many revelations! God willing, they would see this through together and restore Washburn to his former self.

Again Aliset saluted each Quarter, finally completing the cast in the East.  Now she moved the dagger slowly upward toward the centre of the ceiling. The energy aligned along the circle rose upward, forming a ward of protection above  them.  Aliset returned the dagger to the table altar, suddenly noting that the onyx stone in the handle displayed a very faint bluish-violet glow. Darcy's mysterious dagger. She suppressed a slight smile as she returned to stand with the others.  Father Paulos nodded, and those who would call the Quarters took their positions.