The King's Deryni Read Online Free

learned not to be surprised at his knack with animals. The true test will be whether his accuracy holds for ten runs. These are smaller rings than we’ve been using up at Culdi. I’ll need to remedy that.”
    Kenneth said nothing, only hiking himself up onto the fence rail with Llion to watch as a squire set a new ring and the next boy began his run. Airey Redfearn and his twin, Prys, were several years older than Alaric, already official pages at court, and had six rings each, though the former had also missed two rings. One more miss would put Master Airey out of the competition.
    â€œLlion, Llion!” came a young and urgent voice from Llion’s other side, as a boy in the sky-blue and silver of the Duchy of Cassan pelted up behind them and scrambled onto the rail between the two adults. “What did I miss? How many has Alaric got? Do you think he’ll take all ten rings? Oh, hello, Uncle Kenneth.”
    â€œHello, Duncan.”
    The tousle-headed boy who snuggled into the curve of Kenneth’s arm was only a few months younger than Alaric: Duncan McLain, the younger grandson of Andrew Duke of Cassan, whose sister had been Kenneth’s mother. He was also Alaric’s favorite cousin.
    â€œIn answer to your most pressing question,” Llion said, chuckling, “he has seven, and—oh, dear!” he murmured, as Airey Redfearn not only missed his third ring but tumbled from the saddle as his pony jinked and bucked at the end of the run. “Well, that’s young Airey done for the day.”
    â€œOw, bad luck!” Duncan said. “That pony is nasty! Airey is much better than that!”
    â€œAye, he usually is,” Llion agreed. “Let’s see how Alaric does on
his
next run. He’s next after Ciarán MacRae.”
    â€œIs Ciarán any good?” Kenneth asked, just as an older page with a shock of bright red hair shot from the start and neatly took his next ring. “Well, answering my own question, obviously he is.”
    â€œI don’t think he has any misses yet,” Llion replied.
    â€œHe’s nice, too,” Duncan chimed in. “Look! Alaric is lining up for another go.”
    All of them fell silent as a new ring was set and a senior squire signaled ready. With a nod, Alaric collected the shaggy mountain pony and started his next run—and snared the ring smartly. As the lance lifted, they could see the new ring glinting in the sun as it slithered down the shaft to stack atop the first seven. Young Duncan let out a delighted whoop and waved energetically as his cousin pulled up at the end of the run and glanced back in their direction, flashing a gap-toothed grin. Atop a rail on the opposite side of the ring run, a dark-haired older boy in Haldane page’s livery looked decidedly less pleased.
    â€œHah, Cornelius Seaton is soooo jealous!” Duncan muttered under his breath.
    Kenneth refrained from comment, but he could sense Llion considering a fitting response. Both were well aware that the said Seaton scion, regarded as one of the more promising of Duke Richard’s latest crop of pages, had been unceremoniously dumped from his pony on his very first run at the rings.
    â€œIs it charitable, do you think, to take delight in another’s misfortune?” Llion asked after a beat.
    â€œHe hates Alaric,” Duncan said stubbornly, lower lip outthrust. “He does everything he can to make Alaric look bad.”
    Llion merely slipped an arm around the younger boy in sympathy, but Kenneth allowed himself a tiny grimace, well aware of the long-standing antipathy between the two youngsters—and its cause. Though Cornelius’s father, Sir Errol Seaton, was regarded as a decent enough man, and recently had been appointed to the crown council, his mother was a sister of the powerful Bishop of Nyford, Oliver de Nore, who had made a career of persecuting Deryni. Their youngest brother had been the disgraced