Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Introduction
CHAPTER ONE - “Princes met and talked against me.” PSALMS 119:23
CHAPTER TWO - “Hell hath no fury like the woman scorned, Or the woman mourning.”
CHAPTER THREE - “And I will give him the morning star.” REVELATIONS 2:28
CHAPTER FOUR - “O God, with your judgement endow the King, and with your ...
CHAPTER FIVE - “And a voice shall speak from legend.”
CHAPTER SIX - “A Spokesman of the Infinite must guide. . . .”
CHAPTER SEVEN - “Things are not what they seem.”
CHAPTER EIGHT - “In the unknown lies terror, and in the night, deceit.”
CHAPTER NINE - “Whence comes the wonder, whence the miracle?”
CHAPTER TEN - “Even as Father, so the Son.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN - “For surely laughter masks a nervous soul.”
CHAPTER TWELVE - “A gilded silver crucifix—yours, Duncan!”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN - “Who, then, is the Defender?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN - “Defender’s Sign shall seal . . .”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN - “You placed on his head, O Lord, a crown of precious stones. ...
INDEX OF CHARACTERS
INDEX OF PLACE-NAMES
PRAISE FOR KATHERINE KURTZ
“At her best, Kurtz’s love of history lets her do things with her characters and their world that no nonhistorian could hope to do.”—Chicago Sun-Times
“Kurtz has created a fascinating idealization of the Middle Ages and infused it with a kind of magic one can truly believe in.”—Fantasy Review
PRAISE FOR THE
DERYNI NOVELS
DERYNI CHECKMATE
“Great read. Action, characterization, and smooth story-telling combine for a real page-turner.”
—Yet Another Book Review Site
HIGH DERYNI
“A fast, fun read for sword-and-sorcery fans.”
—Yet Another Book Review Site
KING KELSON’S BRIDE
“Kurtz’s triumphant return to the magical medieval realm of Gwynedd . . . exciting and intriguing.”—SF Site
“The author remains just as polished and expert as ever.”
—Publishers Weekly
IN THE KING’S SERVICE
“Kurtz’s fidelity to the customs and mores of medieval Europe gives a richness of detail to her alternate medieval world.”—Library Journal
CHILDE MORGAN
“The author’s meticulous re-creation of a medieval world provides a sumptuous background for her characters’ struggles to remain true to their honor and to their beliefs.”
—Library Journal
Deryni books available from Ace
DERYNI RISING
DERYNI CHECKMATE
HIGH DERYNI
KING KELSON’S BRIDE
IN THE KING’S SERVICE
CHILDE MORGAN
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
DERYNI RISING
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Copyright © 1978, 2004 by Katherine Kurtz.
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For Carl M. Selle,
late Professor of English and Humanities,
University of Miami,
who knew, all along, that it would
begin this way.
INTRODUCTION
Putting the Deryni into Perspective
DERYNI Rising was written more than thirty years ago. At that time, the fantasy genre as we now know it did not exist, except in the epic template provided by The Lord of the Rings, the masterwork of Oxford professor J. R. R. Tolkien. Others had been writing fantastic literature earlier in the twentieth century and even before—Lord Dunsany, E. R. Eddings, G. K. Chesterton, and C. S. Lewis, to name but a few—but their work reflected the still-evolving literary forms of an earlier age and were becoming less and less accessible to readers in the mid-twentieth century, both because of the scarcity of copies of such works and because of changing tastes in literary style.
The Lord of the Rings was to prove a major milestone in the continuing evolution of the genre. Its commercial success would inspire Betty and Ian Ballantine to launch the immensely important Ballantine Adult Fantasy Series, intended to put some of Tolkien’s predecessors back into print and, ultimately, to begin publishing new, original fantasy that hopefully would carry the fantasy tradition forward.
Enter Katherine. By the late 1960s, I had been an avid reader of science fiction and fantasy (and much else besides) for more than a decade, and I vividly remember my periodic forays into the newsstand at the bus terminal through which I passed every afternoon on my way home from school. I’m sure that’s where I picked up my first copies of The Lord of the Rings and works by other authors who were destined to become giants in the world of fantasy and science fiction: early Robert A. Heinlein and Andre Norton, Poul Anderson, Marion Zimmer Bradley, and a host of others, often as half of an Ace Double Novel.
By then I had read out several local libraries, amassed a considerable collection of science fiction, convinced several college professors that science fiction was, indeed, worthy of serious consideration, and begun my first tentative ventures into writing the kinds of things I liked to read, of which I could never find e
nough.
I attended my first science fiction convention over Labor Day weekend of 1968, in Oakland, California. Up until a few months before, when a flyer on a bulletin board at yet another library had alerted me to something upcoming called Baycon, I had not dreamed that there were thousands of others who shared my passion for this sort of reading. I went; I was amazed; I actually met some of the luminaries whose work had nurtured me through my teen years. I even put together a fantasy costume (based on the world that would become the Deryni), competed, and won in my division.
But far more important, through a chance conversation with another author about my writing aspirations, I learned of the historic experiment that the Ballantines were about to launch, and even got an offer of an introduction—a classic instance of being in the right place, at the right time, with the “right stuff.”
In late spring of the following year, I sent Betty Ballantine sample chapters and an outline for what was to become Deryni Rising, along with a paragraph about each of the two other books that would complete that first trilogy. (In this I was following the lead of Tolkien; and if this helped to perpetuate the notion that fantasy must be in three-book packages, I must plead partially responsible.) By June, Ballantine had bought all three books. It had been my first attempt to sell any of my work.
Deryni Rising, which appeared in mid-1970, was the first original fantasy novel to be published under the Ballantine Adult Fantasy aegis, and it soon came to be regarded as a classic in the field. The series now extends to four trilogies and a number of additional Deryni titles, all of them with long and impressive print histories. My recent move to Ace as my primary publisher has given me the opportunity to see the earliest Deryni works put back into print.
This present reissue of the original Deryni Trilogy is particularly welcome, since these books are most accessible to readers who have not yet been caught up in the convolutions of later books in the series, as my writing style has evolved and the Deryni universe grows more complex. And since the protagonist of Deryni Rising is only fourteen, the books also appeal to younger readers; indeed, many English teachers have found the books invaluable in encouraging their students to read.
Were I writing the first three books today, with thirty years’ more experience as an author as well as living on this planet, there are things I probably would have done differently—though hindsight is always twenty-twenty. In 1969, when I began actually writing Deryni Rising, the sub-genre of what I now refer to as historical fantasy did not yet exist. I was making it up as I went along, though at the time, I thought that all fantasy had to have magical creatures, rhyming spells, and special languages. Obviously, that perception changed as my own writing style and universe emerged, and as I continued my graduate studies in medieval history.
Many of the “magical” powers of the Deryni can, of course, be attributed to abilities usually regarded in our own world as the realm of parapsychology, with a healthy dash of mysticism and spirituality thrown in. Since western Christianity was an inextricable part of medieval life, I had already started thinking in terms of paranormal abilities yoked to a quasi-religious framework, which married nicely with the historical background. (Jack of Eagles, by James Blish, had already been a catalyst for my interest in more classic forms of occultism.)
I must also confess that Star Trek’s transporters sparked the original inspiration for Deryni Transfer Portals, though it took me several novels to nail down a consistent rationale for the magic behind the Deryni constructs, as I made the transition from technology to magic.
For some aspects of the early appearance of the Deryni universe—and I am a very visual person—I am much indebted to several historical films, especially in regard to costumes. El Cid made a profound impression; I still picture Charissa’s Moorish bodyguards—and, later, Prince Azim—looking a good deal like Prince Moutamin, one of the Moorish emirs who ally with the Cid. (In later books, Prince Sancho and his sister Uracca would provide a visual template for the incestuous Imre and Ariella, in the Camber Trilogy, and the name Uracca crops up in the lineage of Meara under a slightly different spelling.) The Richard Burton-Peter O’Toole film Becket also evoked powerful visual images, both for its costumes and for the taut interplay of king and bishop. And the interaction between Thomas More and his daughter Margaret Roper, as depicted in A Man for All Seasons, provided a vivid model for the relationship between Camber and Evaine.
For the machinations of Kelson’s Crown Council and the more magical (and devious) Camberian Council, I must definitely tip my hat to Frank Herbert’s Dune, the only novel for which I actually sat down and analyzed particular scenes to figure out how and why they worked so well.
Many things have evolved in the course of thirty years, of course, as my vision of the Deryni universe has continued to expand. Insofar as it is possible to bring these earliest books more into line with the later series, I have done so, though I have tried not to tamper with the essentials of books that have stood the test of time. “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” I have corrected obvious typos, of which there were only a few, and made minor adjustments to the language, but I have resisted the temptation to excise or seriously rewrite parts that are not consistent with the Deryni canon as it later developed. Thus, Stenrect crawlers and some of the mythical beasts that Kelson must face down in the final duel at the end of the book remain, as do the rhymed incantations between Kelson and Charissa, though you’ll see these features nowhere else in the series. (Caradots do make a brief return engagement in the second book, Deryni Checkmate, but that seems to have been their swan-song.)
Likewise, the use of the Deryni expletive Khadasa! gradually falls by the wayside as the series progresses, though loyal fans have made numerous attempts to come up with a background for the term that makes sense. As of this writing, the jury is still out regarding the meaning of the term, or where it comes from—Torenth, lost Caeriesse, and the Anvil of the Lord have all been mooted as its source—but the bottom line is that it pretty much disappears after the first three books. So does the title of monsignor, as the Church in Gwynedd takes on a profile more high Anglican than Roman Catholic, though the use of Latin still lends an unmistakably medieval flavor to this aspect of the universe.
But I don’t apologize for any of these blips on the screen that charts the evolution of the Deryni universe. (In fact, I am continually amazed that so few inconsistencies have crept into the series during a span of more than thirty years.) Deryni Rising is still a damned fine first novel, as evidenced by its track record and the hordes of faithful fans who continue to keep the series alive by their encouragement and enthusiasm.
Which brings us back to this reissue of the Deryni Trilogy. These new editions—what I have referred to, tongue in cheek, as the “author’s cut” of the books—will make the series once again accessible to new readers, younger readers, and those who encourage them. And for those loyal fans of the Deryni universe who have read their original copies to tatters or who have loaned them out to eager friends and never seen them again, this is a chance to replenish their stash.
Finally, I owe a special debt of thanks to Melissa Houle, one of the Web mistresses from www.rhemuthcastle.com, who scanned me the text from her beloved copy of Deryni Rising and probably broke its spine in the process. These first three books, and the three books of the Camber Trilogy, were all written on a typewriter, with carbon copies, in the dark ages before personal computers and word processing. Her kindness has saved me many hours of retyping the manuscript, so that preparing this edition took far less time out of my work on the next new Deryni novel. Another fan has already scanned Deryni Checkmate for me, and I have no doubt that a digital copy of High Deryni will be ready by the time I need to crank it through my machine.
So welcome to Gwynedd, whether for the first time or for a return visit. May you spend many hours of reading pleasure.
—Katherine Kurtz
County Wicklow, Ireland
PROLOGUE
“Lest the hunter become the hunted.”
BRION Haldane, King of Gwynedd, Prince of Meara, and Lord of the Purple March, reined in his horse sharply at the top of the hill and scanned the horizon.
He was not a big man, though regal bearing and a catlike grace had convinced many a would-be adversary that he was. But his enemies rarely had time to notice this technicality. Dark, lean, with just a trace of gray beginning to show at his temples, in the precise black beard, he commanded instant respect by his mere presence. When he spoke, whether with the crackle of authority or the lower tones of subtle persuasion, men listened and obeyed.
And if fine words could not convince, often the persuasion of cold steel could. The worn scabbard of the broadsword at his side attested to that, as did the slender stiletto in its wrist sheath. The hands that steadied the skittish warhorse between his knees were gentle but firm on the red leather reins—the hands of a fighting man, the hands of one accustomed to command.
If one studied him more closely, however, one was forced to revise the original impression of warrior-king. For the wide gray eyes held promise of much more than mere military prowess and expertise. Indeed, they glittered with a shrewd intelligence and wit that were known and admired throughout the Eleven Kingdoms.
And if there was a fleeting aura of mystery, of forbidden magic about this man, that was discussed in whispers, if at all. For at thirty-nine, Brion of Haldane had kept the peace in Gwynedd for nearly fifteen years. The king who now sat his horse at the top of the hill had earned such infrequent moments of pleasure as he now pursued.
Brion slipped his feet from the stirrups and stretched his legs. At midmorning, the ground fog was just lifting, and the unseasonable cold of the night before still permeated everything. Even the protection of hunting leathers could not wholly prevent the light chain mail beneath Brion’s tunic from chilling like ice. And silk beneath the mail was small consolation.
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