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movements, as he helped them take off chasuble and other vestments, were automatic,
Alister's; and he allowed that other part of him to take over his physical movements as he
scanned the chamber for the first time since entering it.
Anscom was gone. He suspected that the archbishop had returned to his own vesting
chapel almost immediately, sensing that both of his colleagues would wish to be alone with
their grief. Anscom had always been a man of practical sensitivity only one of the traits
which had first drawn him and Camber into friendship, more than forty years before.
But Joram was there, eyes averted, deep in thought, changing back into his accustomed
Michaeline raiment with movements as automatic as Camber's. Camber held his arms
away from his body as he watched his son, letting Johannes knot the broad white sash of
Michaeline knighthood around his waist. As the other monk draped his shoulders with the
formal, badge-embroidered mantle of the vicar generalship, Camber ducked his head to
permit donning of the silver pectoral cross which Johannes brought. Lastly, Camber
picked up the skullcap of royal blue and put it on his head, adjusting it automatically as he
moved closer to Joram. Johannes motioned for the other monk to leave and withdrew to
stand against the door, there to wait until his superior was ready to go.
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Camber shifted the folds of his mantle to a more comfortable arrangement as Joram
looked up. One of the cathedral monks was fastening Joram's cassock, a second standing
by with his white sash. Joram's eyes were hooded and unreadable.
"I meant to speak to you before this, Joram, but I thought you would want the time
alone," Camber said. He was well aware that he dared not speak too openly in front of
Joram's dressers. "I'm sure you're aware of the Grand Chapter. I fear it may seem
precipitate, but I knew that you would be occupied with family duties for the next few
days, and scheduling this meeting for today seemed the only way to permit your
attendance. I value your counsel, you know."
Joram averted his eyes as he fastened his own cloak at his throat. "Thank you, Father
General. I appreciate the thought."
"Will you accompany me?" Camber continued, laying his hand gently on Joram's elbow
and gesturing toward the door with his eyes.
Joram, helpless to resist under the gaze of so many curious observers, could only
murmur assent and move with him. Though Camber knew that Joram must be yearning
for some time alone, under the double burden of grieving the loss of Cullen and pretending
to grieve for his father, there was simply no help for it. Camber dreaded facing his first
Cullen-encounter with the Michaelines without Joram at his side, and Joram must leave in
the morning to escort "Camber's" body back to Caerrorie.
Just outside the sacristy, Gellis de Cleary, the acting precentor, was waiting to conduct
them to the chapter house. Reentering the cathedral by a north door, they made their way
along the ambulatory aisle and across the south transept, exiting through the processional
door into the warm brightness of the cloister walk. At least a score of Michaelines, clergy
and knights mixed, were milling outside the entrance to the chapter house, catching a last
breath of cooler air before joining their brethren in the closed, circular hall. The stragglers
picked up their pace as they saw their vicar general approaching, the scrape of sandaled
and boot-shod feet shuffling and echoing on the tiled floor.
As Camber appeared in the doorway and was seen, a respectful pathway opened before
him and the chamber began to quiet. Those already seated rose at his entry, crowding
together on the tiers of stone benches to make room for their more tardy colleagues. All
conversation ceased as the tall, gray-haired figure moved among them.
Smiling faintly, nodding greeting and recognition to those whose eyes he met, Camber
made his way through the center of the hall, knowing in a flash of dual memory that he
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