The Curse Of Chalion Part 20

"No marriage without my consent, aye, he spoke that truly enough-but none without dy Jironal's consent, either! Sara has whispered it to me. After his brother's death, but before he rode out of Cardegoss to seek the murderer, the chancellor closeted himself with my brother and persuaded him to make a codicil to his will. In the event of Orico's death, the chancellor is made regent for my brother Teidez-"

"I believe that arrangement has been known for quite some time, Royesse. There is a regency council set up to advise him, as well. The provincars of Chalion would not let that much power pa.s.s to one of their number without a check."

"Yes, yes, I knew that, but-"

"The codicil does not attempt to abolish the council, does it?" asked Cazaril in alarm. "That would set the lords in an uproar." would set the lords in an uproar."

"No, that part is left all as it was. But formerly, I was to be the ward of my grandmother and my uncle the provincar of Baocia. Now, I am to be transferred to dy Jironal's own wards.h.i.+p. There is no council to check that! And listen, Cazaril! The term of his guardians.h.i.+p is set to be until I marry, and permission for my marriage is left entirely in his hands! He can keep me unwed till I die of old age, if he chooses!"

Cazaril concealed his unease and held up a soothing hand. "Surely not. He must die of old age long before you. And well before that, when Teidez comes to his man's estate and the full powers of the royacy, he can free you with a royal decree."

"Teidez's majority is set at twenty-five years, Cazaril!"

A decade ago, Cazaril would have shared her outrage at this lengthy term. Now it sounded more like a good idea. But not, granted, with dy Jironal in the saddle instead.

"I would be almost twenty-eight years old!"

Twelve more years for the curse to work upon her, and within her...no, it was not good by any measure.

"He could dismiss you you from my household instantly!" from my household instantly!"

You have another Patroness, who has not chosen to dismiss me yet. "I grant you have cause for concern, Royesse, but don't borrow trouble before its time. None of this matters while Orico lives." "I grant you have cause for concern, Royesse, but don't borrow trouble before its time. None of this matters while Orico lives."

"He is not well, Sara says."

"He is not very fit," Cazaril agreed cautiously. "But he's not by any means an old man. He's barely more than forty."

By the expression on Iselle's face, she found that quite aged enough. "He is more...not-well than he appears. Sara says."

Cazaril hesitated. "Is she that intimate with him, to know this? I had thought them estranged."

"I don't understand them." Iselle knuckled her eyes. "Oh, Cazaril, it was true true what Dondo told me! I thought, later, that it might have been just a horrid lie to frighten me. Sara was so desperate for a child, she agreed to let dy Jironal try, when Orico...could not, anymore. Martou was not so bad, she said. He was at least courteous. It was only when he could not get her with child either that his brother cajoled him to let him into the venture. Dondo was dreadful, and took pleasure in her humiliation. But Cazaril, Orico what Dondo told me! I thought, later, that it might have been just a horrid lie to frighten me. Sara was so desperate for a child, she agreed to let dy Jironal try, when Orico...could not, anymore. Martou was not so bad, she said. He was at least courteous. It was only when he could not get her with child either that his brother cajoled him to let him into the venture. Dondo was dreadful, and took pleasure in her humiliation. But Cazaril, Orico knew knew. He helped persuade persuade Sara to this outrage. I don't understand, because Orico surely does not hate Teidez so much he'd wish to set dy Jironal's b.a.s.t.a.r.d in his place." Sara to this outrage. I don't understand, because Orico surely does not hate Teidez so much he'd wish to set dy Jironal's b.a.s.t.a.r.d in his place."

"No." And yes And yes. A son of dy Jironal and Sara would not be a descendant of Fonsa the Fairly-wise. Orico must have reasoned that such a child might grow up to free the royacy of Chalion from the Golden General's death curse. A desperate measure, but possibly an effective one.

"Royina Sara," Iselle added, her mouth crooking, "says if dy Jironal finds Dondo's murderer, she plans to pay for his funeral, pension his family, and have perpetual prayers sung for him in the temple of Cardegoss."

"That's good to know," said Cazaril faintly. Although he had no family to pension. He hunched over a little and smiled to hide a grimace of pain. So, not even Sara, who had filled Iselle's maiden ears with details of shocking intimacy, had told her of the curse. And he was certain now that Sara, too, knew of it. Orico, Sara, dy Jironal, Umegat, probably Ista, possibly even the Provincara, and not one had chosen to burden these children with knowledge of the dark cloud that hung over them. Who was he to betray that implicit conspiracy of silence?

No one told me, either. Do I thank them now for their consideration? When, then, did Teidez's and Iselle's protectors plan to let them know of the geas that wrapped them round? Did Orico expect to tell them on his deathbed, as he'd been told by his father Ias? When, then, did Teidez's and Iselle's protectors plan to let them know of the geas that wrapped them round? Did Orico expect to tell them on his deathbed, as he'd been told by his father Ias?

Had Cazaril the right to tell Iselle secrets that her natural guardians chose to conceal?

Was he prepared to explain to her just how how he had found it all out? he had found it all out?

He glanced at Lady Betriz, seated now on another stool and anxiously watching her distressed royal mistress. Even Betriz, who knew quite well that he had attempted death magic, did not know that he had succeeded.

"I don't know what to try next," moaned Iselle. "Orico is useless useless."

Could Iselle escape this curse without ever having to know of it? He took a deep breath, for what he was about to say skirted treason. "You could take steps to arrange your marriage yourself."

Betriz stirred and sat up, her eyes widening at him.

"What, in secret?" said Iselle. "From my royal brother?"

"Certainly in secret from his chancellor."

"Is that legal?"

Cazaril blew out his breath. "A marriage, contracted and consummated, cannot readily be set aside even by a roya. If a sufficiently large camp of Chalionese were persuaded to support you in it-and a considerable faction of opposition to dy Jironal exists ready-made-setting it aside would be rendered still harder." And if she were got out of Chalion and placed under the protection of, say, as shrewd a father-in-law as the Fox of Ibra, she might leave curse and faction both behind altogether. Arranging the matter so that she didn't simply trade being a powerless hostage in one court for being a powerless hostage in another was the hard part. But at least an uncursed hostage, eh? But at least an uncursed hostage, eh?

"Ah!" Iselle's eyes lit with approval. "Cazaril, can it be done?"

"There are practical difficulties," he admitted. "All of which have practical solutions. The most critical is to discover a man you can trust to be your amba.s.sador. He must have the wit to gain you the strongest possible position in negotiation with Ibra, the suppleness to avoid offending Chalion, nerve to pa.s.s in disguise across uneasy borders, strength for travel, loyalty to you and you alone, and courage in your cause that must not break. A mistake in this selection would be fatal." Possibly literally.

She pressed her hands together, and frowned. "Can you find me such a man?"

"I will bend my thoughts to it, and look about me."

"Do so, Lord Cazaril," she breathed. "Do so."

Lady Betriz said, in an oddly dry voice, "Surely you need not look far."

"It cannot be me." With a swallow, he converted I could fall dead at your feet at any moment I could fall dead at your feet at any moment to, "I dare not leave you here without protection." to, "I dare not leave you here without protection."

"We shall all think on it," said Iselle firmly.

THE F FATHER'S D DAY FESTIVITIES Pa.s.sED QUIETLY. C QUIETLY. CHILL rain dampened the celebrations in Cardegoss, and kept many from the Zangre from attending the munic.i.p.al procession, though ORICO went as a royal duty and as a result contracted a head cold. He turned this to account by taking to his bed and avoiding everyone thereby. The Zangre's denizens, still in black and lavender for Lord Dondo, kept a sober Father's Feast, with sacred music but no dancing. rain dampened the celebrations in Cardegoss, and kept many from the Zangre from attending the munic.i.p.al procession, though ORICO went as a royal duty and as a result contracted a head cold. He turned this to account by taking to his bed and avoiding everyone thereby. The Zangre's denizens, still in black and lavender for Lord Dondo, kept a sober Father's Feast, with sacred music but no dancing.

The icy rain continued through the week. Cazaril, one sodden afternoon, was combining practical application with tutorial by teaching Betriz and Iselle how to keep accounts, when a crisp rap on the chamber door overrode a page's diffident voice announcing, "The March dy Palliar begs to see my lord dy Cazaril."

"Palli!" Cazaril turned in his chair, and levered himself to his feet with a hand on the table. Bright delight flooded both his ladies' faces with sudden energy, driving out the ennui. "i wasn't expecting you in Cardegoss so soon!"

"Nor was I." Palli bowed to the women and favored Cazaril with a twisted grin. He dropped a coin in the page's hand and jerked his head; the boy bent double, in a gradation that indicated deep approval of the amount of the largesse, and scampered off.

Palli continued, "I took only two officers and rode hard; my troop from Palliar follows at a pace that will not destroy horses." He glanced around the chamber and shrugged his broad shoulders. "G.o.ddess forfend! I didn't think I was speaking prophecy, last time I was here. Gives me a worse chill than this miserable rain." He cast off a water-spotted woolen cloak, revealing the blue-and-white garb of an officer of the daughter's order, and ran a rueful hand through the bright drops beading in his dark hair. He clasped hands with Cazaril, and added, "b.a.s.t.a.r.d's demons, Caz, you look terrible!"

Cazaril could not, alas, respond to this with a very well put. He instead turned off the remark with a mumble of, "It's the weather, I suppose. It makes everyone dull and drab."

Palli stood back and stared him up and down. "Weather? When last I saw you, your skin was not the color of moldy dough, you didn't have black rings around your eyes like a striped rock-rat, and, and, you looked pretty fit, not-pale, pinched, and potbellied." Cazaril straightened up, indignantly sucking in his aching gut, as Palli jerked a thumb at him and added, "Royesse, you should get your secretary to a physician."

Iselle stared at Cazaril in sudden doubt, her hand going to her mouth, as if really looking him for the first time in weeks. Which, he supposed, she was; her attentions had been thoroughly absorbed by her own troubles through these late disasters. Betriz looked from one of them to the other, and set her teeth on her lower lip.

"I don't need to see a physician," said Cazaril firmly, loudly, and quickly. Or any other such interrogator, dear G.o.ds. Or any other such interrogator, dear G.o.ds.

"So all men say, in terror of the lancet and the purgative." Palli waved away this stung protest. "The last one of my sergeants who developed saddle boils, I had to march in to the old leech-handler at sword's point. Don't listen to him, Royesse. Cazaril"-his face sobered, and he made an apologetic half bow to Iselle-"May I speak to you privately for a moment? I promise I shall not keep him from you long, Royesse. I cannot linger."

Gravely, Iselle granted her royal permission. Cazaril, quick to catch the undertone in Palli's voice, led him not to his office antechamber but all the way down the stairs to his own chamber. The corridor was empty, happily. He closed his heavy door firmly behind them, to thwart human eavesdroppers. The senile spirit smudges kept their confidences.

Cazaril took the chair, the better to conceal his lack of grace in movement. Palli sat on the edge of the bed, folded his cloak beside him, and clasped his hands loosely between his knees.

"The daughter's courier to Palliar must have made excellent time despite the winter muds," said Cazaril, counting days in his head.

Palli's dark brows rose. "You know of that already? I'd thought it a, ah, quite private call to conclave. Though it will become obvious soon enough, as the other lord dedicats arrive in Cardegoss."

Cazaril shrugged. "I have my sources."

"I don't doubt it. And so have I mine." Palli shook his finger at him. "You are the only intelligencer in the zangre that I would trust, at present. What, under the G.o.ds' eyes, has been happening here at court? The most lurid and garbled tales are circulating regarding our late Holy General's sudden demise. And delightful as the picture is, somehow I don't really think he was carried off bodily by a flight of demons with blazing wings called down by the Royesse Iselle's prayers."

"Ah...not exactly. He just choked to death in the middle of a drinking fest, the night before his wedding."

"On his poisonous, lying tongue, one would wish."

"Very nearly."

Palli sniffed. "The lord dedicats whom Lord Dondo put in a fury-who are not only all the ones he failed to buy outright, but also those who've grown ashamed of their purchase since-have taken his taking-off as a sign the wheel has turned. As soon as our quorum arrives in Cardegoss, we mean to steal a march on the chancellor and present our own candidate for Holy General to Orico. Or perhaps a slate of three acceptable men, from which the roya might choose."

"That would likely go down better. It's a delicate balance between..." Cazaril cut off, loyalty and treason loyalty and treason. "Too, dy jironal has his own powers in the temple, as well as in the Zangre. You don't want this infighting to turn too ugly."

"Even dy Jironal would not dare disrupt the temple by setting soldiers of the son upon soldiers of the daughter," said Palli confidently.

"Mm," said Cazaril.

"At the same time, some of the lord dedicats-naming no names right now-want to go farther. maybe a.s.semble and present evidence of enough of both the Jironals' bribes, threats, peculations, and malfeasances to Orico that it would force him to dismiss dy Jironal as chancellor. make the Roya take a stand."

Cazaril rubbed his nose, and said warningly, "Forcing Orico to stand would be like trying to build a tower out of custard. I don't recommend it. Nor will he readily be parted from dy Jironal. The Roya relies on him...more deeply than I can explain. Your evidence would need to be utterly overwhelming."

"Yes, which is part of what brings me to you." Palli leaned forward intently. "Would you be willing to repeat, under oath before the daughter's conclave, the tale you told me in Valenda about how the Jironals sold you to the galleys?"

Cazaril hesitated. "I have only my word to offer as proof, Palli. too weak to topple dy Jironal, I a.s.sure you."

"Not alone, no. But it might be just the coin to tip the scale, the straw to light the fire."

Just the straw to stand out from all the others? Did he want to be known as the pivot of this plot? Cazaril's lips screwed up in dismay.

"And you're a man of reputation," Palli went on persuasively.

Cazaril jerked. "No good one, surely...!"

"What, everyone knows of Royesse Iselle's clever secretary, the man who keeps his own counsel-and hers-the Bastion of Gotorget-utterly indifferent to wealth-"

"No, I'm not," Cazaril a.s.sured him earnestly. "I just dress badly. I quite like wealth."

"And possessing the Royesse's total confidence. And don't pretend a courtier's greed to me-with my own eyes I saw you turn down three rich roknari bribes to betray gotorget, the last while you were starving near to death, and I can produce living witnesses to back me."

"well, of course course I didn't-" I didn't-"

"your voice would be listened to in council, Caz!"

Cazaril sighed. "I...I'll think about it. I have nearer duties. Say that I'll speak in the sealed session if and only if you think my testimony would be truly needed. Temple internal politics are no business of mine." A twinge in his gut made him regret that word choice. I fear I am afflicted with the G.o.ddess's own internal politics, just now. I fear I am afflicted with the G.o.ddess's own internal politics, just now.

Palli's happy nod claimed this as a firmer a.s.sent than Cazaril quite wished. He rose, thanked Cazaril, and took his leave.

16.

Two afternoons later, Cazaril was sitting unguardedly at his worktable mending his pens when a page of the Zangre entered his antechamber and announced, "Here is Dedicat Rojeras, in obedience to the order of the Royesse Iselle, m'lord." was sitting unguardedly at his worktable mending his pens when a page of the Zangre entered his antechamber and announced, "Here is Dedicat Rojeras, in obedience to the order of the Royesse Iselle, m'lord."

Rojeras was a man of about forty, with sandy red hair receding a little from his forehead, freckles, and keen blue eyes. The man's trade was recognizable by the green robes of a lay dedicat of Cardegoss's Temple Hospital of the Mother's Mercy that swung at his brisk step, and his rank by the master's braid sewn over his shoulder. Cazaril knew at once that none of his ladies could be the quarry, or the Mother's Order would have sent a woman physician. He stiffened in alarm, but nodded politely. He rose and turned to convey the message to the inner chambers only to find Lady Betriz and the royesse already at the door, smiling unsurprised greetings to the man.

Betriz dropped a half curtsey in exchange for the dedicat's deep bow, and said, "This is the man I told you about, Royesse. The Mother's senior divine says he has made a special study of wasting diseases, and has apprentices who've traveled from all over Chalion to be taught by him!"

So, Lady Betriz's excursion to the temple yesterday had included more than prayers and charity offerings. Iselle had less to learn about court conspiracies than Cazaril had thought. She'd certainly smuggled this past him him smoothly enough. He was ambushed, and by his own ladies. He smiled tightly, swallowing his fear. The man had none of the luminous signs of second sight about him; what could he tell from Cazaril's mere body? smoothly enough. He was ambushed, and by his own ladies. He smiled tightly, swallowing his fear. The man had none of the luminous signs of second sight about him; what could he tell from Cazaril's mere body?

Iselle looked the physician over and nodded satisfaction. "Dedicat Rojeras, please examine my secretary and report back to me."

"Royesse, I don't need to see a physician!" And I most especially don't need a physician to see me And I most especially don't need a physician to see me.

"Then all we shall waste is a trifle of time," Iselle countered, "which the G.o.ds give us each day all the same. Upon pain of my displeasure, I order you to go with him, Cazaril." There was no mistaking the determination in her voice.

d.a.m.n Palli, for not only putting this into her head, but teaching her how to block his escape. Iselle was too quick a study. Still...the physician would either diagnose a miracle, or he would not. If he did, Cazaril could call for Umegat, and let the saint, with his undoubted high connections to the Temple, deal with it. And if not, what harm was in it?

Cazaril bowed obedient, if stiffly offended, a.s.sent, and led his unwelcome visitor downstairs to his bedchamber. Lady Betriz followed, to see that her royal mistress's orders were carried out. She offered him a quick apologetic smile, but her eyes were apprehensive as Cazaril closed his door upon her.

Shut in with Cazaril, the physician made him sit by the window while he felt his pulse and peered into his eyes, ears, and throat. He bade Cazaril make water, which he sniffed and studied in a gla.s.s tube held up to the light. He inquired after Cazaril's bowels, and Cazaril reluctantly admitted to the blood. Then Cazaril was required to undress and lie down, and suffer to have his heart and breathing listened to by the man's ear pressed to his chest, and be poked and prodded all over his body by the cool, quick fingers. Cazaril had to explain how he came by his flogging scars; Rojeras's comments upon them were limited to some hair-raising suggestions of how he might rid Cazaril of his remaining adhesions, should Cazaril desire it and gather the nerve. Withal, Cazaril thought he would prefer to wait and fall off another horse, and said so, which only made Rojeras chuckle.

Rojeras's smile faded as he returned to a more careful, and deeper, probing of Cazaril's belly, feeling and leaning this way and that. "Pain here?"

Cazaril, determined to pa.s.s this off, said firmly, "No."

"How about when I do this?"

Cazaril yelped.

"Ah. Some pain, then." More poking. More wincing. Rojeras paused for a time, his fingertips just resting on Cazaril's belly, his gaze abstracted. Then he seemed to shake himself awake. He reminded Cazaril of Umegat.

Rojeras still smiled as Cazaril dressed himself again, but his eyes were shadowed with thought.

Cazaril offered encouragingly, "Speak, Dedicat. I am a man of reason, and will not fall to pieces."

"Is it so? Good." Rojeras took a breath and said plainly, "My lord, you have a most palpable tumor."

"Is...that it," said Cazaril, gingerly seating himself again in his chair.