The Curse of Chalion - Lois McMaster Bujold [158]
“Bastard’s demons, Caz! What is all this about?”
“Which what?” asked Cazaril in some confusion.
Palli lit another brace of candles on Cazaril’s washstand and whirled about. “Pray for guidance, you said. In my sleep, if you please. I was killed five times in my dreams last night, I’ll have you know. Riding somewhere. Each time more horribly. In the last dream, my horses ate me. I don’t want to put my leg across anything, horse, mule, or sawhorse, for a week at least!”
“Oh.” Cazaril blinked, taking this in. It seemed clear enough. “In that case, I don’t want you to ride anywhere.”
“That’s a relief.”
“I must go myself.”
“Go where? In this weather? It’s snowing now, you know.”
“Ah, it wanted only that. Hasn’t anyone told you yet? Royse Teidez died about midnight last night, of his infected wound.”
Palli’s face abruptly sobered; his mouth formed a silent “O.” “That changes things in Chalion.”
“Indeed. Let me dress, and then come upstairs with me.” Hastily, Cazaril splashed chill water on his face and shrugged into yesterday’s clothes.
In the chambers above, Cazaril found Betriz also still dressed in last night’s black-and-lavender court mourning. It was plain she had not yet slept. Cazaril drew the dy Gura brothers out of sight of the corridor and closed them in his office antechamber. He and Palli entered the sitting room.
Betriz’s hand touched a sealed packet waiting on a small table. “All the letters are ready to go to”—she glanced at Palli and hesitated—“Valenda.”
“Is Iselle asleep?” Cazaril asked quietly.
“Resting only. She’ll want to see you. Both.” Betriz disappeared into the bedchambers for a moment, from which floated low murmuring, then returned with a pair of books under her arm.
“I sneaked down to the roya’s library and found two identical volumes. There weren’t many true duplicates. I thought I’d better take the biggest, so as to have more words to choose from.”
“Good,” said Cazaril, and took one from her. He glanced at it, and choked back a black laugh. Ordol, read the gold letters on the spine. The Fivefold Pathway. “Perfect. I need to brush up on my theology.” He laid it down with the packet of letters.
Iselle emerged, wrapped in a heavy blue velvet dressing gown from which the white lace of her nightgown peeped. Her amber hair cascaded down across her shoulders. Her face was as pale and puffy with lack of sleep as Betriz’s. She nodded to Cazaril and to Palli. “My lord dy Palliar. Thank you for coming to my aid.”
“I, uh…” said Palli. He cast a rather desperate glance at Cazaril, What am I agreeing to?
“Will he ride for you?” Betriz asked Cazaril anxiously. “You should not attempt this, you know you should not.”
“Ah…no. Palli, instead I’m asking you to swear service and protection to the Royesse Iselle, personally, in the names of the gods, and especially the Lady of Spring. There is no treason in this; she is the rightful Heiress of Chalion. And you will thus have the honor of being the first of her courtiers to do so.”
“I, I, I…I can swear my fealty in addition to what I have sworn to your brother Orico, lady. I cannot swear to you instead of to him.”
“I do not ask for your service before what you give to Orico. I only ask for your service before what you give to Orico’s chancellor.”
“Now, that I can do,” said Palli, brightening. “And with a will.” He kissed Iselle’s forehead, hands, and slippers, and, still kneeling before her skirts, swore the oaths of a lord of Chalion, witnessed by Betriz and Cazaril. He added, still on his knees, “What would you think, Royesse, of Lord dy Yarrin as the next holy general of the Daughter’s Order?”
“I think…such great preferences are not yet mine to give. But he would certainly be more acceptable to me than any candidate from dy Jironal’s clan.”
Palli nodded slow approval of her measured words and rose