The Curse of Chalion - Lois McMaster Bujold [215]
Iselle smiled from the foot of his bed. “Much has happened,” she told him, her voice reverting to its normal firm timbre. “Dy Jironal had men advancing as fast as they could march from both his son-in-law in Thistan and from Valenda, to follow up in support of his spies and abductors got in at the festival. Late last night the column coming down the road from Valenda met the delegation carrying our letter to Orico in Cardegoss, and captured them.”
“Alive, yes?” said Cazaril in alarm.
“There was some scuffle, but none killed, thank the gods. Much debate followed in their camp.”
Well, he had sent the most sensible, persuasive men of weight and worth that Taryoon could muster for that embassy.
“Later in the afternoon, we sent out parties of parley. We included some of dy Jironal’s men who had witnessed the fight in the courtyard, and…and whatever that miraculous blue fire was that killed him, to explain and to testify. They cried and gibbered a lot, but they were very convincing. Cazaril, what really—oh, and they say Orico is dead.”
Cazaril sighed. I knew that. “When?”
The archdivine of Taryoon replied, “There’s some confusion about that. A Temple courier rode through to us this afternoon with the news. She bore me a letter from Archdivine Mendenal in Cardegoss saying it was the night after the royesse’s—the royina’s wedding. But dy Jironal’s men all say he told them Orico had died the night before it, and so he was now rightful regent of Chalion. I suppose he was lying. I’m not sure it matters, now.”
But it might have mattered, had events taken a different path…Cazaril frowned in curious speculation.
“In any case,” put in Bergon, “between the news of dy Jironal’s startling taking-off, and the failure and capture of their infiltrators, and the realization that they marched not against a rebellious Heiress, but their rightful royina, the columns have broken up. The men are returning to their homes. I’m just back from overseeing that.” Indeed, he was mud-splashed, bright-eyed with the exuberance of success—and relief.
“Do you think the truce will hold?” asked Cazaril. “Dy Jironal held the strings of a very considerable network of power and relations, all of whom still have their interests at risk.”
Palli grunted, and shook his head. “They have not the backing of forces from the Order of the Son, now it’s headless—worse, they’ve the near certainty that control of the order will pass out of their faction now. I think the Jironal clan will learn caution.”
“The provincar of Thistan has already sent us a letter of submission,” put in Iselle, “just arrived. It looks to have been hastily penned. We plan to wait one more day to be sure the roads are clear, and to give thanks to the gods in the temple of Taryoon. Then Bergon and I will ride for Cardegoss with a contingent of my uncle’s cavalry, for Orico’s funeral and my coronation.” Her mouth turned down. “I fear we will have to leave you here for a time, Lord Caz.”
He glanced at Betriz, watching him, her eyes dark with concern. Where Iselle rode, Betriz, her first courtier, must needs follow.
Iselle went on, “Don’t speak if it pains you too much, but Cazaril…what happened in the courtyard? Did the Daughter truly strike dy Jironal dead with a bolt of lightning?”
“His body looked it, I must say,” said Bergon. “All cooked. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“That is a good story,” said Cazaril slowly, “and will do for most men. You here should know the truth, but…I think this truth should go no further, eh?”
Iselle quietly bade the physician excuse himself. She glanced curiously at the little judge. “And this gentleman, Cazaril?”
“The Honorable Paginine is…is in the way of being a colleague of mine. He should stay, and the archdivine as well.”
Cazaril found his audience ranged around his bed, staring at him rather breathlessly. Neither Paginine nor the archdivine, nor Palli, knew the preamble about Dondo and the death demon, Cazaril realized, and so he found himself compelled to revert to that beginning, though in as few words as he could make come