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one!
Iselle s gray eyes brightened, and her pale cheeks flooded with color.
Iselle held out her hands.  My lord Bergon dy Ibra, she said in a voice that
only quavered a little.
 Welcome to Chalion.
 My lady Iselle dy Chalion, Bergon, striding up to her, returned
breathlessly.  Dy Ibra thanks you. He knelt to one knee, and kissed her
hands. She bent her head, and kissed his.
Bergon rose again and introduced his companions, who bowed properly. With a
slight scrape, the provincar and the archdivine, with their own hands, brought
up a chair for Bergon and set it by Iselle s on the other side from Cazaril.
From a leather pouch dy Tagille held out, Bergon produced his royal
greeting-gift, a necklace of fine emeralds one of the last of his mother s
pieces not pawned by the Fox to buy arms. The white horses unfortunately were
still back on the road somewhere. Bergon had been going to bring a rope of new
Ibran pearls, but had made the substitution on Cazaril s most earnest advice.
Dy Baocia made a little speech of welcome, which would have been rather longer
if Iselle s aunt, catching her niece s eye, had not seized a pause in his
periods to invite the assembled company into the next room to partake of
refreshments. The young couple was left to have some private speech, and bent
their heads together, largely inaudible to the eager eavesdroppers who
lingered by the open doors and frequently peeked in to see how they were
getting along.
Cazaril was not least forward among this number, craning his neck anxiously
from his repositioned chair and alternating between nibbling on little cakes
and biting his knuckles. Their voices grew sometimes louder, sometimes softer;
Bergon gestured, and Iselle twice laughed out loud, and three times drew in
her breath, her hands going to her lips, eyes widening. Iselle lowered her
voice and spoke earnestly; Bergon tilted his head and listened intently, and
never took his eyes from her face, except twice to glance out at Cazaril,
after which they lowered their voices still further.
Lady Betriz brought him a glass of watered wine, nodding at his grateful
thanks. Cazaril felt he could guess who had taken the thought to have the hot
water and servants and food and clothes waiting ready for him. Her fresh skin
glowed golden in the candlelight, smooth and youthful, but her somber dress
and pulled-back hair lent her an unexpectedly mature elegance. An ardent
energy, on the verge of moving into power and wisdom . . .
 How did you leave things in Valenda, do you think? Cazaril asked her.
Her smile sobered.  Tense. But we hope with Iselle drawn out, it will grow
less so. Surely dy
Jironal will not dare offer violence to the widow and mother-in-law of Roya
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Ias?
 Mm, not as his first move. In desperation, anything becomes possible.
 That s true. Or at least, people stop arguing with you about what s possible
and what s not.
Cazaril considered the young women s wild night ride that had flipped their
tactical situation so abruptly topside-to.  How did you get away?
 Well, dy Jironal had apparently expected us all to cower in the castle,
intimidated by his show of arms. You can imagine how that sat with the old
Provincara. His women spies watched Iselle all the time, but not me. I took
Nan and we went about the town, doing little domestic errands for the
household, and observing. His men s defenses all faced outward, prepared to
repel would-be rescuers.
And no one could keep us from going to the temple, where Lord dy Palliar
stayed, to pray for Orico s health. Her smile dimpled.  We became very pious,
for a time. The dimple faded.  Then the
Provincara got word, I don t know through what source, that the chancellor had
dispatched his younger
son with a troop of his House cavalry to secure Iselle and bring her in haste
back to Cardegoss, because
Orico was dying. Which may be true, for all we know, but all the better reason
not to place herself in dy
Jironal s hands. So escape became urgent, and it was done.
Palli had drifted over to listen; dy Baocia strolled up to join them.
Cazaril gave dy Baocia a nod.  Your lady mother wrote me of promises of
support from your fellow provincars. Have you gained any more assurances? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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