Lois Bujold - The Curse of Chalion

Musicians and dancers stopped for breath after a brisk roundel, and Cazaril joined the smattering of applause led by the royina from behind her screen. A completely unexpected voice spoke next to his ear.

"Well, Castillar. You're looking more your old self!"

"Palli!" Cazaril controlled his surge forward, turning it into a sweeping bow instead. Palli, formally dressed in the blue trousers and tunic and white tabard of the Daughter's military order, boots polished and sword glittering at his waist, laughed and returned an equally ceremonious bow, though he followed it up with a firm, if brief, grip of Cazaril's hands. "What brings you to Cardegoss?" Cazaril asked eagerly.

"Justice, by the goddess! And a good job of it, too, a year in the making. I rode up in support of the lord dedicat the provincar dy Yarrin, on a little holy quest of his. I'll tell you more, but, ah"—Palli glanced around the crowded chamber, where the dancers were forming up again—"maybe not here. You seem to have survived your trip to court—you're over that little burst of nerves now, I trust?"

Cazaril's lips twisted. "So far. I'll tell you more, but—not here." A glance around assured him neither Lord Dondo nor his elder brother were present at the moment, though some half dozen men he knew to be their creatures were just as certain to report this meeting and greeting. So be it. "Let us find a cooler spot, then."

They strolled out casually together into the next chamber, and Cazaril led Palli to a window embrasure that overlooked a moonlit courtyard. On the courtyard's far side, a couple sat closely together, but Cazaril judged them out of both earshot and caring.

"So what is old dy Yarrin about that brings him hot to court?" asked Cazaril curiously. The provincar of Yarrin was the highest-ranking lord of Chalion to have chosen allegiance to the holy military order of the Daughter. Most young men with military leanings dedicated themselves to the far more glamorous Order of the Son, with its glorious tradition of battle against the Roknari invaders. Even Cazaril had sworn himself a lay dedicat to the Son, in his youth—and unsworn himself, when... let it go . The far smaller holy military order of the Daughter concerned itself with more domestic challenges, guarding the temples, patrolling the roads to the pilgrimage shrines; by extension, controlling banditry, pursuing horse and cattle thieves, assisting in the capture of murderers. Granted, what the goddess's soldiers lacked in numbers they frequently made up in romantic dedication to her. Palli was a natural, Cazaril thought with a grin, and had surely found his calling at last.

" Spring cleaning." Palli smiled like one of Umegat's sand foxes for a moment. "A smelly little mess inside the temple walls is going to get washed out at last. Dy Yarrin had suspected for some time that, with the old general sick and dying for so long, the order's comptroller here in Cardegoss was filtering the order's funds as they flowed through his fingers." Palli wiggled his, in illustration. "Into his personal purse."

Cazaril grunted. "Unfortunate."

Palli cocked an eyebrow at him. "This doesn't take you by surprise?"

Cazaril shrugged. "Not in the main. Such things happen now and then, when men are tempted beyond their strength. I'd not heard anything specific said against the Daughter's comptroller though, no, beyond the usual slanders against every official in Cardegoss, be he honest or not, that every fool repeats."

Palli nodded. "Dy Yarrin's been over a year, quietly collecting the evidence and the witnesses. We took the comptroller—and his books—by surprise about two hours ago. He's locked down now in the Daughter's house's own cellar, under guard. Dy Yarrin will present the whole case to the order's council tomorrow morning. The comptroller will be stripped of his post and rank by tomorrow afternoon and delivered to the Chancellery of Cardegoss for punishment by tomorrow night. Ha!" His fist closed in anticipated triumph.

"Well done! Will you stay on, after that?"

"I hope to stay a week or two, for the hunting."

"Oh, excellent!" Time to talk, and a man of wit and certain honor to talk with—double luxury.

"I'm lodging in town at Yarrin Palace—I can't linger long here tonight, though. I just came up to the Zangre with dy Yarrin while he made his bow—and his report—to Roya Orico and General Lord Dondo dy Jironal." Palli paused. "I take it by your very healthy appearance that your worries about the Jironals turned out to be groundless?"

Cazaril fell silent. The breeze through the embrasure was growing chill. Even the lovers across the courtyard had gone in. He finally said, "I take care not to cross either of the Jironals. In any way."

Palli frowned, and seemed to hold some speech jostling just behind his lips.

A pair of servants wheeled a cart holding a crock of hot mulled wine, redolent of spices and sugar, through the antechamber toward the dancing chamber. A giggling young lady exited, closely pursued by a laughing young courtier; they both vanished out the other side, though their blended laughter lingered in the air. Strains of music sounded again, floating down from the gallery like flowers.

Palli's frown quirked away. "Did Lady Betriz dy Ferrej also accompany Royesse Iselle from Valenda?"

"Didn't you see her, among the dancers?"

"No—I saw you first, long stick that you are, propping up the walls. When I'd heard the royesse was here, I came looking in the chance you would be, too, though from the way you talked when last we met I couldn't be sure I'd find you. Do you think I might seize a dance before dy Yarrin is done closeting himself with Orico?"

"If you think you have the strength to fight your way through the mob that surrounds her, perhaps," said Cazaril dryly, waving him on. "They usually defeat me."

Palli managed this without apparent effort, and soon was handing a surprised and laughing Betriz in and out of the figures with cheery panache. He took a turn with Royesse Iselle as well. Both ladies seemed delighted to meet him again. Drawing breath afterward, he was greeted by some four or five other lords he apparently knew, until a page approached and touched him on the elbow, and murmured some message in his ear. Palli made his bows and left, presumably to join his fellow lord dedicat dy Yarrin and escort him back to his mansion.

Cazaril hoped the Daughter's new holy general, Lord Dondo dy Jironal, would be glad and grateful to have his house cleaned for him tomorrow. He hoped it fervently.

Cazaril spent the following day in smiling anticipation of the delight Palli's visit to court would bring to his routine. Betriz and Iselle also spoke in praise of the young march, which gave Cazaril brief pause. Palli would show to his best in this splendid setting.

And what of it? Palli was a landed man, with money, looks, charm, honorable responsibilities. Suppose he and the Lady Betriz were to hit it off. Was either of them less than what the other deserved? Nevertheless, Cazaril found his mind, unwilled, revolving plans for pleasures with Palli that somehow did not include his ladies.

But to his disappointment, Palli did not appear at court that evening—nor did the provincar of Yarrin. Cazaril supposed their wearing day of presenting evidence at the Daughter's house to whatever committee of justice had assembled there had run into complexities, and stretched past dinner. If the case took longer than Palli's first optimistic estimate, well, it would at least extend his visit to Cardegoss.

He did not see Palli again until the next morning, when the march appeared abruptly at the open door of Cazaril's office, which was an antechamber to the succession of rooms occupied by Royesse Iselle and her ladies. Cazaril stared up from his writing desk in surprise. Palli had discarded his court attire, and was dressed for the road in well-worn tall boots, thick tunic, and a short cloak for riding.