The Curse of Chalion

"Not... hunting exactly. In a way it was..." Cazaril licked his lips, chapped with the cold. "Lady, do you see anything odd about me?"

"I see only with my eyes, now. I've been blind for years, you see. You see?"

Her emphasis made her meaning very plain, Cazaril thought. "Yes."

She nodded and sat back. "I thought so. There is a look about one who sees with those eyes."

A trembling attendant crept up to Ista, and said in an overly light voice, "Lady, perhaps you should come away to bed, now. Your lady mother will surely be back soon..." She shot Cazaril a meaningful look over her shoulder; clearly, the woman thought Ista was going into one of her mad fugues. Into what everyone thought was one of her fugues. Had Ista ever been mad?

Cazaril sat back on his heels. "Please leave us now. I must have some private speech with the royina on matters of some urgency."

"Sir, my lord..." The woman managed a false smile, and whispered in his ear, "We dare not leave her in this stricken hour—she might do herself some harm."

Cazaril climbed to his full height, and took both ladies by the arms, and steered them gently but inexorably out the door. "I will undertake to guard her. Here, you may wait in this chamber across the hall, and if I need you, I will call out, all right?" He shut both doors upon their protests.

Ista waited unmoving, but for her hands. She held a fine lace handkerchief, which she commenced to folding, over and over, into smaller and smaller squares. Cazaril grunted down to sit cross-legged on the floor at her feet and stare up into that wide-eyed, chalky face.

"I have seen the Zangre's ghosts," he said.

"Yes."

"More. I have seen the dark cloud that hangs over your House. The Golden General's curse, the bane of Fonsa's heirs."

"Yes."

"You know of it, then?"

"Oh, yes."

"It hangs about you now."

"Yes."

"It hung about Orico, and Sara. Iselle—and Teidez."

"Yes." She tilted her head and stared away.

Cazaril thought about a state of shock he had seen sometimes come upon men in battle, between the moment a blow fell, and the time their bodies fell; men who should have been unconscious, should have been dead, staggering about yet for a time, accomplishing, sometimes, extraordinary acts. Was this quiet coherence such a shock, soon to melt—should he seize it? Or had Ista ever really been incoherent? Or did we just not understand her?

"Orico has become very ill. How I came by my second sight is all of a piece with this black tangle. But please, please, lady, tell me how you came to know. What did you see, and when, and how? I must understand. Because I think—I fear—it has been given to me, it has fallen to me, to act. Yet nothing has told me what that action must be. Even second sight cannot pierce this dark."

Her brows went up. "I can tell you truths. I cannot give you understanding. For how can one give what one does not possess? I have always told the truth."

"Yes. I see that now." He took a daring breath. "But have you ever told all of it?"

She sucked on her lower lip a moment, studying him. Her trembling hands, seeming to belong to some other Ista than the one of this carven face, began unfolding the tight knot of the handkerchief again upon her knee. Slowly, she nodded. Her voice was so low, Cazaril had to tilt his head to be sure of catching all her words.

"It began when I became pregnant with Iselle. The visions. The second sight came and went. I thought it was an effect of my pregnancy—bearing turns some women's brains. The physicians convinced me of that, for a time. I saw the blind ghosts drifting. I saw the dark cloud hanging upon Ias, and young Orico. I heard voices. I dreamed of the gods, of the Golden General, of Fonsa and his two faithful companions burning in his tower. Of Chalion burning like the tower.

"After Iselle was born, the visions ceased. I thought I had been mad, and then got well again."

The eye could not see itself, not even the inner eye. He had been granted Umegat, been granted knowledge bought at others' cost and handed to him as a gift. How frightened would he be by now, if he were still groping for explanations of the inexplicable?

"Then I became pregnant again, with Teidez. And the visions began again, twice as bad as before. It was unbearable to think myself mad. Only when I threatened to kill myself did Ias confess to me that it was the curse, and that he knew it. Had always known of it."

And how betrayed, to find that those who'd known the truth hadn't told him, had left him to stagger about in isolated terror?

"I was horrified that I had brought my two children into this dire danger. I prayed and prayed to the gods that it might be lifted, or that they would tell me how it might be lifted, that they would spare the innocent.