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July 11 - July 13, 2020
steel pierced silk brocade and skin and muscle and drove through Cazaril’s gut, and Cazaril was nearly jerked off his feet with the force of it. Sound ceased. The sword was sliding through him as slowly as a pearl dropped in honey, and as painlessly. Dy Jironal’s red face was frozen in a rictus of rage. On either side of Cazaril, his captors bent and leaned away, mouths creeping open on startled cries that never emerged. With a yowl of triumph that only Cazaril heard, the death demon coursed up the sword blade, leaving it red-hot in its wake, and into dy Jironal’s hand. With a scream of
...more
dy Journal stabs Caz in the belly, releasing both Dondo and the Death Demon to travel up dy Journal's sword into him
Three deaths and a demon all bound together.
Three deaths and a demon bound together
Cazaril’s mind exploded.
Caz's mind exploded
But not the realm of matter. This was a landscape of soul-stuff;
And all the world’s cries of pain and woe. And shame and joy. And hope and despair and aspiration…A thousand thousand moments from a thousand thousand lives poured through his distending spirit.
A thousand cries of woe and joy
Cazaril melted, and was cupped in Her hands. He thought She drank him, siphoning him out of the violent concatenation of the dy Jironal brothers and the demon, who shot away elsewhere.
Her Lady cupped and drank him out of the violent joining of the brothers, who were sent elsewhere
Dy Jironal’s sword blade was just emerging from his back. Blood bloomed around the metal point like a rose. And now to work, the Lady whispered. Open to me, sweet Cazaril.
dy Journal's sword blade was emerging from Caz's back, as Her Lady called Caz to open to her
He sank back in a languid ease, as the goddess flowed through him into the world.
He watched as the Goddess flowed through him to the world
Dy Jironal’s corpse had not yet finished falling to the pavement, although his dead hand had spasmed from his sword hilt.
Dy Journal's corpse was falling to ground, his hand already releasing the sword pummel
The goddess drew the curse of Chalion like thick black wool into Her hands. Lifting it from Iselle and Bergon, somewhere in the streets of Taryoon.
Goddess drew the curse of Chalion from Iesse and Bergon as they ran through the streets
From Sara in Cardegoss. From all the land of Chalion, mountain to mountain, river to plain. Cazaril could not sense Orico in the dark fog.
From Ista and.Sara too, through it wasn't clear about Orico
Another Presence, solemn and gray, waited there, and took it up. And took it in. And sighed in something like relief, or completion, or balance. I think it was the blood of a god. Spilled, soiled, drawn up again, cleaned, and returned at last… I don’t understand. Was Ista mistaken? Did I miscount my deaths? The goddess laughed. Think it through…
Was i mistaken: did I miscount my deaths?
THE CRACK OF THE STONE PAVEMENT HITTING HIS knees was his first returning sensation. Desperately, he held himself upright, sitting on his heels, so as not to wrench the sword blade around in his flesh.
Caz wakes with sword piercing his body, but Dy Journal's smoking carcass in front of him
“When he stabbed you, there was a hellish crack, and he burst into blue fire. He is…what did…did the gods strike him down?”
When he stabbed you, did the gods strike him down?
his flogging on the galley, that had been. He had not miscounted—that death had not been for the House of Chalion at the time. But it had become so, with Iselle’s marriage to Bergon and its consummation; the joining of two into one, that had shared the curse so horrifyingly between them, had apparently also portioned out this sacrifice. Bergon’s secret dowry, eh.
The flogging on the galley was the uncounted first death--a marriage dowry for Bergon
acceptance, of death of the soul, had been in the lonely company of crows in Fonsa’s tower.
Acceptance of death of the soul was the second death: black magic sacrifice in tower
“There you are,” he said happily. His voice was a muzzy croak. “Kiss me now.” She gulped, knelt, shuffled up to him on her knees, and stretched her neck. Her lips were warm.
There you are; kiss me now
“You can draw the sword out now.”
You can draw the sword out
He stared down expecting to see his lap awash in blood, but no flood of red met his sight; it was a clear liquid, merely tinged with pink. Sword must have lanced my tumor. Which was not, it appeared,
Sword.removed: he.expected to see a flow of red blood, but there only was a trickle of clear, pink liquid. Sword must have lanced the tumor
Cazaril, what really—oh, and they say Orico is dead.”
They say Orico is dead
“Oh, yes. Just for a little while…for an odd angle of little that came out, um, very large. If I had not died in truth, I could not have ripped open the wall between the worlds, and the goddess could not have reached in to take back the curse. Which was a drop of the Father’s blood, as nearly as I could tell, though how the Golden General came by such a gift I know not.
I had to die, to go to the other world, and bring back a drop of the Golden General's blood
“But the black cloak about Iselle and Bergon, it is gone as well, yes?” “Yes, my lord. Royse, Royina, if it please you. The shadow seems to be lifted altogether.”
The black cloak is lifted and Caz loses his second sight
Lord Caz—do you love the Lady Betriz?” Cazaril blinked. “I…she…very fond, Royse.”
Doy you love Betriz, Lord Caz
Uh, very fond…
are you willing to be shaved?”
Willing To be shaved?
“Five gods, Cazaril! Once you’re fetched out from behind that gray hedge, you’re not so old after all!”
The royal couple has Caz shaved and betrothed to Betriz
“My best-beloved and most loyal lady Betriz dy Ferrej has begged a boon of me, which I grant with all the gladness of my heart. And as you have no father now, Lord Cazaril, Bergon and I shall take his place as your liege lords. She has asked for your hand. As it pleases Us greatly that Our two most beloved servants should also love each other, be you betrothed with Our goodwill.”
Betriz begged the boon of marriage with Caz
have no lands, no money. How can I support a wife?” “I plan to make the chancellorship a salaried position,” said Iselle. “As
But I have no lands, no money; how can I support a wife
“Of course it’s you, who did you think I should appoint? Surely that went without saying! The duty must be yours.” Cazaril sat down heavily in his late barber chair, still not releasing his clutch on Betriz’s hand. “Right now?” he said faintly. Her chin came up. “No, no, of course not! Tonight we feast. Tomorrow will do.”
Iesse appoints Caz as Chancellor
"Today?"
"You can start tomorrow"
Cazaril snaked his arm around Betriz’s waist and pulled her, ruthlessly and not at all shyly, down upon his lap. She squeaked in surprise. “Lips, eh?” he murmured, and fastened his to hers. Pausing for breath some time later, she pulled her head back and happily rubbed her chin, then his. “And now your kisses do not make me itch!”
Caz pulls Beatriz down for a kiss
Now your kisses don't scratch
“It’s a fine conceit, “ said Umegat. “The author follows a group of travelers to a pilgrimage shrine, and has each one tell his or her tale in turn. Very, ah, holy.”
A lay reader is "punished" and has to read Canterbury Tales to Umegat
When the souls rise up in glory, yours shall not be shunned nor sundered, but shall be the prize of the gods’ gardens. Even your darkness shall be treasured then, and all your pain made holy.”
Prophecy: when the soul rises up, yours shall not be shunned or sundered
“You do that very well, Cazaril, for a man who claims to be an amateur.”
