"Content at Last'
'If you ever loved me, Palli, say nothing of me!'
Could he really think that? How could he believe that I never cared for him? The honored Castillar Lupe dy Cazaril, castle-warder, commander, friend...From the moment they had met, this man had been the center of my life. Cazaril had been the only reason I had lived in the horrible months of Gotorget, the only reason I didn't loose hope through those long days and longer nights. I have loved him for too many years, and when the news of his death came to us, I thought I too would die.
Now, to see him alive...I thought my heart would burst when I heard he was here. It was foolish of me to tackle him so, and yet he was pleased to see me. Even now, with his abused body and aching muscles, he embraced me tightly; that strength had not faded, despite the trials of his life. I had feared him to be damned to invalidity, or worse-to have been brutally misused by his captors. Relieved though I was that my fears had been of the Darthacan fleet and not of the Roknair, I still feel as though he barley escaped such horrors. That is good; I do not have time to go hunt down all the Roknari fleet captains, which would be my only course of action should they have done such things to him.
And then, he seemed mad. I feared him mad, feared that the Roknari had stolen that frightful intellect that had so defined him. To my shame, I agreed to keep his secret solely so that others might not know how far he had fallen. It made me ache as I rode to Cardegross, and my mind was not wear it should have been. On arrival I tried to bury my grief and disappointment in something useful, and threw my lot in with dy Yarrin.
Imagine my shock and relief-and immense guilt- when Dondo threw out the case, and Caz's fears were proven perfectly sound. The Jironels were dangerous, and if they thought Caz was any trouble they'd kill him. Not outright, but they'd try. Though I had to leave, a small piece of my heart -and most of my thoughts- stayed in Cardegross with him. At every oppurtunity I looked for a way to help him, some way that would be able to use the wrongs done to him to take done Dondo and Martou. The conclave would give me the answer, though I did not know then that my Beloved Cazaril was already on the trail to a more...demonstrative way of bringing down the horrid clingers-on.
He fought alone for so long, dying of a tumor in his gut, before I found out. He didn't tell me, didn't want to worry me when I had so many things to handle with dy Yarrin. I wish I could have told him that I would drop anything, everything, to help him. To be at his side once more. He trusted me to stand by Iselle and Beatriz, trusted my judgment enough to relinquish his charges into my care when he went off to save the day in far away Ibra. I knew he would return with Royse Bergon; Caz could do anything. Sending Ferdy and Fyoux with him was just a way of making sure he returned in one piece.
When Martou dy Jironel killed him, I died again. My world crashed down for the moment between hearing the news that he'd been transfixed on the sword, and then being told that he still lived. I doubt he saw me, with Iselle, Beatriz and Bergon to tend on him, but I was watching. I wouldn't lose him again. They carried him off, and he collapsed, and hours later I did as well, pillows stained with my tears as he refused to regain consciousness.
For three days I waited, and finally he awoke. HE loved Betriz, I knew he did, but that didn't matter. I could love him from afar, so long as he was happy. So long as he was a live. The curse was removed, and I watched in joy as he was made Chancellor- no one deserved it more. There was less joy for me when he wed Betriz, but only just. He was happy, and he asked me to stand by his side at the ceremony. How could I refuse? I loved him after all, and had been his best man at Gotorget, which had led to this. It was only proper I stood there again.
Now, standing here as he and the lovely Betriz dy Cazaril leave for their chambers, I am happy. Caz is happy- and alive. Chalion is safe. And the March of Palliar rides home, content at last.