Fic: Twenty Roads Cazaril Did Not Take

[jeriendhal]

"Again, my lord?" the provincial divine of Palliar asked.

"Again," Palli told her, dropping a purse heavy with gold royas on the divine's desk. "The same as last season. Prayers every day, at each of the altars, for the soul of Lupe dy Cazaril."

The divine laid her fingers lightly on the silken purse for a moment, then removed them, her face thoughtful. "Not that I am adverse to accepting donations to the temple, my lord, but it has been nearly two years. Surely you've mourned enough."

Palli gave her an uncharacteristic frown. "I don't do it to mourn, but in penance for losing track of him in the confusion of the handover at Gortoget. Damn the Roknari. I don't know if he really did die of a fever or he was simply murdered by them in violation of the parley and vengeance for all pain we cost them. That bag of gold is little enough payment for my sins. If I had been more careful, stuck closer to him, Caz might be alive still." He gave the divine a short bow and took his leave. "Good Daughter's Eve to you."

The divine returned the blessing, finally took the bag in her hand and rose to bring it to the temple exchequer. Palli left her to it, striding across the temple courtyard and ducking around the line of beggars queuing up to receive bread and bowls of soup from the acolytes of the Bastard. Some might have called him spendthrift for making such a large private donation to the temple when tomorrow he'd be dropping an even heavier bag of gold at the Daughter's Day celebration on the behalf of his House, but he didn't mind. Palli had grown to known deprivation well during the long siege of Gortoget, when his men had quarreled and even openly fought for the castle rats to eat. If he had enough gold now to make sure the wretches in the queue got more proper meat in their own dinners, it was a roya well spent.

Distracted by his thoughts, he didn't seen the hunched over figure of one beggar near the end of line, bumping hard into him and sending the poor fellow sprawling. "Oh, I'm sorry!" Palli exclaimed, grabbing the man's arm to help him up.

He caught a glimpse of a lined, heavily bearded face, before the man ducked his head back down again and tugged the hood of cloak over it, murmuring in a gruff voice, "The fault was mine, milord."

"Hardly that," Palli said, digging into his purse for a silver coin. When he attempted to press it into the beggar's hand, the man actually shied away. "I say, what's the matter?" he demanded.

"You needn't waste your coin on me, milord," the beggar said. He actually turned his back to Palli, shuffling out of the line towards the temple gate.

"Now see here, old man," Palli called out. He strode forward, overtaking the beggar in three long strides to block his path and lay his hands on the man's shoulders. "There's no shame in accepting a little… Caz?"

Stopped short by Palli, the beggar's hood had fallen back, to reveal the worn, bearded face of the Castillar dy Cazaril. Caz stared back at him, his face growing bright red in embarrassment. "I... I'm afraid... you are mistaken, milord," he mumbled, and tried without success to twist out Palli's grip.

"Bastard's demons have my soul if I am. It is you, isn't it?" Palli exclaimed. "Caz, where have you been?"

Cazaril glanced at the curious faces of the other beggars and the temple acolytes, who staring in curiosity at the scene unfolding in the courtyard. "Not here, Palli, I beg you," he said softly.

"Of course, old friend," Palli said. Taking Caz by the arm, for the man looked about ready to bolt, he guided him back into the temple to a much more private meeting room. "Caz, where have you been?" he repeated. "I thought you were dead! The Roknari said you died of a fever."

"The Rocknari did?" Cazaril asked softly.

"Well, that's what Martou dy Jorinal said at any rate." Palli gave Caz a penetrating look. "Obviously he was misinformed. Caz, what happened, tell me truthfully."

"There was a... mixup... when the ransoms were paid out," Cazaril said, hunching over in his chair. "My name wasn't on the list to be freed. So I was sold to a Rocknari galley, where I remained... for quite a while. Eventually we were run down by a ship of the Ibran navy and were freed. After I spent.... a time... at the hospital of the Mother in Zagosur, I was well enough to be on my way. I walked for about three.... yes... three weeks, and only arrived here in Palliar two days ago." Something in Palli's expression must have given him pause, for he said hastily. "I... I didn't know where else to go!"

"Caz," Palli said, after taking in a deep breath to calm himself. His friend's story seemed to have some very large gaps in its telling, which he'd have badger the poor man about later, but for now he would only concern himself with the most important thing. "Caz," he said again, "you've been in Palliar for two days and you didn't come to see me first?"

Cazaril shrank back in his seat. "I... I... had come here, with every intention to ask... for a place in your house. Something... minor. I... I can't do much at the moment, I'll admit."

"Then why, Five Gods be praised, didn't you!"

Cazaril waved a crooked hand down his castoff and dirty clothes. "Palli, look at me. Would you want a beggar in your house?"

Palli leaned forward to grip Caz's hands. "No," he said firmly, "but I will welcome my friend." Then he kissed them.

Comments

[moonshadowed.livejournal.com]

As you know I don't know the original story that well, hon... but I have to say, this is well written!