Derelict

Clothed With Despair

Chapter Twenty Nine

Rison sat on the stone steps that had borne witness to the earlier charade, the so-called trial of Caddo. Spots of blood bearing testament to her betrayal and failure dotted the ancient limestone. She wiped the tears from her face, muttering under her breath all the while. The anger she felt toward Rusk and Kemp had long ago dissipated only to be replaced with shame and self-loathing, eating at her like a cancer and threatening to drag her deep into despair.

Guilt weighed heavy and she knew she would suffocate under its burden.

Unless...

No! There is nothing to be done. I betrayed him, just as he knew I would. Somehow... somehow he knew.

Unless...

No! He would reject me for my betrayal, for my doubt. And I could not blame him.

All true. Every word. Unless...

No! He will hate me and I deserve his hatred.

Again, all true. Unless...

She paused. Thinking. Remembering.

Caddo was always so much more than what he appeared. A sense of mystery and knowledge followed him like a faithful dog. It was hidden, arcane knowledge. He was always thinking, he always had a plan. It amazed her that she had never seem him act in rashness or in panic. He bent people and events to his will as if his unseen hand controlled all things.

On the other hand, her spontaneity and occasional lack of thinking things through had earned his ire more than once over the years. He had taught her the world was a dangerous place, a place where you always looked behind the door. You always checked for tracks. You always listened for unexpected noises. Why? Because no one would do it for you.

He had once told her, "Use your head for something other than a place to store your ears."

In spite of her misery, she smiled at the distant memory. Use your head. It was so very long ago and his voice sounded so faint.

Use your head.

She reached down and touched the blood on the stone, now darkened and sticky. It was the blood of Caddo, blood that was shed because she had acted the fool. Because she doubted. And that thought sickened her because he had never once given her any real reason to doubt. She looked at her hands, calloused and scarred and smeared with Caddo's blood and knew it would never come off. She was forever stained by his blood. It was a fact and she would live with that knowledge for the rest of her days.

Use your head.

It was then she realized there was a choice. And there was always a choice. Caddo had showed her that long ago. There was always another way.

So here she sat. She could continue to wallow in self-pity, mired in disgust and clothed with despair.

Unless...

Unless, she didn't. Unless she acted. Unless she refused to submit to defeat.

Caddo's out there. He's strapped to a sled and unless I get busy, he's gonna die.