Derelict

Who Ever Perished Being Innocent?

Chapter Twenty-Six

Rison watched in horror as Kemp and his scouts hauled away an unconscious Caddo. Drops of blood from the gash on the back of his head trailed across the cavern floor, a vivid symbol of the price he had paid. It was never supposed to happen quite like this. She only wanted to help; she wanted everyone to be safe. No one was supposed to get hurt, especially not Caddo.

She wanted to blame it all on Rusk. She wanted to take her knife and slip it deep between his ribs until he cried for mercy. Why? Because he confused her with kind, caring words and gently dismantled her carefully built walls of defense. Because he was the one who had convinced her he was concerned and only had 'Caddo's best interests in mind.' Because he was the Touri, the leader of her clan, and she trusted him.

But he was a liar and she had allowed herself to be manipulated. She had swallowed his story whole in one meaty gulp and now that bite festered and boiled in her gut where it threatened to erupt. She was disgusted with herself for putting even an ounce of trust in Rusk. I should have known better!

And then, there stood Wyatt. His expression transformed to revulsion when knowledge of her deed dawned on him and it was more than she could bear. His face was ashen in the flickering light of the lamps as he turned from her to follow Caddo.

She was alone. Never before had she felt so isolated and forsaken. She was abandoned. The realization it was of her own doing sickened her. The food she had eaten earlier churned up, spewing out in sickening gouts across the cavern floor leaving a vile taste in her mouth.

Something vital had broken inside, something she knew was irreplaceable.

Why? Why did I ever tell him that business about the Strintouri? Am I really that much of an idiot? Why did I not realize Rusk would only perceive the rise of the Strintouri as a threat to his own position and leadership?

She trudged through the cavern, up the stairs and headed to the open air. People brushed by her, only a few pausing to glance her way. Little did they know the one with head hung low and the thin trail of vomit tracing across her chin was the betrayer, the one who had willing surrendered her honor to one with none of his own. It was then she recalled Caddo's words to Bryant, just before the arrival at Blanchard Springs. Betrayal. The hour will come when the Strintouri will be betrayed. She knew then her life was contemptible. She knew she could not bear to face that awful knowledge each and every day. The prospect of rising each morning with the guilt she had betrayed Caddo, that she was the catalyst behind his beating and trial—it was more than she ever wanted to bear.

The solution was apparent. Obvious, even. She would end this agony and with it, her disgrace. She would let the Wastelands take her. It was an old tradition of the Rama, for those who too ill or weak, too old or frail, for those beaten down by the hardscrabble life, and even for those with no good reason to continue forward. Just a short walk away into the wild, unarmed and without water. It would all be over soon.

The Wastelands consumed all, the good and the evil. The Wastelands did not judge and would bear no malice. It would be a fitting end for a traitor.

**************

She emerged from the cavern just as dusk was settling over Blanchard Springs. The clearing at the cavern opening was packed with bodies and it seemed the entire clan was present. All eyes were focused on the scene playing out on the steps to the building where Caddo had made his stirring speech only a few hours earlier.