The Quality of Mercy
Cadderly stood perfectly still for a few moments, too immersed to even notice his two friends' approach. All of his thoughts were focused on what had just occurred, on what he had just done. Three orogs lay dead by his actions, and, worse yet, he had killed one of them with his bare hands.
It had been so easy. Cadderly hadn't even thought about his actions, had moved solely on instincts killing instincts that had even urged him to destroy the orog running down the road toward Rufo, nowhere near Cadderly. The orog was there, in his crossbow sights, then it was dead.
It was too easy.
Not for the first time in the last few weeks, Cadderly questioned his purpose in life, the sincerity of his calling to the god Deneir. Headmaster Avery had once called Cadderly a Gondsman, referring to a sect of inventive priests who showed little moral guidance in forming their dangerous constructions. That word, "Gondsman," hovered about the young scholar now, like the dead eyes of a man he had killed.
Cadderly came out of his trance to see Danica standing beside him, wiping her face, and Kierkan Rufo holding Cadderly's wide-brimmed hat and nodding appreciatively. Cadderly shuddered as Danica wiped blood from her fair cheek. Could she really clean it? he wondered. And could he cleanse his hands? The image of beautiful Danica covered in gore seemed horribly symbolic; Cadderly felt as if the world had been turned upside down, as if the lines of good and evil had flip-flopped and blurred together to become a gray area based purely on savage and primal instincts for survival.
The simple truth was that the companions could have bypassed this tree, could have avoided the slaughter altogether.
Sympathy was plain on Danica's face. She took the hat from Rufo and offered it to Cadderly, then she offered her arm. The shaken young scholar took both without hesitation. Kierkan Rufo again nodded grimly at him, a gesture of thanks, and it seemed to Cadderly as if the angular man, too, respected his inner turmoil.
They headed back to the maple, Danica and Cadderly arm in arm, just in time to see Elbereth smash in the skull of the writhing orog. The elf prince unceremoniously tore his stiletto out of the creature's leg.
Cadderly looked away, pushed Danica from him, and felt sure he would vomit. He eyed the elf prince for a moment with a grave stare, then pointedly turned and walked from the scene. He moved parallel to Elbereth, but did not look at him.
"What would you have me do?" he heard an angry Elbereth call out. Danica mumbled something to the elf that Cadderly could not hear, but Elbereth was not finished with his tirade.
"If it were his home . . ." Cadderly heard clearly, and he knew that Elbereth, though talking to Danica, was directing the remark his way. He looked back to see Danica nodding at Elbereth, the two exchanging grim smiles, then clasping hands warmly.
The world had turned upside down.
A sound by the maple caught his attention. He saw the lone living orog, lying still and staring upward. Cadderly followed its gaze up to the broken tree limb, to the piece of dripping flesh. Horrified, the young scholar rushed to the wounded creature. It took him a moment to discern that the creature was alive, that it actually still drew breath, for its chest moved so slowly, its breathing shallow and uneven. Cadderly pulled the eye-above-candle emblem, his holy symbol, from the front of his hat and fumbled with a pouch on his belt. He heard the others moving behind him, but paid them no heed.
"What are you doing?" Elbereth asked him.
"He is still alive," Cadderly replied. "I have spells . . ."
"No!"
The sharpness of the retort did not strike Cadderly as profoundly as the fact that it had been Danica, not Elbereth, who snapped at him. He turned about slowly, as if he expected to see a horrid monster looming over him.
It was just Danica and Elbereth and Rufo; Cadderly hoped there remained a difference.
"The creature is too far gone," Danica said, her voice suddenly quiet.
"You shall not waste your spells on the likes of an orog!" Elbereth added, and there was nothing at all quiet about his sharp tones.
"We cannot leave it here to die," Cadderly shot back, fumbling again with his pouch. "Surely its lifeblood will spill out into the mud."
"A fitting end for an orog," Elbereth replied evenly.
Cadderly looked at him, still surprised by the grim elf's lack of mercy.
"Go if you will," Cadderly growled. "I am a cleric of a merciful god and I'll not leave a wounded creature like this!"
Danica pulled Elbereth away then. They had much to do before they could leave, in any case. A lot of their equipment lay scattered, weapons buried in orog flesh, and one horse, the one that had stumbled over the broken branch, needed tending.
Elbereth understood and honored the young woman's feelings. Cadderly had fought well the elf couldn't deny that and they could prepare to leave without his assistance.
Back up the trail, Elbereth retrieved his dropped bow. As he began to sling it over his shoulder, he heard a gasp from Danica, picking up her pack just a few feet from him.
Elbereth spun to her, then turned immediately to where she was looking.
Black smoke rose over Shilmista's northwestern edge.
Oblivious to the distant spectacle, Cadderly worked furiously to stem the blood flow from the orog's torn leg. Where to begin? All the flesh of the outside half of the leg, from ankle to midthigh, had been ripped away. Furthermore, the creature had suffered a dozen other severe wounds, including broken bones, from being run down by Rufo's horse. Cadderly had never been overly proficient at his priestly studies, and clerical magic was not easy for him. Even if he was the finest healer of the Edificant Library, though, he doubted he could do much for this broken creature.
Every so often, a drop of blood plopped beside him from the hanging skin. A pointed reminder, Cadderly believed, falling rhythmically, like a heartbeat. Then it stopped. Cadderly took great pains not to look up.
The least he could do was comfort the doomed creature, though that hardly seemed sufficient in the face of his actions. He pulled in a piece of the broken branch and propped it under the orog's head. Then he went back to work, refusing to consider the beast's nature, refusing to remember that the orogs had planned to kill him and the others. He wrapped and tied, plugged holes with his fingers and was not disgusted by the newest blood on his hands.
"Young scholar!" he heard Elbereth say. Cadderly looked to the side, then fell back and cried out, seeing a drawn bow leveled his way.
The arrow cut right by his chest he felt the windy wake of its rushing flight and dove into the wounded orog, catching the monster under the chin and driving up into its brain. The creature gave one violent jerk, then lay still.
"We have no time for your folly," Elbereth snarled, and he stormed past the stunned man, not taking his glare off Cadderly until he reached the wounded horse.
Cadderly wanted to cry out in protest, wanted to run over and punch Elbereth in the face, but Danica was beside him, calming him and helping him to his feet.
"Let the matter drop," the young woman offered. Cadderly turned on her fiercely, but saw only tenderness in her clear brown eyes and pursed lips.
"We must leave at once," Danica said. "The forest is burning."
With his already bloodied sword, Elbereth mercifully finished off the doomed horse. Cadderly noted the elf's sad expression and the gentle way he completed the grim task, noted that the elf cared more for the horse than for the orogs.
It had been Cadderly's mount, and when they left, Cadderly was the one walking, refusing offers from Danica and Rufo to share their steeds, and not even answering Elbereth's offer that the elf prince would walk and Cadderly ride.
Cadderly looked straight ahead, every step, refusing to acknowledge his companions. In his silent vigil, though, the battle replayed, and Barjin's dead eyes stared at them all from above the mental battlefield, forever judging.
They entered the thick boughs of Shilmista at twilight, and Elbereth, despite his desire to find his people, quickly moved to set up camp. "We will leave long before dawn," the elf explained sternly. "If you wish to sleep, do so now. The night will not be a long one."
"Can you sleep?" Cadderly snarled at him. Elbereth's silver eyes narrowed as the young scholar boldly approached.
"Can you?" Cadderly asked again, his voice growing dangerously loud. "Does your heart cry at the deeds of your bow and sword? Do you even care?"
Danica and Rufo looked on with alarm, almost expecting Elbereth to kill Cadderly where he stood.
"They were orogs, orc kin," Elbereth calmly reminded him.
"Without mercy, how much better are we?" Cadderly growled in frustration. "Do our veins run thick with the same blood as orcs?"
"It is not your home," the elf replied evenly. His voice filled with sarcasm. "Have you ever had a home?"
Cadderly did not reply, but he did not, could not, ignore the question. He really didn't know the answer. He had lived in Carradoon, the town on Impresk Lake, before going to the library, but he remembered nothing of that distant time. Perhaps the library was his home; he could not be certain, for he had nothing to compare it against.
"If your home was in danger, you would fight for it, do not doubt," Elbereth continued as he maintained control. "You would kill whatever threatened your home without mercy, and would hold no laments for its death." The elf stared into Cadderly's gray eyes for a few moments longer, awaiting a reply.
Then Elbereth was gone, disappeared into the forest gloom to scout out the region.
Cadderly heard Danica's relieved sigh behind him.
Exhausted, Kierkan Rufo tumbled down and was snoring almost immediately. Danica had the same idea, but Cadderly sat before the low-burning fire, wrapped in a heavy blanket. Its thickness did little to warm the chill in his heart.
He hardly noticed when Danica came over to sit beside him.
"You should not be so troubled," she offered after a long silence.
"Was I to let the orog die?" Cadderly asked sharply.
Danica shrugged and nodded. "Orogs are vicious, evil things," she said. "They live to destroy, further no causes beyond their own vile desires. I do not lament their deaths." She glanced sidelong at Cadderly. "Nor do you.
"It is Barjin, is it not?" Danica asked him, her voice full of pity.
The words stung. Incredulous, Cadderly turned on Danica.
"It was never about the orog," Danica continued, undaunted. "The fury of your movements as you tended the creature was not befitting any kin of orcs. It was guilt that drove you, memories of the dead priest,"
Cadderly's expression did not change, though he found it difficult to dispute Danica's claims. Why had he cared so deeply for the orog, a notorious villain that would have torn the heart from his chest if given the chance? Why had that wounded orog evoked so much pity?
"You acted, you fought, as the situation demanded," Danica said quietly. "Against the orogs and against the priest. It was Barjin, not Cadderly, who caused Barjin's death. Lament that it had to happen at all. Do not accept guilt for that which you could not control."
"What is the difference?" Cadderly asked sincerely.
Danica draped an arm about his shoulders and moved close. Cadderly could feel her breath, hear her heartbeat, and see the moisture on her full lips.
"You must judge yourself as fairly as you judge others," Danica whispered. "I, too, battled Barjin and would have killed him if given the opportunity. How would you look upon me if that had come to pass?"
Cadderly had no answers.
Danica leaned closer and kissed him, then hugged him tightly, though he had not the strength to respond. Without another word, she moved back to her blanket and lay down, offering him a parting smile before she closed her eyes and gave in to her weariness.
Cadderly sat for a while longer, watching the young woman. She understood him so well, better than he understood himself. Or was it just that Danica understood the wide world as sheltered Cadderly could not? For all of his short life, Cadderly had found his answers in books, while Danica, worldly wise, had searched out her answers through experience.
Some things, it seemed, could not be learned simply by reading about them.
Elbereth came back into camp a short while later. Cadderly was down, but not asleep, and he watched the elf. Elbereth rested his bow against a log, and unbelted his sword, and place it beside his bedroll. Then, to Cadderly's surprise, Elbereth went over to Danica and gently tucked her blankets up tightly about her shoulders. He stroked Danica's thick hair, then walked back to his own bedroll and lay under the myriad stars.
For the second time that day, Cadderly didn't know what to think or how to feel.