The Riddle - Alison Croggon [82]
“What did you do to that other Bard?” she asked.
“I emptied his mind. He will be perfectly calm until the morning, and then he will take Ilar’s body back to Lirigon, to be attended to by those who love her.”
“I’m surprised there’s anybody, the way she spoke.” The words came out of Maerad, vindictive and ugly, before she could stop herself, and then it was too late to draw them back. For a moment, Maerad quailed as cold anger flared again in Cadvan’s face, before he mastered himself.
“It does not do to speak ill of the dead,” he said softly. “It is singularly graceless when her death is on your conscience. Ilar was a Bard of great honesty and worth. If she was mistaken, it does not make her worthy of your sneers. I do not doubt that you are shocked, and I know you are very young, but that does not excuse you.”
Maerad smarted at his rebuke; he was treating her like a child. She folded her lips tightly and turned away, saying nothing.
Cadvan waited for her to answer, and then sighed and continued. “Your failure is also my failure, as I am your teacher. I have not taught you as I should. And I have not had the strength to meet your need over the past days. I am deeply sorry for that; it has led to disaster. I hope it doesn’t lead to further ruin.”
“Meet my need?” Maerad looked up at him. “What do you mean? How do you know what I need?”
“I know you are troubled, Maerad. And it seems that at the moment I am unable to help you, and I have failed to teach you how to use your powers as a Bard should. That is what I mean. Ilar’s death lies on me as heavily, as it should on you.”
“I do feel sorry for it,” said Maerad sharply. “Why do you think I don’t? But it was me who did it, wasn’t it? You don’t need to get all noble and take it upon yourself as well. I did it. I killed a Bard. She was going to deliver us to the Dark, but no matter, I shouldn’t have killed her. I shouldn’t have killed the wight, either.”
“I was not saying that.” Cadvan looked to the sky, as if summoning patience. “It should not have even occurred to you to kill Ilar. Bards of the Light do not kill each other. They were not Hulls, nor even corrupt Bards. They would not have wantonly killed us, even if we had attacked them: only in the last resort, ever, would one Bard kill another human being. If you had been taught properly, you would have known that. Your power is frightening, Maerad. Misused, it is a monstrous power.”
Maerad saw Namaridh’s face, twisted with fear and grief, calling her monster. Was that what she was? Was that what Gahal had seen, when he had tried to warn her in Ossin: that she was a monster? She suddenly felt like weeping. Deep inside, she understood the enormity of what she had done, but she couldn’t face it, and it could not be undone.
She almost overcame her resistance and unburdened herself to Cadvan. But something kept her back: pride, perhaps, or a shadow of the fear of Cadvan that she had felt since the voyage from Thorold. Oh, she was wrong, she knew she was wrong. But she was not wholly wrong. Cadvan was still being unjust. She drove her tears back with an iron effort of will.
“I’m not a monster. I made a mistake. You made a mistake, too, didn’t you? But nobody calls you a monster.”
“Some do, in fact,” Cadvan responded dryly. “That is not the point. Maerad, I know what it’s like to misuse power. It is a terrible thing. Out of all the terrible things that have happened to me, my own actions have been the worst. They scarred my life as nothing else has.”
Maerad stirred at the urgency in his voice, but said nothing. If she broke now, she would break into pieces. She did not want to break. She felt herself hard and stern, and something in her rejoiced at her resistance.
“Maerad,” said Cadvan. “Listen to me. If you do not learn how to control these powers you have, I fear for you. I fear for all of us.”
Then be afraid, said some inner voice. She looked steadily across the fire into Cadvan’s eyes. “There’s nothing to be frightened of,” she said. “I am sorry I killed the Bard. I won’t do it again.”
Cadvan held