People could measure crimes by the levels of betrayal achieved. And from that, they could create laws and devise punishments. All of this, he understood, belonged to everyone. It was society’s way of working, and it had a way of melding faces into one, for the good of all. It had nothing to do with what he needed the most – what every criminal needed – and that was the opportunity for redemption.

Where would he not go to find redemption? What would he not sacrifice? And in the end, for all that he did to repair what could not be repaired, what greater torment could he feel?

I am not like the others here. I am filled with regret when they are not. For them, no redemption should be offered. Take their lives in return for what they did.

But I yearn to make it all right again. I dream of doing something, something to unravel what happened, and what I did. I whispered to her. I begged her, and she answered with her last breath. Was there a word in it? I don’t know. I will never know.

There was a man who loved her, who sought to marry her. But I was the last man in her arms. Ugly Narad, shuddering like an animal. I know you hunt me, sir, whoever you are. I know that you dream of finding me and taking my life.

But you’ll not find me. I’ll do that much for you, sir, because I tell you, taking my life will offer you no release, no peace.

Instead, and this I vow, I will find something right to fight for, and set my life into the path of every murderer, every rapist, until I am finally cut down.

The echoes of laughter reached through his silent promises and he cringed. His was the face of war. His was the body that raped the innocent. And every desperate whisper to the fallen was a lie, and the way ahead was filled with smoke and fire, and he moved through it like a standard, a banner awaiting the rallying cry of killers.

There had been a boy once, not ugly …

* * *

Rint watched as the last stone was placed atop the cairn. Ville stepped back, slapping the grit from his hands. The short grasses on the hill glistened with morning dew, like diamonds scattered on the ground. Here and there flowering lichen lifted short stalks holding up tiny, bright red crowns, each one cupping a pearl of water.