From Across the Clouded Range (20 page)

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Authors: H. Nathan Wilcox

Tags: #magic, #dragons, #war, #chaos, #monsters, #survival, #invasion

BOOK: From Across the Clouded Range
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As if in answer, he felt a pressure
smashing his hand. Wincing he brought his eyes to Tethina’s. They
were wide with urgency. She smashed his hands again and only then
did Dasen realize that the village green was deathly silent. The
lesson was over. The counselor had asked Dasen for his vow, and he
had completely missed it. Everyone in the village was waiting.
Tethina looked desperate. She squeezed his hands until the joints
popped and he nearly fell to his knees.

"I unders. . . ." His voice cracked,
and he stopped to spare himself further embarrassment. He cleared
his throat and repeated, “I understand the laws of the Holy Order
and the Unified Kingdoms and will strive to follow them in this
union and throughout my life.” He said the words quickly and made
it without a break but felt the temperature rise in his face and
knew that he was beet red.

"Understanding the laws as they apply
to the Order is one thing, but understanding them as they apply to
yourself and your wife is another.” The counselor paused, and Dasen
gathered himself. “Dasen, do you swear to follow these laws by
providing for, protecting, and supporting Tethina and the family
you create together? Will you use your wisdom to guide them in the
ways of the Order and ensure that they obey Its divine laws? With
this pledge, you take on responsibility for Tethina and any
offspring you produce. It will be your duty to provide for them and
align them with the Order just as you do yourself. They will be an
extension of you, your custody and your responsibility every bit as
much as your hand and arm. Do you accept this responsibility and
promise to fulfill it to the best of your abilities?”


I do,” Dasen managed. “I
will guide Tethina to the Order. I accept responsibility for her
and our children in all ways under the Order.” Having finished his
pledge, he spared a glance at Tethina and found only ice in her
eyes. Her glare vanished as soon as he met it, but he knew what he
had seen. She was clearly upset, but what had she expected? That
was the oath used in every joining ceremony Dasen had ever
attended.

He contemplated this as Tethina made
her oath. Was he imagining that the words were strained, that the
hitch in her voice was caused by more than nerves, that a tear
escaped and streaked down her cheek as she spoke of her promise of
obey, to be subservient, to dedicate herself to raising children,
to supporting Dasen in all his endeavors? Seeing that tear, Dasen
realized how hard this must be for her. She was swearing away her
world and placing herself in his hands completely, into the hands
of a man she barely knew, had met only once. As hard as this was
for him, she had far more at stake, was giving up a hundred times
as much.

Overcome by that thought, he looked
deep into her eyes, squeezed her hands gently, and silently
promised that he would remember the trust she was giving him, that
he would not abuse that trust. He would guide her but try to do so
gently, patiently, as a friend. He smiled reassuringly and mouthed,
“It will be okay.” He could not be sure through the heavy veil, but
some small part of her seemed to relax in response.

 

 

Chapter 8

 

 


What’s that,
miss?”

Teth cleared her throat and steadied
her voice. “Have you served Lord Ronigan long?” she asked the big
man who walked before her. She had been introduced to him when Ipid
asked him to carry Milne back to their cabin, but she had been too
distracted to remember his name. In his shadow, Teth felt
absolutely tiny, and that unnerved her more than she cared to
admit.


I think he’d be sad if he
heard you call him ‘Lord’, if you don’t mind me saying.” The Morg’s
voice was cast low as to not disturb the woman sleeping in his big
arms. Milne looked like a kitten resting in his grasp, so tiny and
fragile against the giant’s broad chest. “He thinks of you as his
daughter. Only now has it become official, but he’s thought it for
as long as I’ve known him. Which, to your question, has been from
the beginning. Well, since the beginning of Ronigan &
Galbridge. He hired me to travel with him as he negotiated the
first lumber contracts, just a few months after the accident. It
was just me, him, and Paul, his secretary. I’ve been with him ever
since.”

Teth could not help but notice the
Morg’s wistful affection. It seemed out-of-place for such as him.
“So you’ve known Dasen for all this time?” she asked
cautiously.


I have,” the Morg
confirmed but offered nothing more.

Teth chewed her lip for a moment and
watched the trees pass on either side of them. Even at their
laborious pace, they were not far from the cabin. This may be her
only chance to get another view on her husband before they
departed.

The joining ceremony had told her
little. Dasen had seemed distracted to the point of oblivion. If
not for her reminder, he may have missed his oath altogether. She
had tried to remain strong as she said her own, but the words had
cut her like a knife: obey, honor, follow, support, children, home.
By the end her voice was catching and a foolish tear was tracking
down her cheek. The veil that was supposed to hide her face – a
custom dating back to the Empire when couples often had no idea who
they were joining until the ceremony was complete – had failed to
hide her weakness. Dasen had smiled so kindly then, mouthed
something, and looked at her with such compassion. Normally, she
would have sneered at such offers, but, in that moment, it had
warmed her, made her rethink all her derision from the day
before.

After the counselor sealed their union
and Dasen presented her with the pendant that would symbolize their
link, he had pulled back her veil and smiled, almost as if he were
pleasantly surprised by what he saw. No man had ever smiled at her
that way, and, despite herself, she had felt a fondness for him
that she could not shake. Throughout the next few hours as they had
greeted the villagers and partaken of the feast Ipid had ordered
for the occasion, they had been too distracted to speak much, but
Dasen had been nothing but kind. He had held her hand, touched her
shoulder, caressed her back each time gently, tentatively. He was
patient to a fault with the villagers, imploring that the Order saw
him no differently from them. Then he introduced them to her as if
she were from somewhere far away, as if she had not known these
people her entire life. And as he did, the faces of the villagers
changed, almost as if she really were new to them, as if they
hadn’t already passed judgment and deemed her a pariah.

When each villager was met, he led her
to her seat at the head table, filled a plate for her, and served
her as no one ever had. Meanwhile, Ipid held court with the
villagers, each seeking the favor of their master, pleading a case,
or begging for some dispensation. And Dasen’s witness, the
thinnest, most exuberant young man Teth had ever met, regaled her
with stories about the university that made even her laugh through
her trepidation. When he returned, Dasen implored the band of
minstrels that had arrived only that morning to perform while they
ate. The whole time, he watched her. They shared only the barest of
words, only the slightest touch, met eyes rarely, but there was a
familiarity that Teth could not dismiss and affection that she
could not dispel. By the time, Milne had fallen asleep in her chair
and Ipid was suggesting they be on their way, Teth was almost
enjoying herself.


What . . . what I mean .
. . well,” Teth struggled to form a question that would encompass
her jumbled thoughts and emotions, that would allow the Morg to
confirm or deny what she was feeling, if she could only decide what
she was feeling.

The Morg saved her. He turned, Milne
supported effortlessly, held her with his piercing, crystal-blue
eyes, and said, “You’ll have to find out about Dasen on your own.
But know this. Ipid loves you. He’s made his Order-blessed share of
mistakes, but this isn’t one of them.” Teth’s breath stopped. She
took a step back, overwhelmed by the intensity of the Morg’s stare.
“Come on now,” he continued, “let’s get your aunt in a proper bed.
And I imagine you’d like to be out of that dress.”

Teth only nodded.

 

#

 

Feeling infinitely more comfortable,
Teth strode back down the path toward Randor’s Pass. That morning a
small trunk had appeared at her aunt’s cabin, containing what the
note described as joining gifts. Piled in it had been a sapphire
necklace, gold bracelets and rings, a silver-framed mirror, a
crystal vial of disturbingly sweet perfume, a set of hairclips in
the shape of mythical flowers, a letter welcoming her and promising
a home filled with luxuries and servants when their studies were
complete, and most welcome, a dress that came as close as was
possible to fitting.

The Morg had carried the other items
back to the village with her single leather bag of underclothes and
personal items – she would hide the gifts in the forest once they
reached Lake Mithrel; they would be useful if she had to start a
new life. But the dress she wore. Though the fabric was luxurious
silk, it was a simple creation. Obviously meant for travel, it was
tight enough to support her and hug her slim hips but not
restricting. It had only short, loose sleeves and a deep neckline
both of which would be scandalous in the village. It flared
slightly but did not waste fabric on pleats or gathers and fell
just short of the ground. Light blue, the fabric was almost the
same color as her eyes, and its only adornment were simple white
flowers embroidered along the neck and sleeves. In all it was
cooler and more comfortable that Teth ever thought a dress could
be. Other than the long fabric catching on everything she passed,
she could almost imagine running through the forest in this
dress.

Over the dress, the pendant Dasen had
given her at the ceremony bobbed against her breastbone. The size
of a large coin, it was possibly the most extravagant thing she had
ever seen, crafted in gold with a myriad of tiny jewels set to
display Ipid and, by implication, Dasen’s crest. Teth had barely
hidden her disgust when Dasen’s witness revealed the thing – she
chided herself for not remembering his name; he would be a good
friend to have in Liandrin. For all its obvious cost, the pendant
clearly meant nothing to Dasen. He seemed surprised to see it, had
probably never touched it. In comparison to the wooden pendant’s
the village men crafted for their wives, to the one Milne had worn
even after her husband had died, it looked dead, its sparkling
jewels no match for wood lovingly polished. Even now, the thing
felt heavy on her neck, like a loadstone rather than a sign of love
and commitment.

Lost in thought, Teth emerged from the
trees and found a familiar group waiting for her. Flashing back to
that terrible night two weeks gone, she fell into a crouch. Her
hand moved toward the short knife hidden in the pocket along the
dress’ side. “What do you want?” she hissed. Her eyes found Pete
Magee at the front of a dozen other boys. His knowing sneer hit
Teth harder than even those big fists could manage. “My husband and
father . . . .”


No need ta start that
now,” Pete interrupted. “We’s just here ta congratulate ya. Ain’t
that right, boys?” His fellows nodded, wicked, knowing grins
spreading.

What are they on
about?
Teth wondered. They looked like a
band of foxes that had just raided a chicken coup. “I appreciate
the sentiment,” Teth replied. Sidestepping to keep all the boys in
front her, she made her way past them, hoping to escape to the
safety of the green. She suddenly wished that she had not sent the
Morg on ahead.


We had a talk with yir
man last night,” Pete continued. “I’ll admit it took some
convincin’, but he ‘ventually ‘greed that there’d be only one way
ta tame ya.”

Feeling her heart suddenly
throbbing in her throat, Teth barely managed a response, “What
would that be?” She tried to make her voice defiant, but it came
out as a frightened croak.
What had these
bastards done?


Don’t play dumb wit’ us.
We’s know what yir doin’ out there wit’ yir animals, but this time
it’ll be a real man givin’ it ta ya. And I wouldn’t expect ‘im ta
be gentle. Fuck the wildcat out of ya, is what he said he’d do. Get
that flat little belly all swelled up wit’ a pup, keep ya locked ta
‘is bed till ya find yir place, till ya beg ‘im ta treat ya like
the proper girl ya should a been all along.”


You’re lying,” Teth
whispered.


Ya better hope so, hadn’t
ya,” Pete locked her eyes and sneered again before turning and
disappearing into the crowd of his followers. With a series of
gestures to drive home the full implication of their leader’s
words, the other boys followed.

Teth was left alone on the
edge of the village, trembling. “They’re lying,” she told herself
out loud, but that didn’t stop the horrifying images flashing
through her mind, the questions, the doubt, the fear.
They’re trying to rattle you. It’s one of their
games. Dasen wouldn’t even talk to that rabble, let alone take
their advice.
She repeated that logic to
herself and eventually found the will to continue walking.
This changes nothing
,
she told herself.
This never happened.
They are lying, you know they are. This changes nothing.

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