From Across the Clouded Range (45 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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The old man laughed. It was a terrible
sound, the maniacal cackles of a madman. The sound made Rynn’s mind
spin and body shake. It made him desperately afraid. He could no
longer think for the fear that gripped him. It was a mad kind of
fear that overpowered all sense of rationality until he thought
that he might run from the tent in a hopeless dash for freedom or,
in the same stroke, fall to the ground and weep like a child. When
that feeling had grown so powerful that he could no longer control
it, the laughter stopped, and the fear was gone as if someone had
turned a switch in his mind.

"Fear, I like much better.” The old
man’s voice had become sweet, almost fatherly. “For now, it is fear
that will open your mind to Hilaal’s power. When you are afraid,
you are thinking only of yourself. Order be damned. You will do
anything to survive. You will rend the very laws of nature to
overcome your fear. That is power. That is strength.”

"Ah, but, you will learn
all of that in time.” The old man waved off the words as a
meaningless philosophical digression – Rynn did not understand any
of it, so it was just as well. “I am being rude. My name is Thay a’
Raginor, but my followers refer to me as
the Belab
." The last was said with
an extraordinary gravity as if he had just said he was the San
Chier Emperor – his name actually denoted that he was an imperial
bastard. The other men in the tent bowed their heads in deference –
the lone movement they had made since Rynn entered.

Before Rynn could respond with his own
introduction, the man spoke his part. "And you, my child, are
Rynnier de Alettenhof lal Hurchstal, the third son of the Lord
Baron of Hurchstal and current student of the Order and the Way at
the University of Liandrin. You are in training for a place as a
counselor, if I am not mistaken.”

Rynn could only nod at the accuracy of
the assessment. It seemed to give the old man great pleasure. “I do
so love irony,” he chuckled to himself, but Rynn failed to see the
irony and focused on remaining calm.


You are commonly known as
Rynn? You do not mind if I call you Rynn, do you?" The old man
smiled and paused as if expecting an answer.

For the first time in his life, it
took Rynn a long time to find his voice, and even then it was weak.
"N . . . No!"

There was another laugh from the
Belab. "You seem less talkative now, my child. Did you sleep
well?”


I . . . I slept fine,” he
managed. Rynn did not remember having ever talked to this
man.


That is an
understatement. You have been asleep for a day and a half. I
finally had to send someone to rouse you, but you should feel
better now. You were hysterical the last time we spoke.”

The image of himself lying on the
ground begging, wracked with pain flashed through Rynn’s mind. The
image shook him to the core, but he could not explore it further
before his attention was drawn to the old man.


Do you know why you were
singled out from the others?"

When he did not answer, the old man
prodded him with a light, "Hmmm," to which Rynn finally replied,
"No . . . no, sir, I . . . I don’t, but I assume it has to do with
my father. You should know that he will not pay a high ransom. We
never have gotten along, and he would probably be just as happy if
you keep me. . . ."

"I am not concerned with your father.”
The old man growled before he composed himself and turned sweet.
“He has nothing to do with why you are here. Yesterday, you were
tested, Rynn, and you passed. You have within you a spark that no
other in this village possesses. Have you ever heard of Hilaal's
gift?"

Rynn only shook his head when he found
that he could not seem to speak no matter how he tried. Belab
continued without concern for whether there had been a shake or
not. "You will know Rynn of Hurchstal, and you will count yourself
fortunate. Hilaal has granted you powers beyond your wildest
dreams, the ability to change the order of the world, and all you
must do in return is serve Hilaal, Hilaal and me."

Rynn still did not have
the slightest idea what the old man was talking about – Hilaal was
he evil brother of Hileil from the old legends in
The Book of Valatarian

but it was clear that he was utterly mad. Serve him? What kind of
bandit was this? The thought nearly made him laugh, but the next
turn in the conversation ended any sense of mirth.

"Unfortunately, before we can begin
that phase of your life, you have another purpose to fulfill.” The
old man watched him for a moment with apparent regret. Finally, he
sighed and began again. “Now, my child, I understand that you know
something of a young man named Dasen Ronigan." The man was smiling
and speaking as if they were the best of friends, but Rynn saw
through this farce.

"I don't know anyone of that name,”
Rynn lied nervously. “You must be mis . . . ."

He did not have the chance to finish
his sentence as every nerve in his body erupted in pain. It was
like nothing he had ever experienced, like a thousand needles
stabbing him at once. The pain was everywhere, and all he could do
was convulse, unable even to scream.

The pain extended for an eternity
before it suddenly ceased. Rynn fell to the ground panting. His
heart hammered, and his eyes rolled in their sockets. When he had
recovered enough to raise his head from the ground, the Belab began
again in the same sweet voice as if nothing had happened. "Now, I
believe we were discussing your friend, Dasen . . . ."

 

#

 

Rynn was subjected to the pain twice
more while he spoke with the Belab. By the end of the third
session, he was sprawled on the ground thrashing uncontrollably.
That last session had lasted until the pain seemed normal, until
Rynn could no longer remember what it felt like to not be in pain.
When the agony finally ended, he continued to convulse and heave as
his body revolted against the treatment.

"As you no doubt recall,” the Belab
continued before Rynn could even open his eyes, “I was wondering
where your friend Dasen might seek refuge, what family he has,
which people he trusts. You had said that you did not know, but I
suspect that you may want to change that answer."

Shaking uncontrollably, Rynn fought to
speak through the spasms that shook him. His words came out in a
soft slur. "I . . . I don’t know. I’m not from here . . . and Dasen
hasn’t been here in . . . in twelve years. We only came for . . .
for his joining ceremony.” With that, he broke into tears. “Please
. . . please, don't hurt me anymore. I. . . . I’ve told you
everything . . . everything I know." He was telling the truth. He
would do anything to keep the pain from returning.

The Belab sat silently for a long
time. Overcome by fear, Rynn watched him, praying between pants
that he would be satisfied. The old man’s eyes were closed, and he
was very still as if in deep meditation. “So we will have to try
another track,” he finally mumbled to himself.

A moment later, the Belab was reaching
down to help Rynn to his feet. He pulled him up then traced a shape
on his forehead with his finger. When he spoke his voice was kind,
full of affection. "I am sorry, Rynn. Truly. Please, do not think
that I did this because I wanted to.” He sighed. His face was full
of sadness so that Rynn felt as if he should be comforting his
torturer. At the same time, he felt his pain and fear ebbing away.
“It has made me ill to hurt you. You have been given Hilaal’s gift.
You are a son to him and thus to me. We should be celebrating as a
family reunited instead of fighting like strangers.”

The Belab put his arm around Rynn.
Rynn tried to pull away, but his anger was almost gone and the old
man’s eyes were so deep that Rynn felt like he was falling into
them. All his resistance faded. The pain he had felt a moment
before seemed a lifetime gone. Calm and assurance filled the void,
a sense of belonging, oneness, and love.


It is the same as a
father who beats his son,” the Belab was saying. “He does it only
to make him better, to teach him. So it is with you. I had to do
this to protect you, to protect all of us from this young man who
pretended to be your friend. But I see now the terrible mistake I
have made.” The Belab rubbed his brow as if troubled and tired.
“You do not even know who you are. You could not possibly know the
stakes we face, could not see how Dasen has manipulated you. You
have only just met your new family, and this is how we treat you?
It is a disgrace, and I apologize.”

The Belab sighed. Rynn
looked into his eyes and again saw compassion, understanding,
everything his own father had never given him.
How can I be angry with this man? Why was he even
apologizing?
Rynn could not seem to
remember how he had ever been wronged by the Belab. He smiled. “You
. . . you only do what you must, great one.” Rynn heard himself
saying. He wasn’t sure where those words had come from, but he
suddenly believed them with all his soul.

The Belab returned his smile with a
grin that split his wild beard and added light to his dark eyes.
“Thank you, my son. I am glad that you understand. But I am sorry
to say that Dasen is still a great danger to us, to your new
family. I know that he has hurt you, has manipulated you, kept you
under his thumb. I know how he has lorded over you, used his
wealth, his intellect, his charisma to keep you in thrall. But it
was all a lie, my child. Do you see now what he has done to you?”
The Belab paused as if expecting an answer, but Rynn was confused.
He didn’t remember Dasen that way. Yet, as the Belab spoke, it all
seemed true.


He has always been
better,” the Belab continued, “one ahead of you in your classes,
with your friends. And he taunted you about that, didn't he?
Taunted you and threw it in your face that you would never be
joined. That he would have a wife and you would have nothing. He
had everything to give but could not spare a single ounce from his
overflowing cup. Did he offer you a position in his company? Did he
arrange an apprenticeship with his father? Did he turn the girls he
scorned to you?”

Rynn found himself shaking his head.
“No,” the Belab answered his own questions. “You were nothing more
than his clown. Not even worthy of his scraps, less than a dog at
his table. And now that he has a wife, do you think he will even
have time for his clown?”

The Belab shook his head in dismay.
Rynn could feel his anger building. How had he not seen it before?
How had he allowed himself to be used that way?


I am sorry, my son,” the
Belab consoled. He held Rynn in his arms, embraced him as his own
father never had. “I am sorry to be the one to tell you these
truths, but you must free yourself of those chains if you are to
reach your potential, if you are to become one of us. We want you
as part of our family, your true family. You are no one’s clown any
longer, Rynn. You are a child of Hilaal, a great and powerful man
whose potential has just now been discovered.”

Rynn looked up and saw the old man
smiling. He smiled as well. The Belab spoke to him affectionately.
“I am sorry, for all the pain you have suffered at the hands of
your supposed friend. It hurts me more than you know. I would love
nothing more than to punish him, but revenge is not our way. . .
.”

Rynn felt his hatred seething at the
mention of Dasen. Images of Dasen laughing behind his back,
enjoying all the women who had scorned him, ridiculing him to his
father, the two of them joking at the idea of Rynn working with
them crowded his mind. The Belab patted his shoulder with a look of
understanding. “No, my child. Revenge is for those like Dasen who
revel in the pain it causes. We must strive to give him
understanding, just as you have come to understand. We will redeem
him and bring him to the service of Hilaal.”

Rynn was rueful. He wanted revenge,
wanted to see Dasen suffer, but he was also confident that the
Belab knew best – the Belab always knew. He nodded his
agreement.

Seeing the concession, the Belab
turned to the other men and said, "He is ready."

With those words, a hole opened in
front of Rynn. It was a spinning disc of black that expanded until
it was the height of a man. Rynn watched the thing, afraid of
whatever it was, but he was steeled by the presence of the Belab,
his father, his savior, so he did not draw back from the dreadful
shape.

The Belab gestured to the disk and
patted Rynn on the back. "Go now, my child. This gate will lead you
to a place where you will learn to use your gifts, where you can
learn to reach our full potential. Learn quickly, for you will need
all the knowledge they can give you to find your former friend and
bring him to us."

Rynn looked back one more time at the
old man, and they embraced. From somewhere, the memory returned of
Dasen his friend, but he pushed it aside and replaced it with an
image of the Belab. He knew his friend now, and he knew his enemy.
He would do as the Belab suggested. He would bring Dasen to him,
but he would ensure that he suffered first, suffered for all the
things he had done and all the things he hadn’t.

The Belab released him and turned him
to face the black disk. The old man smiled broadly and motioned him
forward. Rynn held the image of the Belab in his mind as he stepped
through the black corridor toward his future.

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