From Across the Clouded Range (5 page)

“
Of course,” Ipid said
with a nod but bit his tongue to avoid the argument he craved. He
had heard Petr Alsance’s philosophy many times but had never been
in a position to challenge him. This was also his biggest concern
with the direction of Dasen’s education, why he was desperate to
get him away from this sheltered learning. He believed strongly in
the basics of education, that it was important for people to be
able to read, to understand mathematics, to be taught about the
Order and how Its will was interpreted, but too much of what was
taught at the university was based on overly rigid philosophies
that had no application in the real world.

Dasen was the perfect
example of this. He developed theories on labor, trade, pricing
from what he read in books rather than from spending years in the
mills with the workers, from countless hours negotiating contracts,
from bidding on resources at public auctions. This led him to see
the world as the elegant clock the Church considered it to be
–
as long as all the gears are in their
proper places, the world will run perfectly
. But if Petr Alsance had spent any time in the real world,
he would know that the machine was not nearly that simple. Not all
the cogs were the same: some played a critical, irreplaceable role;
some didn’t help the machine at all; others needed extra grease;
still others might seem to be work counter to the machine but were,
in fact, simply too complex to understand. By missing these
differences, the Church lost sight of what made humans unique and
valuable – why had the Twins touched humans with chaos, given them
free wills if not to allow them self-determination? It was also
Ipid’s experience that there was not just one way to put the clock
together. In fact, his fortune had be made by developing new ways
to bring people together and produce products more efficiently, by
finding practical patterns within the Order that no book could
explain.

It was Petr Alsance oversimplified
interpretation of the Order that had led the world to regress under
the near thousand year rule of the Empire. During that time, the
Church had controlled every aspect of every person’s life to align
them with what they saw the Order to be. They had seen only one
interpretation of the Order and only themselves as capable of
finding each person’s “place” in that Order. Self-determination,
innovation, anything counter to their strict interpretation was
strictly forbidden. As a result, everyone’s place had remained low,
except their own and those of their Imperial enforcers, of
course.

“
Is it just us then?” the
di valati began, pulling Ipid from his thoughts. “I was led to
believe that Dasen would be joining us.”

“
It appears that he did
not receive my summons,” Ipid conceded. “My manservant, Elton, has
gone to find him. I am confident that they will arrive shortly. I
know that you are very busy and hope that this does not disrupt
your schedule. While we wait can I interest you in some
tea?”

“
That would be most
welcome, though if you have coffee, I would prefer it. It is one of
the luxuries I allow myself. You might think of it as the grease
that keeps this cog moving.” The di valati laughed. Ipid forced
himself to join him, but mentally noted that there were very few
“cogs” that could afford to brew the expensive beans from the
island of Kiz.

“
Paul,” Ipid called to his
scribe, “do we . . . .”

“
There is no need, sir,”
Paul assured. “I had the kitchen prepare a pot when His Excellency
arrived. It should be here . . . .” A light tap at the door
interrupted Paul’s words. “That is likely it now,” he said as he
strode to the door. On the other side were Kors Durbins and the
young red-haired man. The later carried a silver tray with a number
of porcelain cups and a silver pot.

“
Where would you like me
to put the coffee, sir?” the young man asked as he
entered.

“
Here on the table, Lyon,”
Ipid said with a smile at Paul, “and please pour a cup for Di
Valati Alsance and me. Would you like one as well, Mr. Durbins?” he
asked his Order advisor as he entered.

“
No thank you, sir,” Kors
declined with a small bow. “How may I be of assistance to
you?”

Rather than answer the question, Ipid
turned to the di valati. “Your Excellency, may I introduce Kors
Durbins. I have hired him to assist me in interpreting the Order as
it is understood here in Liandria.”

“
Dear Kors,” the di valati
said as the lawyer approached. He embraced Kors then held him away,
examining him like a grandfather receiving a favorite grandchild.
“It has been some time since I have seen you. I am glad that you
have found a good position. In my opinion, you can scarce do better
than working for Lord Ronigan. Though he is not yet fully
established here in Liandria, he is a good and honorable man, who
will surely carry his success from the Kingdoms with
him.”

“
I have no doubt that is
true, Your Excellency. I am sorry I have not been back to see you.
Lord Ronigan keeps me quite busy, but it is no excuse.”

Ipid, of course, knew that Kors had
been a top student at Liandrin University and was not surprised by
the greeting. He had counted on it, in fact. Petr Alsance could
very well undo everything he had put into motion. The substantial
contributions he had made to the university were part of that, but
a persuasive and empathetic voice could often go every bit as
far.

“
Speaking of busy,” Ipid
spoke to his lawyer, “how are the contracts we discussed
proceeding?”

“
They all seem to be in
line with the Order’s divine will. I am confident that they will be
accepted.”

“
That is fine. When this
meeting is complete, I will expect a full accounting. I only plan
to be in Liandrin for a short time, and we should make the most of
it. Now, please be seated. We are waiting only for Elton to return
with Dasen.”

Ipid turned from Kors and motioned
Petr to a heavily padded, embroidered chair near the room’s dead
fireplace. A welcome morning breeze still swept through the open
windows, but it was early summer and there was no need to heat a
room that would be intolerably hot in a few hours.

When he was seated, Ipid joined him in
a matching seat on the opposite side. Kors sat in the
configurations only other chair off to the side of Ipid’s. No seat
had been set for Dasen. Though Dasen had now seen eighteen years,
Ipid would not consider him an adult who could sit in the presence
of his betters until he found and accepted his place in the Order.
He hoped today would be the first step in that.

The di valati sipped the dark, cream
laden coffee and smiled. “Exactly how I like it,” he sighed and
relished another sip.

Pleased, Ipid took a drink of his own
cup and nearly spit it out. It was so sweet he could barely taste
the coffee. For the briefest moment, he thought to chastise Paul
but then saw how the di valati was enjoying it. He smiled over the
rim of his cup and forced down another swallow.

“
So, Ipid, what is it that
brings us all here with such urgency?” Di Valati Alsance asked
between sips. His tone was casual, but Ipid could tell from his
eyes that even he was intrigued by the strange
circumstances.

Ipid took a deep breath,
pushed back what remained of his thinning hair, and sat forward in
his chair, a task made harder by his substantial belly and the
tight cut of his suit –
have I really
added that much weight?
“To put it simply,
I have decided that it is time for Dasen to be joined.”

Petr Alsance took a careful sip from
his cup, but his eyes darted from Ipid to Kors and back again. “I
see. And you haven’t discussed this with Dasen?”

“
No. I reached the
conclusion only a few weeks ago and did not want to tell him such
news in a letter.”

“
And you have called on me
because you think he will not take the news kindly?”

“
That is my fear. You know
his passion for study, but it is not appropriate for a boy of his
age, at least not one who will not seek his calling in interpreting
the Order. He needs to get out from behind the university walls and
learn about the real world.” Ipid remembered too late who he was
speaking to. “Petr, you know that I value learning as much as any
man. My contributions to building schools, to your own university
show that, but formal learning can only take a man so
far.”

“
I suppose it depends on
the man. Perhaps, this is Dasen’s place in the Order.”

Ipid’s blood ran cold.
This line of reasoning was exactly what he feared.
Has Dasen already talked with the di valati? Have
they come to an agreement?
He could not
lose the boy to the Hall of Understanding. He could not. “Are you
saying his place in the Order is with the Church?” he asked
cautiously. He held his breath waiting for a response.

“
No, no,” Petr assured.
“You misunderstand me. Though I think he certainly has the ability
to become a great and honored interpreter of the Order, I do not
think it is his place to do so within the confines of the Church.
His intellect is so sharp, his ability to see the Order so profound
that I fear the Church would actually constrain him. We need men
who can see beyond what we know and find the Order in the unknown.
If you promise not to repeat this, I will confide that to be the
greatest weakness of our beloved Church. It is and always has been
an excellent arbiter of what is known but is too rigid to see and
understand new patterns, to delve deeper into the nature of the
Order. That is why the world stagnated under the Church’s long
reign and why we have seen such growth since it was returned to its
rightful place. You, Ipid Ronigan, are possibly the best existing
proof of that.”

Ipid was suddenly confused. This
seemed counter to everything he knew about Di Valati Alsance. “So
what are you telling me, Petr? Dasen should spend his life studying
but not become a counselor, not join the conclave in the Hall of
Understanding? How would he support himself and his
family?”

The old di valati smiled at that. “I
somehow doubt his family will starve,” he said. “But I . . . .” A
heavy knock at the door cut off the thought. “That must be Dasen.
Please let him in. I will tell you both my thoughts if the opening
presents itself. I know your skepticism, Ipid, and in many cases I
would agree. But you have to trust me that Dasen is a special case.
You may not see the value of his study, but it is there. I believe
it may be far more important than any contributions he could make
to Ronigan & Galbridge.”

#

By the time they had walked across the
university grounds, out the main gate, and through a half-a-mile of
bustling streets to the manor that served as Ipid’s offices in
Liandrin, Dasen’s fear had galvanized into resolution. The walk had
given him the time to gather his thoughts, form a plan, and prepare
his arguments. Though Rynn prattled on for the entire trip, he did
not hear a word. He considered what he would say to his father
until he was sure he had covered every possibility. He felt his
commitment growing with every step, knew exactly what he wanted and
what he would sacrifice to have it.

As they approached the
gate to the manor, he finished the last bite of the sausage bun he
had quickly purchased from the first vendor outside the university
gates. He had barely tasted it. A few minutes later, Elton was
leading him to the door of his father’s office. When the door was
opened, Dasen strode defiantly to stand between his father and, to
his great surprise, Di Valati Alsance. The presence of the
university rector stopped Dasen cold. He quickly considered what it
could mean.
Has he already turned the
rector against me?
He knew that his father
had contributed generously to the university, but could Di Valati
Alsance be bought? Either way, the fact that he was here,
consulting with his father, did not bode well. He felt his anxiety
rising as he tried not to stare, pleading, at the
rector.

Rather than acknowledge his son, Ipid
glared at Rynn. “Elton, please take Rynn and wait in the outer
corridor,” he ordered.

Dasen heard Rynn yelp as
Elton herded him out the door. He turned quickly, but Elton was
already shutting the door behind him. He turned back and saw his
father inspecting him. Dasen did the same and was surprised by what
he saw.
There is worry in his eyes. And he
looks so old. When did his hair become so grey? When did all those
creases appear around his eyes? Has he really gained that much
weight? How could he have changed so much in so little time?
Or was it that he had not really
seen
his father in a
much longer time than that. They had been together, certainly, but
at uncomfortable dinners separated by a long table, in darkened
offices after for one-sided lectures. But there had been other
invitations that Dasen had ignored: offers to visit mills, to
observe negotiations, to meet business partners. His father had
tried to include him in his life, Dasen supposed, it was just not
what any sane person would consider a life.

Finally, Ipid forced a smile. “Thank
you for coming, Dasen. I hope we are not inconveniencing
you?”