From Across the Clouded Range (4 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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Lily’s smile lit the room. She smirked
at Elton as she laced her arm through Dasen’s. “That would be most
welcome.” She led Dasen around the other side of the shelves so
that they would not have to pass Elton on their way to the stairs.
She held his arm in both of hers and nearly whispered, her sudden
excitement made her words into gasps, “If your father’s business
will keep him in Liandrin for a few weeks, he is, of course,
welcome to accompany you to the hunt. My father has long desired a
meeting with him. You know, we have some bountiful woodland tracts
that are ripe for harvest. I am sure they would be so tied up
together that we could sneak away and have some time to
ourselves.”

Dasen wanted to scream at her to stop,
but he, somehow, kept the smile glued to his face. Despite the
offer inherent in Lily’s words, his heart sank. He had always known
that this was about his father, about his money, but couldn’t she
have let him imagine otherwise? Tall, gangly, and unkempt, Dasen
knew that the girls weren’t after his fine looks. He would never
win a coin in the university’s annual games. He could not hunt,
could barely stay on a horse, and was a terrible conversationalist.
He lacked social grace and aristocratic training. He was really
nothing more than a homely scholar with a rich father. Even if a
woman like Lily Harbisher lavished him with attention, it was not
him that she wanted.

He looked down at Lily’s doe eyes and
felt himself grow sick. Could he love a girl knowing that she was
only interested in his fortune? Even one as beautiful and beguiling
as Lily Harbisher?


Lord Ronigan has never
hunted in his life, and I doubt he has any interest in starting
now.” Elton ended Dasen’s contemplation. He stood before them at
the foot of the stairs. “Lady Harbisher, I assume you and your maid
can find your way from here. You need only climb to the
top.”


But surely, you will not
stand in the way of Lord Ronigan’s honor. He has offered to escort
me, and I have accepted.”

Elton merely stepped aside and
gestured to the stairs. When Lily tried to lead Dasen past, Elton
wrenched him from her grip and motioned her on.

Lily huffed, “Sir, let me assure you
that the senior Lord Ronigan will hear about the poor manners you
have displayed, and I hope that he will not spare in his efforts to
teach you your proper place among your betters.”

Elton did not bother to respond, which
seemed only to amplify her displeasure. She puffed herself up to
argue further, but Dasen spared her. “It is no use, my lady. Elton
is a Morg, and they speak their minds at all times without the
slightest concern for politics. If Elton does not wish me to escort
you, he has a reason and will not be deterred.” He felt the air
leave him. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to remain in Lily
Harbisher’s company, but it should at least be his, not his
father’s, choice. “I will be sure to pass your invitation along to
my father. I hope we will be able to see each other again
soon.”


I hope so.” Lily
hesitated, seemed to sense Dasen’s defeat and not know how to
respond to it. “Good day,” she finally offered and drifted
carefully up the spiral of stairs. Her silent maid followed close
behind.

When she had reached the top, Elton
turned to Dasen. “Is that the kind of girl you want, all gussied up
and full of fluff?”


He likes her intellect,”
Rynn corrected.

Elton gave him another swat. “What a
waste. You know she only wants your money. She’s no better than a
whore in the end.” Seeing Dasen’s mood darken, Elton lowered his
voice. “Aw now, don’t be like that. You can do better, Dasen, a lot
better. I’ve known you longer than you’ve known yourself, and
believe me when I tell you that the right girl is out there. One
that’ll love you for who you are, not what you’ll
inherit.”


That’s not it, Elton,”
Dasen moaned. “I know why you’re here. It’s over isn’t it? He’s
come to take me away.”


I don’t know, Dasen,”
Elton sighed. “Maybe, but you never know with your father. He
hasn’t told me anything about what we’re doin’ here. He seems
troubled lately. I worry about him. Now come along. Your father is
anxious to see you. He may not show it well, but he really does
miss you.”


Thank you, Elton.” Dasen
felt heartened by the big man’s smile. The Morg sometimes seemed
more of a father to him than the man who employed him. “Can Rynn
come with us?”


Your father won’t like
it, but I can’t very well stop him from following, can
I?”

 

#

 


After all this time, I
cannot express how strongly I anticipate seeing you and welcoming
you officially as my daughter. All my love.” Ipid sat back in the
leather bound chair and sighed long and deep. He brought his hands
up and drove his palms to his eyes. “What am I doing, Paul? You
have read her letters. Do you think she will hate me?”


I think they both will,
sir, but what alternative does Tethina have? Maybe you should tell
her why you are doing this.”


Tell her what, Paul, that
her aunt, the woman who has raised her since she was six, is
dying?” Ipid exclaimed. “I would love to tell her, but I can’t. It
is not my news to deliver. And without that, I can’t very well tell
her that when her aunt dies her custody will shift to her scheming
uncle, that he will sell her like a cow to the highest bidder, that
her new husband will really be buying the rights to half of what I
have built, that he will have no interest in or need for her.” Ipid
realized that he was yelling. He took a breath to calm himself.
“I’m sorry, Paul. This is not your fault. I created this problem
and have no right to vent my frustrations on you.”

Ipid sat back and took another deep
breath. “I never should have structured Ronigan & Galbridge as
a partnership. But how was I to know? Out of nowhere, I get a
windfall. Some counselor finds me and tells me that I have Imperial
blood. That the Church has been holding funds left by my
great-great-great-grandfather when he went into hiding in Randor’s
Pass, of all places. It was too good to be true, but it was exactly
what I had been searching for, the financing I needed.


It was enough to build
the first three mills and secure the lumber contracts to supply
them. And because he helped me design the blades we made and used,
helped me develop the automated process, I made my best friend a
full partner. As I was signing the contract to create that
partnership, as you were writing the contract . . .,” Ipid paused
for another breath. “Well, you know what was happening in Randor’s
Pass. And when I returned and found out. I couldn’t very well
remove Burke then, could I? And I wouldn’t have wanted to. He
deserves half of everything, and I would give the whole thing to
have him and Marin and especially Kira back. But no amount of money
could do that, so I built this partnership, kept his name on it, as
a memorial to what he had given me.


If only I could have
brought Tethina with me, adopted her then as my own. But you know
the law. I only kept Dasen because he had no living female
relatives and even that took a fight. Tethina had to go to her
aunt, and she wouldn’t leave Randor’s Pass if the Exiles came
riding in. But I didn’t account for the fact that Milne was fifteen
years older than Marin, that she might get sick, that she might die
before Dasen and Tethina were ready to be joined.” Ipid sighed and
sat forward with his elbows on the surface of the polished
black-oak desk before him. He rubbed its cool surface and felt
somehow reassured. “Thank you for listening to me, Paul. I know
you’ve heard it all before, but sometimes, I just need to let it
out.”


It is my job, sir.” Paul
had been Ipid’s personal secretary since the beginning, had been
with him in the aftermath of the most terrible possible loss, the
creation of a mercantile empire, the rising political career. He
knew Ipid better than any person in the world. He had seen the
genius, the drive, the Order-divined luck that had made all this
possible. He knew everyone of Ipid demons, knew what they had done
to him and his son. Ipid could not tell him anything that he did
not already know, but sometimes, he just had to talk to someone.
Ever since the loss of his best friends, his wife, he had been so
alone. He had business associates, partners, employees, but no
friends, no one to confide in except the man he paid to write his
letters and contracts.

Ipid chortled, “I don’t think I pay
you enough, Paul. But I’m afraid if I pay you more, you won’t need
to work for me any longer. It is quite a dilemma. I should ask
Dasen if his research into the order of labor has given him any
insights into that.”

Paul only smiled. He was likely the
best paid secretary in the known world. Ipid knew that he had the
resources to leave at any time, but, thankfully, he never did. “Do
you want me to read the letter back to you, sir?”


No. I trust you got
everything, and I don’t really want to hear how much you improved
my muddled words. Bring it here, and I’ll sign it.”

Paul rose from his small writing desk
and carried the single page of stark white parchment to Ipid. The
paper came from his newest mill and was made with a recently
developed process. The quality was good, thinner and lighter than
traditional paper but just as strong. The consistency of color was
excellent, stark white with few imperfections. Best of all, it cost
a fraction of a sheet made using traditional methods. The engineers
who had developed the process were worth every penny. Once they
perfected the technique at this mill, he would add paper production
to every one of his sawmills. In a few years, he would
revolutionize paper production and make another fortune in the
process. How could Dasen not be excited about this?

Ipid scanned down the paper. He
grunted and nodded approvingly at the most obvious of Paul’s
changes then signed his name in modest, efficient
strokes.


Get that in the post
today, please. It’s a long trip to Randor’s Pass, and I want it
there well before we arrive. And be sure to include the one to the
counselor with it.”


Should I hire a
long-distance courier or use one of the services? Though expensive,
the courier is much faster and more reliable. I don’t think you
want . . . .”


Stop it, Paul. You don’t
have to convince me. Find the best courier you can. Pay him as much
as you need to. By the Order, copy the letter and hire ten of them.
It’s not like I don’t have the money.”


Yes, sir.” Paul sanded
and blotted the ink then folded the letter, placed it carefully in
an envelope, and sealed it using the sigil on his desk.

As he reached for the door, there was
a knock. He opened it and exchanged a few words with the young man
waiting in the alcove. “Sir, Di Valati Alsance has arrived. Shall I
ask him to join you?”

Ipid looked up from the stack of
reports he was reading in momentary confusion. Paul drew the breath
to repeat himself, but Ipid stopped him, “Yes, of course, do not
leave him waiting. Is Dasen here yet? I expected him some time
ago.”


No, sir. Elton sent a
runner who said that Dasen was not in his room. He is looking for
him.”

Ipid’s brow
furrowed.
What is Dasen thinking? He’s not
a defiant boy. Does he know what this was about? Surely he could
speculate; he is by the Order smart. But he wouldn’t hide, would
he?
“That is disappointing. I hate to keep
Di Valati Alsance waiting. Please have Kors step in and send up
some tea, whatever the valati prefers.”


Of course, sir.” Paul
stepped out of the room then returned to his desk and arranged his
papers, ink, and pens.

A few minutes later, a red haired boy
of sixteen threw the door open and announced, “My lord, the Rector
of Liandrin University, Di Valati Alsance, to see you.”


May you find peace in the
Order,” the di valati offered as he brushed past the apprentice. He
wore a simple brown woolen robe that revealed only his nearly bald
head and sandaled feet. A fine chain of superior craftsmanship with
delicate, seamless links held his robe. Hanging from the last of
those links were intricately cast rising suns. A similar depiction
of the rising sun done in carefully carved and polished wood hung
from a leather cord around his neck to show that he was joined to
the Order, had chosen Its mysteries as his mate. The rector’s face
was every bit as plain as his dress. He was an old man but sturdy
and well kept. The few hairs that remained on his head had been cut
to white stubble. His face was clean shaven, making his long nose,
large ears, and shaggy white brows even more prominent. But it was
his piercing blue eyes that most people remembered about him. They
seemed to look straight through a person, to see the Order’s exact
plan for them.

Ipid rose immediately from his desk
and approached the di valati with hand outstretched. “Thank you for
coming, your Excellency. Dasen and I are in need of your renowned
skill in interpreting the Order’s divine will.”


For my top student and
one of the university’s great benefactors, I am always available,”
the di valati replied with a genuine smile, “but you know better
than to use titles against me. I, like you, am but a cog in the
Order’s great machine. Such thinking may be old fashioned, but you,
of all people, should know that no piece of a machine is more
important than any other. And thus all deserve the same reverence.
Please call me Petr.”

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