From Across the Clouded Range (17 page)

Recovered, he examined the gabble
topped houses before him. They looked remarkably like those in the
other villages they had passed: overlapping grey planks, small
windows with stout shutters, moss speckled wood shingles, small
stone chimneys. They stood in well-spaced rows, the generous garden
behind each revealing a bounty of nascent vegetables. Walking past
the first row, he admired the flowers peeking from window boxes,
small wild flowers so unlike the roses, irises, and lilies he was
used to seeing. Grass and an occasional plank fence separated the
front of one row from the back of the next. On a few of the
porches, women sat sewing, trimming vegetables, or tending to young
children. Others worked the gardens with children at their sides,
weeds in hand. Dasen waved at a cluster who caught his eye. The
youngest child waved back enthusiastically but the others looked
past him, almost in disdain.

Dasen tried not to think about it as
he turned onto the town’s one dirt road. At the east end was the
village green, a large field of grass marked by the dozen sheep
that trimmed it. Along its back end, in the shelter of the trees
was the village church, a broad structure without any adornment to
show its significance in the villager’s lives. The raised stone
dais where the weekly lessons and judgments were conducted in the
warmer months stood in the middle of the grass. In only a few
hours, Dasen would be standing there for his joining ceremony.
Despite his new outlook, his pulse quickened and breath caught at
the thought.

Turning away from the
green, Dasen watched the curving shape of what the villagers called
the “old bridge” in the distance. It was an impressive white stone
bridge wide enough for two wagons to pass abreast. Despite its
grandeur, the villagers ignored it – it was common belief that the
other side of the river was cursed. No one seemed to remember when
it had been built, but local legend said the bridge had been built
by Xionious Valatarian and used to cast the Exiles from the world.
Such literal interpretations of
The Book
of Valatarian
were not commonly accepted
these days, and even so, the holy text stated that Valatarian had
cast the Exiles out from the rock of Sal Danar, over a thousand
miles away. Dasen guessed that the bridge had simply been built in
the early days of the Empire, when many projects were undertaken
with no more purpose than some valati’s fevered interpretation of
the Order’s will.

Promising himself some time to study
the bridge further, Dasen turned into the village inn. Barring the
church, it was the town’s largest structure, standing two full
stories and spread across what would have been two or three
standard lots. Inside was as large a common room as Dasen had seen
since they left Wildern, but unlike the backroom in Potter’s Place,
it was entirely utilitarian. A dozen long tables defined the space
in two rows with stout benches on either side as the only seats.
The plank floor was covered with a layer of sawdust. The enormous
hearth was at one end so that patrons either roasted or froze. The
windows were small and high. The only other light came from a
paltry few candles on each table. The room was sweltering hot and
smelled of stale drink, burnt meat, and sweat.

Dasen brought his hand to his nose to
block the odor and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim light.
To his surprise, only two of the inn’s tables were occupied. The
one closest to the bar, held the dozen guards who had accompanied
them on the trip. They spoke boisterously, raising cups and
laughing, obviously glad to be at their destination. Sitting alone
at the other end of the room as close to an open window as he could
get was Rynn.

He jumped from his seat when he saw
Dasen. The bored expression evaporated from his face, replaced by a
knowing grin. “How did it go? Did she kill a buck with her bare
hands and offer you its heart?”

“
Not funny.” Dasen pulled
off his jacket, loosened his scarf, unbuttoned his collar, and sat
down across from his friend. He pulled a pristine white
handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his brow. “By the Order,
it’s hot here. There’s no chance they have ice is
there?”

Rynn laughed and showed Dasen his
wooden cup. “Ice? They don’t even have wine. I’m drinking some kind
of homebrewed mead. It practically hot and tastes like the inside
of a bee’s ass. I also think I got a splinter in my lip from this
thing they call a cup. Do they realize that not everything needs to
be made out of wood?”

“
They use what they
have.”

“
I suppose, but how is a
gentile young lord like me supposed to survive here until such time
as the other coach is repaired? In this heat, with nothing to drink
but bee piss, I may wither away by the time they find a new
axle.”

“
It will be good for you.
Just think, you may receive a position in a village like this after
you take your vows. Perhaps, you should spend your time speaking
with the counselor, learning how to teach and judge among the
common man.”

Rynn opened his mouth but was at a
rare loss for words. He scanned the common room again and
shuddered. In all likelihood, Rynn’s father would secure him a
position as a counselor on his estates. That was the common
strategy of the Liandrin nobility, install a family member as local
counselor and guarantee yourself favorable judgments in any
disputes. But Rynn clearly did not like the topic. He shook off the
thought, leaned across the table, and smiled devilishly. “So, tell
me about her. The wife of my best friend, it is almost like I am
joining her as well.”

Dasen caught the eye of the innkeeper
and motioned for two more drinks. Surprisingly, the man just
scowled. “She was definitely different,” Dasen started, unsure how
to frame his thoughts. “She is not unattractive, cute in some ways,
but not what you would ever think of as a girl.” Rynn raised an
eyebrow at that. “I mean, she is definitely a girl, but there isn’t
a soft curve on her. She is not some muscle-bound thug, but she
doesn’t have a scrap of fat either. I don’t know how to describe
it, strange, I guess, but not all bad.”

“
Sounds like you’re
hooked. Besides, she’ll round out nicely once you get a bun in that
oven. That fills everything out. Trust me, my brother’s wife was
skinny as a sapling until he got a baby in her. After that,
everything rounded out. My brother was a happy man.”

“
We’ll have to wait a
while for that.”

“
So you’re telling me that
you are going to get joined, keep her in your house, teach her to
be a proper lady, defend her from her detractors but not enjoy any
of the fruits of your labors? I can’t believe you. If I could get
joined, I don’t even think I’d wait until I got to a bed. I’d
probably lay her down right there on the dais and . . .
.”

“
I think I get the
picture, but I can’t take any chances. Di Valati Alsance was very
clear, if Tethina catches a baby, we’re both out. There’s no way I
can risk that.”

The presence of the innkeeper with
their drinks interrupted Dasen. He set the cups down then waited
for Rynn to finish his so that he could take the cup. Rynn winced
but immediately raised the second cup. “To Tethina. May she forego
her wild ways in every place but your bed.”

“
You’re incorrigible.”
Dasen smirked but tapped glasses with his friend and drank. “By the
Order, you weren’t joking. This is awful.” Too late, Dasen realized
that the innkeeper was lingering behind him. “Awfully good,” he
corrected quickly. But Rynn’s laugh set off his own, ruining any
chance of forgiveness. The innkeeper scoffed and went to refill the
guards’ cups.

A few moments later, as Dasen was
contemplating which was worse the mead or Tethina’s tea, the inn’s
door flew open with a crash. Dasen looked up to see a half-dozen
young men march through. They were all solidly built, well shorter
than him but with broad shoulders and thick limbs. They wore crude
homespun wool shirts with laces untied to reveal their muscular
chests, heavy canvas pants, and leather vests. One of them carried
a big earthenware jug, and they walked with the loose movements of
those who have been into their drinks. They stared around the inn
as their eyes adjusted. Then one of them saw Dasen. He patted the
ox of a man who must have been their leader and whispered in his
ear. Finally, with broad smiles, they approached.

Ipid’s guards intercepted them. “There
are plenty of empty tables by the hearth,” their captain, a man
named Morgan, advised. His hand pressed into the shirt of the
biggest boy. He was taller than the villager but gave up at least
thirty pounds. The other guards arrayed automatically around the
boys. None of them carried weapons, but they were all experienced
soldiers who could handle themselves with fists as well as
swords.

“
It’s too hot ta be by the
fire taday,” the villager responded with a smile. “Besides, I just
wanted ta offer the groom a drink. Shouldn’t someone be sending him
off ta his joinin’? Don’t look like you lot’s gonna do it, so
thought we’d help ya out.” He looked at Dasen with a sly grin and
raised his hands innocently. “Course, you all are welcome ta join
us, if ya want.”

Morgan looked back at Dasen. He felt
somewhat embarrassed by the guards’ actions and motioned them away.
“I appreciate your vigilance, Morgan, but I’m sure they mean no
harm, and you are right here if we need you.”

“
Very well, sir,” Morgan
nodded, but he locked eyes with each of the villagers before he
finally removed his hand and motioned his fellows back to their
table.

The villagers laughed and took seats
around Dasen and Rynn. “So yir the one’s gonna be tamin’ our
wildcat? Best of luck ta ya,” the biggest man said as he sat next
to Dasen. He smelled of sweat and alcohol and pine. He clapped
Dasen on the back, nearly sending him into the table. “What’re ya
drinkin’ there? Is that ol’ man Sherbourn’s mead? That’s fine, but
not fir an occasion like this.” He pointed to one of his fellows.
“Jeb, get us some cups.” A boy a few years younger than the others
– they were all near Dasen’s age – stumbled to his feet and
returned a moment later with his hands full of cups.

“
My name’s Pete. This is
Ben, Terl, Sam, Jeb, and Reg.” The big villager introduced his
fellows as he poured a generous splash of clear liquid from his jug
into each cup.

Dasen examined the young men. Were
these the boys that Tethina had beat in the races? If so, it was an
even more impressive feat. He eyed the cup before him. “I am
Dasen,” he offered his hand to Pete, “and this is Rynn. It appears
you already know who we are and why we’re here.”

“
You could say that,” Pete
confirmed. He clasped Dasen’s hand in his great paw and crushed it.
Dasen tried not to flinch, but obviously failed as Pete broke into
a laugh. He was missing a few teeth, but the alcohol on his breath
was sweet not sour.

“
Sorry ‘bout that,” he
chuckled, “Us loggers got strong ‘ands.” He held his hand up. It
was as big as a plate with thick, sturdy fingers and heavy
callouses. “Heavin’ axes and pullin’ saws’ll do that. Now, let’s
drink.” He held up his cup and motioned to Dasen to do the same.
“Ta tamin’ wildcats!” Pete declared. He bashed his cup into Dasen’s
then slammed down the contents like water. Throwing caution to the
wind, Dasen did the same. The liquor hit the back of his throat
like fire, but he choked it down more easily than he expected and
felt it warm his insides all the way down. To his surprise, the
liquor was good. It burned his mouth and throat but left a
lingering taste of herbs and berries, none of which he could
clearly place.

“
Ya like that?” Pete
asked. “It’s yir da’s recipe. He called it wilderness wine, an’
they still make it at his ol’ shop. Prob’ly the best thing he ever
did fir this town.”

Dasen looked at his glass, smacked his
lips, the spared a glance at Rynn. He obviously approved as
well.

“
I’m sorry ta say this
jugs ‘bout done,” Pete said. “And we don’ git paid till First Day.
Tis terr’ble manners, I know, but if ya had a coin, Jeb could get
us another’n before they close up down at the shop.”

Rynn beat Dasen to an answer. “By all
means,” he declared pulling a full silver mark from the pocket of
his vest. “I should be hosting this party. I’ll gladly buy the
refreshments, especially if they’re of this quality.”

Jeb snatched the coin with a longing
look then caught Pete’s eye before running from the inn. While he
was gone, Pete poured the remainder of his jug into Dasen, Rynn,
and his own cup. “Thank ya, sir,” he saluted Rynn, “yir a real
gentleman.” They drank. Dasen felt his stomach warm, his vision
blur, and his face begin to tingle. He had not had anything to eat
since they arrived in town hours ago, and the alcohol was going
straight to his head.

“
So, Dasen,” Pete said. He
placed a hand on his shoulder and lowered his voice. “Can I give
ya’ some advice ‘bout our lil Tethina?”

Something told Dasen that this was not
a good idea, but he felt himself nodding. “You’ve known her far
longer than I.”

“
Hmmm,” Pete grinned.
“Sure ‘nough I have.” He looked at his friends. They nodded,
wolfish smiles appearing on their faces. “You’ll soon see, she’s no
proper lady, ‘bout as far from it as ya can git.”

“
I know of her past, but I
just saw her, and I think she wants to change. I think she realizes
the mistakes she has made here and regrets them.”