From Across the Clouded Range (71 page)

With that understanding, branches
moved from his path, rocks and stones melted away to form a steady
terrain, and bushes parted to allow his passage. Nature itself bent
to his will because it could no longer hide, could no longer hold
sway over his fate. Knowing where every whisper of wind would blow,
he turned so that it always blew at his back. Knowing where every
cloud would appear in the darkening sky, he ran so that he was in
constant shadow while his path was brightly lit. Knowing how the
ground beneath him had been composed, he stepped so that it sprang
back and launch him forward. Everything was revealed, and he used
every scrap of knowledge to propel himself from the dreadful
clearing.

Dasen did not know what he
was doing or how, but at that moment, he felt as one with the
world, as one with the Order. Not one
with
the Order, he realized,
one
above
that
order. He still had freewill. The Order did not guide him, did not
force him to a path. He could still act as he wanted, could use his
freewill to manipulate the Order to his ends.

I am the Order. There is
nothing I cannot do, no outcome that I cannot create.
With that realization, he began to trace the
strands around him. He saw the links that wove together the
invading army, the creatures, the forest, and himself. And seeing
those links, he knew what he had to do to stop it. It was so easy,
a few gestures, the moving of air, the snapping of a twig, the
crumpling of a leaf would start the chain reaction that would bring
an end to this war. He slowed. It was so easy. All he had to do was
reach out his hand and . . .

Something struck him full in the back
and sent him flying forward. He hit the ground hard, smashed under
the weight on his back. The air rushed from of his lungs. He
sputtered.

The knowledge began to fade. He
reached for it. It was so close.

He gasped for air, but his lungs would
not fill. Blackness was threatening to overtake him.

So close, and it would be all
over.

His body screamed, but his lungs had
no answer.

The understanding began to shatter,
pulled apart by desperation. He struggled to hold it, to remember
what he had seen, but he could not maintain it.

Another gasp. Air came in, but
enlightenment was gone, lost like a dream.

At that same moment, the Order
wrenched back control of his body, and he knew what it was like to
die. He had recovered his ability to breathe, but his body was
beyond desperation. Every corner begged for air, ached to be
replenished, rebelled against the abuse it had received. He
writhed, gasping and coughing in sputtering intervals. It felt as
if his entire body might erupt. His stomach was heaving. His heart
felt like it would beat out of his chest. His head was pounding.
His ears rang. His back burned, felt torn and wet beyond the sweat
that covered him. He gnashed his teeth between coughs that bent him
in half. He would have cried out if he could have managed it
through the wheezing and twitching.

It seemed like an eternity that he lay
there unable to do anything but serve the whims of his mutinous
body, but the pain and coughing eventually subsided enough that he
regained a modicum of control. The thought came to him then, as if
through fog, that something had knocked him to the ground. That
thought connected with the memory of the creatures. . .
.

His head shot up. He first noticed
that it was very much darker than he remembered it being. The stars
were hidden by clouds, which were spouting widely dispersed but
heavy drops. His eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness, but he did
not see anything that looked like a threat, no lizardmen, no
spike-tailed monsters. He felt at his burning back, felt the torn
flesh oozing red, knew he should do something about that, but his
head only wanted to return to the soft ground. His arms trembled as
they held his torso suspended off the ground. The rain fell harder,
building to a downpour. His entire body trembled with the slightest
exertion, begging, insisting on rest.

Something hit me.
Something knocked me down. I’m bleeding. I’m not safe.
And where is Teth?
The
thoughts echoed through his mind, until the last, a question,
provided the answer. Finally, he noticed the pressure on his legs,
the gasping breaths rising over the patter of the rain. He ran his
hand down and felt Teth’s wet hair, her soft cheek, and with a
sigh, the blackness took him.

Chapter 32

Dasen was cold. He shivered, reached
for a blanket, hugged himself reflexively, began rolling to his
side. Pain encompassed him. His back was on fire. His legs cramped.
His head throbbed. Every part of him seemed to have a complaint,
and they registered them in a collective roar.

Frozen for fear of
encouraging his miseries, he gnashed his teeth and stared up at the
broad leaves a few inches from his face. Risking the movement of
his head – which ignited a stabbing kink in his neck – he looked to
the side. He was surrounded by the stubby branches of an
unidentified bush, its leaves stacked in layers to block any view
of the sky. He was cold and wet. Big drops of water pounded his
bare chest and ran down his stomach to the rough ground where he
had slept. But it was not rough ground that held his screaming
back. He felt like he was lying on a woolen lump that cast his head
back at a horrible, kink-inducing angle.
It must be protecting the cuts
, he
realized.
Teth saved me again, patched me
up, and pulled me under this bush out of the rain. And all I did
was sleep.

Kicking himself, he
listened for his wife. He heard birds, the scuttle of squirrels in
the trees, the dripping of water from leaves, but no Teth.
Probably hunting, getting water, foraging. Taking
care of me.
With a sigh, he cast aside his
miseries, slowly rolled onto his stomach, and, in grunting
shuffles, crawled from his sanctuary.

Once outside, he sat for a long moment
with his blanket-cushioned back resting against a tree and watched
the grey sky through the canopy of leaves high above. He looked
down at the two strips of cloth that were tied across his chest to
hold the folded blanket. The cuts that the makeshift bandage
protected burned from shoulder to shoulder as if they had just been
made.

With the thought, he
scanned the trees.
Maybe Teth put me under
that bush for a reason. Maybe I was supposed to stay there. Maybe
the forest isn’t safe.
Heart rate rising,
he watched the trees, studied each shadow, every hint of movement
for metal-clad creatures. But there was nothing but widely spaced
trees with broad trunks and great, broad canopies.

Then he heard humming. It was coming
from behind him, soft and steady, an after-thought of the hummer.
The tune was familiar, but Dasen could not place it until a few
mumbled words drifting through the trees,

So, we sang and danced and
ran

Through the trees and the
glen

On the day of sky and
sun

Then we rested like the
rest

Slept beneath the stars
and

Woke to a world of
mist

Dasen groaned.
How could she like that song?
"The Season of Sun and Cloud," as he knew it, was one of the
sappiest, most manipulative, and most commonly performed songs in
the history of traveling minstrels. All screeching high notes and
long, dramatic pauses, it told the story of two lovers who ran away
when they were not allowed to be joined. They intended to build a
life in the city, but the Order punished them with an array of
tragedies, and they died in the glen of a forest where two trees
eventually grew twinned together. It was meant to be sad but had
become such a cliché that it was more of a joke than a tragedy. And
that was what Teth was humming? Every time he had tried to hum a
song, she had scolded him for not being quiet. But here she was
singing (very poorly) the worst song imaginable.

Building to the climax with
intermittent hums and words – all of which were out of key – Teth
emerged from the trees, saw Dasen, and immediately fell silent. She
blushed, red rising to banish the freckles that stretched from her
nose. “You’re awake?” she asked in surprise. “I was just getting
something for your back.” She held up a handful of blue
moss.

“
The Season of Sun and
Cloud?” Dasen did not feel any more words were required.

“
Shut up! I’ll hum
whatever I want. We don’t get minstrels in Randor’s Pass very
often. We don’t have orchestras, or operas. That’s the song I know,
and I like it, so there!”

Dasen smiled. Even through his
miseries, he was happy to see Teth, and, for once, she was the one
on the defensive. “Well, that’s one thing we’ll fix when we get to
a city.”

“
Or maybe I’ll hire
someone to sing it all day. Over and over until you beg to be back
in the forest.” Teth stuck her tongue out, smiling around the
childish gesture. “Now come over here so I can take a look at your
back. I am mad at you, you know.” She seemed to remember herself.
She forced the smile from her face, turning it into a frown, but
she could not dispel it from her eyes.

Dasen watched her. Her
mud-streaked face was pale. Hair was plastered across her forehead
and along one cheek. It stood in the back, longing to be tamed by
the hat she had apparently lost. Her clothes were damp and muddy,
clinging to her where they were not stiff, and generously stained
with blood.
Mine
,
Dasen realized. Nonetheless, she was a welcome sight. Even beyond
the fact that she had saved his life yet again, he was suddenly
overjoyed that she had not left him, that he would have another
chance to make things right.

Teth’s eyes caught his. Her forced
frown faded to indecision. Her bottom lip crept under her teeth.
She looked down at herself. “Why are you looking at me like
that?”

“
I’m happy to see you,”
Dasen said honestly. “I thought you’d left me with the forest
masters.”

Teth laughed. “You can’t get rid of me
that easily. Besides, without me around who would keep saving your
sorry life? Now get over here. I’m mad at you, so don’t push your
luck.” She tried to make her voice stern but she had neither the
will nor energy for the effort. She sighed instead, revealing the
crushing fatigue that she was just barely holding at bay. She
suddenly looked like she had not slept in days. Her eyes glazed,
and she looked like she might fall asleep where she stood. Then she
snapped back, shook her head, and yawned. Finally, she motioned to
Dasen, so he slowly, painfully pulled himself up and walked
haltingly to her.

“
Serves you right,” she
said as he approached. "First you get yourself captured by the
forest masters. Then you tell them who I am, tell them I’m a girl.”
At this, her anger returned in earnest. “After I specifically told
you not to. And as a result, I have to spend the whole afternoon
dodging those idiots. No food, no fire, no sitting by a tree for
me.”

“
So why didn’t you just
come out? So they knew you were a girl, they’re on our side. You
could have trusted them.” The statement sent a pang through Dasen
as he remembered the slaughter in the camp. The distorted, dying
faces of the officers flashed before his eyes, and he felt his
knees wobble, his stomach churn.

“
You alright?” Teth asked,
pulling him from the horror of his memories.

“
I was just thinking about
what happened in the camp. Those things . . . those . . . creatures
killed them all. Right before my eyes. And I would have been next.
By the Order, it was . . . .”

“
Stop it,” Teth commanded.
“If you keep dwelling on it, you’ll be stuck there forever. Let it
go. They’re gone. We’re alive, and if we want to stay that way, we
can’t let the dead pull us down.” She paused and sighed, looked
like she was suddenly feeling the same remorse she had told him to
ignore. “Milne always said, ‘ghosts can either teach us or chase
us, and you get to pick which.’” She stopped again, closed her
eyes, and mumbled to herself. “In any case, they’re gone,” then
under her breath, “and just as well.”

Dasen was appalled by the last. “How
could you say that? They served the Kingdom’s loyally, had fought
the invaders. They didn’t deserve to die like that.”

Teth laughed. “Are you always this
naïve?” she sneered. “Somehow you think all men are like you, that
they are all kind and honorable, that they wouldn’t ever hurt an
innocent girl they find in the forest. Well, we’ve clearly had
different experiences.”

“
What did you think was
going to happen? They’re the forest masters. They exist to protect
people.”

Teth just laughed again, but it held
no humor. “Whatever you say, my husband. I’m just a humble woman
who’s lived with the bastards my entire life. Clearly I don’t know
what I’m talking about.” With that she untied the straps that held
the blanket to his back. Unleashed, most of it fell to the ground,
streaming down from where it was stuck to his back like a cape. The
pain that tugging ignited in his back cut off his attempt to ask
what had happened to produce such loathing for the men who were
sworn to protect her. Clearly they didn’t like her either, but she
seemed to honestly hate – and fear – them.