From Across the Clouded Range (77 page)

Overcome by the horror of those
memories, Ipid retracted. He lunged away so hard that he did not
have time to gather his bearings and did not realize how small his
bed was. Rather than retreating to the other side of the bed or
against a protective wall, he found himself teetering on the edge
of the mattress with momentum against him. The cold hand held him
suspended for a split second, but its tiny owner had no chance of
supporting his more substantial weight. Ipid tumbled to the wooden
floor, narrowly missing a small nightstand with his head. The floor
was unforgiving, but his rump and shoulder caught most of the blow
without serious damage, and it was only a second before he was on
his feet with his hand out to defend himself from the small woman,
who was rounding the bed and closing on him with her hands
outstretched.

“
Are you alright?” she
asked with concern. “I did not mean to startle you.”

“
Stay back!” Ipid pushed
himself into a nearby corner without noticing that he was wearing
nothing more than his underclothes.

The woman stopped and took a step back
but did not appear offended by his posture. She smiled knowingly
and looked him up and down. “Am I so horrific a creature to cause
such fright? A powerful lord like you so easily frightened by
someone so small as me.”

Ipid’s guard began to relax – if she
had wanted to hurt him, it was doubtful that she would have gently
roused him first. He also realized how he must look, cowering
nearly naked in a corner. To solve one of those problems, he
snatched the patterned quilt off of the bed and wrapped it around
his shoulders. The barrier was not enough to keep him from assuming
a bright shade of scarlet.

The woman’s smile grew at his
embarrassment. “Do not be so modest. How do you think you got that
way?”

Ipid added another layer of red at the
connotation. “I don’t care about that,” he lied and gave it away by
pulling the quilt even tighter around his body. “I want to know
what you did last night to bring me here. That . . . that . . .
portal, or whatever it was, was out of a nightmare. Why should I
believe that you are not from that same nightmare?”

“
Such accusations,” the
woman mocked offense. “Just because I am capable of doing things
that you cannot explain does not make me or the things I do evil. I
have, after all, transported you to your destination. I have given
you a chance to save your people. Should it not be the end rather
than the means that you use to judge me?”

She turned her back and walked to a
small chair at the opposite end of the room. From there, she lifted
a set of clothing and carried them to the bed. “Here.” She looked
like she was trying to keep her eyes diverted, but Ipid saw her
furtive glance dart toward him as she sat the clothing down. “You
can dress if you are so embarrassed. Among my people we do not have
such shame of our bodies, but if it makes you more comfortable, I
will turn around. I will also answer any questions you have while
you are dressing and while you break your fast.” She gestured
toward a plate sitting on a small table at the other side of the
bed. It held two fried eggs several fat sausages and a large piece
of toasted bread that had been generously slathered with butter.
Ipid almost dropped his blanket at seeing the feast. “But when you
are finished eating, our conversation must end. You need to be on
your way. Already the morning is fading, and you have much to
accomplish this day.” The small woman smiled and looked him up and
down one more time before turning and walking to the other side of
the room where she stared out a small window.

When he was certain that she could not
see him, Ipid took the blanket from around his shoulders and
grabbed the woolen pants and shirt that he had worn the night
before. As he pulled the pants on, he tried to decide where to
start his questions. “So where are we? You said that you had taken
me to Thoren. Are we actually in the city?”

“
We are in a town near the
city known as Wilmont. This is where the Darthur camp is located.
It is only a short ride to the city.”

“
So we traveled two
hundred miles in one instant last night?”

“
Yes.”

“
How is that possible?”
Ipid was lacing the leather thong that held the top of his rough
shirt closed. “I was certain that we would be riding one of the
stoche, but then you created that thing . . . that portal.” The
thought sent a shiver up his spine and restored his
trepidation.

“
I do not think you would
have liked riding a tal’ ladorim.” The woman giggled. “I don’t know
if anyone has ever tried that before, but I can’t imagine any of
them being very receptive to the idea. No, I created a ‘portal’ as
you called it. That is probably the best term for it. It brought us
to a field close to the city. From there, some of my fellows
carried you here.”

Ipid sat on the bed to pull on his
socks. “What was that portal? How were you able to create
it?”

“
That is a question that I
could never answer in the time we have. Even if I explained it to
you, it would only add to your confusion. Suffice it to say that
we, the te-am’ eiruh as the Darthur call us, have a great variety
of powers that have long been forgotten in your world. They are an
ancient art, a gift to humans from one of our creators, Hilaal we
call him. Our people have long maintained the study of those
powers, protecting them and Hilaal’s creatures from the persecution
of those who could not understand.”

Persecution by the
Church
, Ipid thought. Hilaal was the
brother of Hileil, the creator of the Order. Hileil was a god of
order and understanding. Hilaal was a god of destruction and chaos.
He was the devil. It was Hilaal, in his jealousy over what his
brother had created, that introduced chaos to the world and brought
about the rise of the Lawbreakers that were exiled by Xionious
Valatarian.

Legendary scriptures said that Hilaal
gave his followers the ability to break the laws of the Holy Order.
The result was a terrible time of war between those who followed
the Order and those who could break it. That war raged until
Valatarian formed the Church and established the laws that aligned
his followers to the Order. He was thereby able to turn the Order
against the Lawbreakers and cast them from the world. Most people
did not believe those scriptures any longer. Hilaal and his
followers were little more than boogiemen that were used to
frighten children. Even the Church had disavowed the scriptures as
metaphor. But after last night, Ipid was not so sure. He wondered
if the Darthur were somehow descendants of the evildoers from those
stories, if those stories were real. The thought nearly overran him
until he could only stammer.

“
I know what you are
thinking.” The woman’s voice brought him back from the brink. She
turned from the window. Ipid gawked at her before he realized what
he was doing and turned to his shoes. “Yes, we are the ones that
were cast out by your great hero,
Xionious
Valatarian
.” The name was said with
obvious distaste. “Yes, we worship Hilaal and what you would call
the power of chaos. Yes, we are the Lawbreakers, the Exiles of your
legends. Yes, wars were fought.” Her voice sounded cold and bitter
as if she had been wronged, as if it were Ipid’s fault.

He was put back by the tone, but when
the woman saw his expression, her face softened and so did her
words. “I should not be so brusque. These are old wounds, which
were long ago forgiven. Our people forgave yours for their
prejudices and learned to live in peace. More than your church can
say, I might add.”

Ipid watched the woman warily as she
approached and took a seat on the opposite side of the small table
where the breakfast sat. She motioned for him to sit, but he was
frozen by her words. All his life, the Church had taught him to
fear the temptations of chaos that the Exiles embodied. The thought
of those temptations taking physical form was striking enough; the
idea of sitting to breakfast with one of them was too
much.

“
Again, Lord Ronigan, I
ask you to judge me by my actions not a thousand years of one-sided
stories. My people do study the powers of chaos as your church
would call them, but that power, like any power, is not inherently
evil. It was a gift to this world just as your Order was. We
believe that Hilaal and Hileil were not in conflict when the
created the world, they were in harmony. They wanted order and
chaos to exist in balance. It is our belief that humans can only
achieve their full potential by using those powers together. The
chaos is a part of what we are. It is our freewill. To deny it is
to be enslaved. That is not what our creators intended. They were
not building a clock. They were creating a world with creatures
that could make their own decisions. That could surprise even
them.”

With some trepidation, Ipid took his
seat across from the small woman. The conviction of her words
somehow reassured him, but he still did not understand them and
knew that he would have to ponder all of this before he came to a
conclusion of his own. In the meantime, he had to be infinitely
cautious. He had very literally just sat to tea with the
devil.

“
Cannot even your Order be
corrupted?” the woman continued. She sounded like she had given
this lecture many times and was well practiced at it. “Think of the
oppressive, corrupt laws throughout your history, and even now,
that keep men in chains without justification. Is not that
enslavement far more horrible than the expression of freewill that
is inherent in my powers?”

“
Can we continue this
conversation later?” Ipid’s head was swimming. He was not prepared
for a philosophical debate the likes of which he had not pondered
since his time at university, and he did need information, even if
it came from the very mouth of evil. “By your own admission, I only
have until I am finished with my breakfast, and given the rumbling
in my stomach, that will not be long.”

The woman laughed, a delicate sound
that fit her slight stature, and nodded. “How rude of me. Of course
you have more pressing concerns. Please, forgive me. I have become
overly protective of my beliefs. What else would you like to
know?”

Ipid was caught by the
small dimples in her cheeks, and it took him a moment to gather
himself. Could what she was saying be true? She certainly did not
look like a devil. A thousand years was a long time. Perhaps the
Exiles
had
learned to live in peace, perhaps there
was
a balance. It was a reasonable
thought, but not one to be decided here and now. He cleared his
throat to gather himself. “First off, what is your
name?”

The woman blushed around a shy smile.
“I did not realize that I had not introduced myself. My full name
is Eialia Oie Alliera of the house Eieniette. That is a mouthful
for one not familiar with my native language, so you can call me
Eia.” She stood and leaned toward him with her lips
pursed.

Ipid stared at her in
surprise.

“
It is the custom in my
native land," she explained, "that people kiss after receiving each
other’s names. You are taking the name off of my lips into
you.”

“
Oh.” Ipid was taken aback
by the strange custom, but after a second to consider, he stood and
gave Eia a guarded peck on the lips. It was less of a kiss than his
son would have given him, yet it gave him a slight
flush.

“
You are a strange
people.” Eia smiled but did not sit. “Now you should introduce
yourself. Include your full name and titles.”

“
Ah, yes.” Ipid had been
so protective of his titles to this point that he did not want to
reveal them, and he hemmed nervously while he decided which persona
to assume.

“
We already know your
titles, Lord Ronigan. We simply asked the young people when they
came for the testing. You are quite well known, so it was not a
secret for long.”

That did not reassure him, but he
responded nonetheless. “I am Lord Ipid Ronigan, Chairman and
Director of Ronigan & Galbridge and First Advisor to the
Chancellor for Trade and Commerce. Those are the most significant
titles, if I go through all of them, my breakfast will get quite
cold, and I . . .”

Eia grabbed his shirt pulled him to
her and kissed him hard. It was a passionate kiss the likes of
which he had not received since the death of his wife. It continued
for what seemed a long time before Ipid recovered enough of his
senses to realize what was happening and break away. Even then, it
took some effort to escape Eia's grasp.

Released, he looked at the small woman
wide-eyed and accusing. She laughed, “I told you, you have to kiss
after giving your name, otherwise it will be lost and the
introduction will never have occurred.” She laughed again – a small
birdlike twitter – and returned to her chair as if nothing unusual
had happened.

Ipid glared at her accusingly but
could not think of what to say. Eia just looked at him innocently
until his indignation sputtered and he allowed the incident to
drop. He could not decide what was upsetting him in any case – deep
down he wanted nothing more than to kiss her again.

“
You should eat your
breakfast before it grows cold as you fear. But do you have any
other questions before you do?”