#
Ipid pushed the contract away in disgust. He sat back from the small desk and pulled at the few strands of hair remaining on either side of his scalp. A cry of frustration rose inside him. He restrained it with grinding teeth. How could he have made such a complete mess of every truly important thing in his life? It was not supposed to be like this. Kira was supposed to be here to keep him grounded, to keep the ambition from overcoming the man. That had always been her role. When he got ahead of himself, spent too much time dreaming and planning, she always brought him back, reminded him what was important. She’d come to him at times like these, when he was so focused on some scheme that he didn’t know his own name, and lift his head forcefully from the paper, remove the pen from his hand, and lead him without a word to the table, to their son playing before the fire, to their bed. Without her, he had no idea how to separate himself from his ambitions, how to let it go and focus on what is really important, how to relate to the only person that really mattered, his son.
And his friends. They had trusted him to look after their daughter, and he had abandoned her. The fire had taken everything from her, and he had done nothing to restore her, had left her with a widowed aunt and disappeared with her only friend. And now as he tried to bring them together, to complete the only promise he had left, all his mistakes were coming back on him. Dasen and Tethina were meant to complete each other, and Ipid had driven them so far apart that they were doomed from the start. How could he possibly think this would work, that Dasen and Tethina, given the lives he had made them lead, would ever fit together again? But even here, his ambition would not be restrained. He pushed them together with every ounce of his will no matter how they resisted, no matter the consequences to them.
Go to him, a voice sounded in his head. He looked around the small, well-appointed room as if for ghosts. Talk to him, the voice urged.
He knew it was right, but still he resisted. Dasen had every right to hate him, the father who was never there. Even in the face of tragedy, he had run away, retreated in his work, left his son to be raised by nurses and tutors. Why should he listen to me now? How have I earned the right to be heard?
He needs you, the voice answered. You can never make up for what was lost, but you can always start again.
Ipid sighed through a sob, felt a tear course down his cheek. It was the first he had shed since he buried his wife, and he only allowed himself one. “Thank you, Kira,” he whispered as he rose from his desk, wiped his eyes, and strode through the door.
A minute later, he was standing outside of Dasen’s door. He could tell from the flickering light at the bottom that he was still awake, but he hesitated, tried to think what he could say. Finally, he said a small prayer, left it to the Order, and turned the knob. “Good evening, Dasen. I was hoping we could have a word.” Too formal, you fool. He’s your son.
“What is it?” Dasen did not turn, did not look up from the book before him.
Ipid felt his anger flare. How dare the boy treat me that way? If someone in my employ. . . .
But he’s not in your employ. He’s your son, and you’ve been an ass.
“Dasen, I want to apologize. I’ve been an ass.”
That got Dasen’s attention. He turned, jaw falling open when he confirmed it was actually his father in the doorway.
Now what, Ipid thought to himself, but the voice was silent. “I . . . I should have told you about Tethina. I should have let you read her letters. It is unfair of me to make you join someone you don’t even know, and though that is the necessity of the situation, I should have at least given you what I had of her.” Dasen continued to look at him dumbfounded, so Ipid stumbled on. “You should also know the whole truth behind this. Tethina’s aunt is very ill, she is dying. When she dies, Tethina’s custody will go to her uncle. He is a drunk and a bastard. He will most certainly mistreat her then sell her as a bride to the highest bidder.” Dasen looked appropriately appalled. “Further, she owns half of Ronigan & Galbridge. Her father was a full partner. That stake passed to her and has never been diminished. When you are joined, you, through Tethina, will officially control half of the company.”
At this revelation, Dasen seemed truly shocked. “Why . . . why didn’t you tell me this before?”
Ipid sighed. The truth, the voice reminded. Ipid lowered his eyes, stared at the planks. “I didn’t trust you to do what was right for the company. I wanted you to see how things really worked before you started taking control. That is why I have been insistent that you apprentice with me, why I wanted you to see those mills.”
Ipid cleared his throat. Dasen opened his mouth to speak, the fury clear in his eyes, but Ipid held up a hand and he stopped. “I am sorry, Dasen. I have made a shambles of things. When your mother died, I didn’t know what to do. I was so heartbroken I could barely stand to look at you for the pain it caused me. I couldn’t stand to be in Randor’s Pass, to see our house, our things, so I moved us away as fast as I could. And then I escaped into myself, into my work, and left you alone. It was a terrible thing to do, and I regret it every day.” Ipid stopped to clear the lump in his throat. He saw the tears standing in Dasen’s eyes but somehow did not shed any of his own. “I can only ask you to forgive me. I hope you see why I did what I did. It doesn’t justify it, but maybe it explains it.”
“I think I need some time to myself now,” was all Dasen said. “I . . . I have a lot to think about.”
Ipid nodded. What had he expected, his son to race into his arms like a child, to say everything was forgiven? He turned to go then thought of one last thing. “As regards Tethina, be patient with her. You two need each other more than either of you know. Be her friend, don’t try to change her, just accept her like you would any other friend. If you can do that, everything else will work itself out. None of the rest of this will matter. Trust me on that.”
Dasen stared blankly. Ipid was not sure if he had heard a word, but something seemed to resonate. “Good night,” he offered then turned and pulled the door closed behind him. He returned to his room, collapsed into his bed, and dreamt of his wife for the first time in years.
From Across the Clouded Range Page 11
