From Across the Clouded Range

by H. Nathan Wilcox

Dasen woke feeling hung over. Though he had only had a single glass of mediocre wine the night before, his head hurt, his mouth was dry, and he felt wrung out. He looked at the room’s single small window and saw stark sunlight outlining the lace-fringed curtain. Surely his father would be desperate to be on his way. He spun his legs out of the bed and dropped his head into his hands. He pushed on his eyes in an attempt to dispel the ache behind them before finally rising.

  Outside his door, he found a basin of water and used it to wash his face and chest. The cool water restored him enough to get his thoughts moving. Today is the day, he thought. They should finally reach Randor’s Pass. He would finally see Tethina. And then what? Find a way to turn her into a proper woman, tame her, be her friend, guide her, support her? His aching head fought with itself and resolved nothing.

  He selected a white cotton shirt from the small trunk at the foot of his bed, unfolded it, and began buttoning it over his underclothes. The mother-of-pearl buttons slid easily through the carefully stitched holes. Black linen pants followed. The pants were tight. He had added weight on the trip, a slight bulge surrounding his middle. At the university, he seldom remembered to eat three meals a day and had maintained a slim figure despite an utter lack of physical activity, but on this trip, there had been little to do other than sit and eat. He buckled the pants with slight difficulty and ran his arms through an embroidered silk vest. The stitching was a simple pattern of small diamonds done in deep red, black, and silver, but the workmanship was excellent, almost imperceptible stitches and not a one out of place. Finally, he clasped the sleeves of his shirt together with gold and silver cuff-links in the design of his father’s crest, a gold cross with triangles at each point.

  Dressed, he ran a whale-bone comb through his ear-length brown hair as he watched himself in the small, circular mirror on the wall. He had a long face, high cheeks, and angular chin. His ears were too big and stuck out too far. His nose was long and pinched, and his eyes were a nondescript muddle of colors that did not stand out in any way. He thought about shaving the paltry growth of stubble along his jaw and upper lip but decided to wait until Randor’s Pass. One last look only brought a sigh. What would Tethina think when she saw him? A bookish, pale, ghost of a man. A pang of worry ran through him at the thought. As much as he feared the trouble Tethina would bring, he almost worried more that she would reject him outright. What if she laughs in my face? What if she’s the one who’s disappointed? He took a deep, shaking breath and cast the thoughts from his mind. Well, she has no more choice than I do. I guess we’ll both just have to learn to live with it.

  With that thought, Dasen grabbed the black woolen jacket from the back of the chair and draped it over his arm. It was already too hot to wear such a thing and would likely be sweltering inside the coach. The clank of coins from the pocket confirmed that his purse was still there. He left his other things strewn about the room. Elton would pack them and bring the trunk down before they departed. He took a last breath and headed out the door to find some breakfast.

  He found his father and Rynn waiting in the backroom of the inn. They were sitting at one of the four round tables arrayed around a potbellied stove in the middle of the room. The floor was made of planks, but they had been carefully laid and sanded so that they were smooth with no gaps. They were also spotless – such a change from the other inns they had visited since leaving Wildern. The walls were covered with wood paneling. Carefully milled and stained to draw out the grain of the wood, it gave the room a warm feel. On one wall hung a rare map of the known world, stretching from the Clouded Range just west of them to the San Cheir Empire and Kiz to the east. An ornately carved frame held it to the wall at eye-level, presumably so that the wealthy merchants using the room could plan their routes. Dasen had examined it the previous night, and though there were a few small inaccuracies, it was an impressive and expensive display for a backwoods inn.

  Dasen approached his father’s table. A plate with the remnants of what appeared to be eggs, sausages, and toast with a thick, red jam sat before him as he wrote a note in the margin of a contract. Still tucking away the same meal, Rynn barely looked up to acknowledge another person had entered the room. Despite his emaciated appearance, Rynn regularly ate more than Dasen or Ipid and with such a passion that it was typically the only time he was quiet.

  Seeing his son, Ipid looked up from the contract before him. A genuine smile spread across his round face. “Good morning, Dasen. How are you?” Surprisingly, his question seemed genuine, and his eyes did not return immediately to his papers.

  Dasen was taken back. Did he really mean what he had said last night? “I have a bit of a headache,” Dasen admitted cautiously. He sat at the table, expecting his father’s eyes to bounce back to the contract, but they remained on him. “I’m sorry to have overslept. I didn’t realize how much I had missed having a comfortable bed.” He signaled to a server. The man literally jumped then disappeared through the door to the kitchen.

  “I thought you could use the sleep,” Ipid said. “The rain has finally stopped, so, hopefully, we’ll have an easier journey today. It can’t be much worse.” He chuckled, obviously in a banner mood. Dasen couldn’t remember the last time he’d shared this many civil, uninterrupted words with his father. “Oh, would you like some coffee? It may help your head.”

  “They have coffee here?” Dasen looked around the inn. It was nice, but that seemed an extravagance too far.

  “I brought a bag of beans with us, and they’ve done a reasonable job of brewing them.”

  “Coffee would be welcome.” As it would have been many other mornings, he thought to himself. He stared at his father, wondering where this affable man had come from and when he would finally turn back into the overbearing bastard he had known for the past twelve years. “You seem in a fine mood this morning,” he ventured.

  “I had a good night’s sleep.” Ipid smiled. His eyes searched the room for the server.

  At that moment, Elton pushed open the door and approached the table. “We’re ready when you are, sir.” He looked down at Dasen and smiled. “Shall I fetch Dasen’s things? I think that is all we’re waiting for.”

  “Certainly, Elton. But first could you get the boy some coffee? I can’t seem to find that server.”

  Elton nodded and strode to a small table by the door to the kitchen. Dasen enjoyed the sight of the huge man handling the delicate silver coffee service and porcelain cups. A moment later, Dasen had his coffee. He sipped at it. The beans had not been ground fine enough and had been over-boiled, but it was better than nothing. Following Elton to the table was the server with a plate containing three fried eggs, an equal number of round sausages, and a thick slice of toasted bread with butter and jam. Dasen’s stomach rumbled at the savory smells. He immediately began cutting the eggs, releasing their yolks to run across his plate.

  “Are you excited to see Tethina?” Ipid asked when Elton had departed up the stairs.

  Dasen felt a knot form in his stomach that almost kept him from swallowing the bite he was chewing. No, he wanted to say. Instead, he changed the subject. “Do you think we will get there in time to see her today?”

  “If the weather holds. I sent a messenger this morning to secure rooms and let her know we would be arriving, so she should be expecting you. ”

  Dasen took a large bite to spare himself further discussion of Tethina. His mind still spun thinking about her. Last night he had been so sure of his path, but his father had thrown it all into doubt with a single phrase, “be her friend.” He tried to think about how that would work. What would they even talk about? How could he ever relate to someone like her?

  “I had Elton dig Tethina’s letters from my baggage if you would like to read them. I will also tell you anything you want to know about her or her inheritance. Once I finish this contract, I am yours for the rest of the day.”


  Rynn looked up in excitement, but his expression turned to confusion with the mention of inheritance. “Later,” Dasen told him. Uncharacteristically, he just shrugged and returned to his toast and eggs.

  Dasen wondered what had happened to his father. He seemed like an entirely different person this morning, engaged, respectful, forthcoming, pleasant. Does he think those words last night will turn around twelve years of neglect? That all will be forgiven and somehow normal between us?

  At least he’s trying, a voice sounded in his mind. Dasen could not disagree. Maybe there was still time for a new start. His thoughts turned to his plans from the previous night. In the light of the day, they seemed petty. Could he really destroy his father’s company? Even if it had taken his father away from him, was he really capable of that much spite? Especially, if his father really wanted a new start?

  Cautiously, Dasen decided to see where this would lead, if his father was really willing to back his words with actions. “Thank you,” he replied. “I would like that. I have spent so much time trying to construct Tethina in my mind. It will be good to finally have something to build on.”

  Ipid smiled and nodded, but there was sadness behind it, disappointment maybe. “Eat your breakfast while I finish this contract. It is almost done. We will have plenty of time to talk during our journey.” Ipid returned to his notations. Dasen speared a sausage but did not taste it for the anticipation that rose inside him. Finally, he would learn something substantial about Tethina, would get a full picture of the challenge he faced, and could start planning to overcome it.