#

  “Sir, I’m sorry to interrupt, but we’re going to need you.” Elton’s deep voice ended Rynn’s soliloquy on the geography of the Unified Kingdoms, primarily centered on its monotony and how that directly related to the personalities of its inhabitants.

  Neither Dasen nor Ipid were paying him the slightest attention. Dasen felt somewhat bad for ignoring his friend, but he had not fully considered how difficult a traveling companion Rynn was likely to be. Unable to focus on a book or even sit still for more than a few minutes, Rynn was almost bouncing off the walls of the coach by the time they stopped each day. He seemed to speak non-stop about every thought that entered his head, skipping from subject to subject like a squirrel in a room full of nuts. He had a gift for witty observation that made most of his conversation entertaining, but even so, Dasen and Ipid had learned to block him out to maintain their sanity.

  At that moment, Dasen was absorbed in a book of treatise on the Order-defined division of duties and matronly side of the Order. He had purchased it for Tethina but decided he should read it first. It was never a topic that he had found to be of much interest, despite his earlier claims. The basic doctrine seemed so obvious that he didn’t understand why anyone would bother to study it. Of course men were stronger, more logical, and better able to interpret the Order. They were made to provide for, protect, and guide the family. Likewise, anyone could see that women were weaker, incapable of higher logic, and easily led astray. The Order had given them the ability to produce children and the temperament to raise them, but they needed men to protect, provide for, and guide them to alignment with the Order. Wasn’t that obvious to everyone? And all the societal norms that flowed from that division were simple, logical extensions of that basic premise.

  Meanwhile, Ipid was notating yet another contract to purchase lumber rights for the recently opened mills in Liandria. Normally, he would dictate those changes to his secretary, but Paul had fallen from the coach the first night outside of Wildern and broken his arm. Ipid had insisted that he return to the city to receive proper treatment and had been without him ever since. More bad luck had followed. A day later, the coach carrying his other retainers had broken an axel and been left behind. Then the rain had started. For two straight days it had rained almost constantly. They spent a day waiting it out then went on when it did not abate. That had led to a horrible day of jostling and shaking just to reach this speck of a town. Now, it appeared that there was a problem with the covered cart carrying their luggage. The next day would be Fifth Day, followed by Rest Day, and finally, Teaching Day, the day of the joining ceremony. If they lost another day, Dasen would not even have the chance to meet Tethina before they were joined.

  The only redeeming fact was that they were sitting in the backroom of a surprisingly nice inn – at least the backroom was nice, having been, apparently, built for wealthy travelers like themselves. It was a welcome relief from the establishments that had housed them the past two nights: rough buildings with a single smoky room occupied by a few long tables, greasy food, tiny rooms, crude furnishings, and beds he was almost afraid to sleep in. Dasen had not bothered complaining to his father. They were hardly speaking to each other now, and even so, Ipid barely seemed to be with them most of the time.

  It all started in the first days of their trip when Ipid staunchly refused to tell him about Tethina or let him read any of her letters. He would only say that he did not want Dasen to “form any ideas before he had met her,” which only made him more desperate to know what ideas his father had in mind. His mind spun on the topic continuously. Could it really be that bad? Was she simple-minded, crippled, ugly, vain, pious, flighty, domineering, greedy, promiscuous? Dasen had imagined every possible scenario, worried about them, ranked them, prepared himself for them, tried to ignore them, but it was no use. The lack of certainty was slowly killing him.

  On the fourth day of the trip, Dasen had taken his revenge. Outside the city of Lianne on Alta, they stopped to tour one of Ipid’s newest mills. In that and each of the four others they had visited, Dasen found the same miserable conditions. Workers completed the same repetitive tasks endlessly, often at a backbreaking pace. Many of them were missing fingers or even hands from the dangers of their work. Hordes of workers crippled beyond their ability to contribute in the mills performed whatever menial task they were capable of. The shanty villages where they lived were squalid. The houses were close together and quickly built of identical designs. No trees blocked the beating sun. The roads were dirt and mud. Sewage ran in open trenches to whatever river powered the mill’s gigantic waterwheel. Ipid swore that the workers made better wages than they’d receive if they were still tied to the land where owners were, under the current interpretation of the Order, only required to provide for their “subsistence”. However, Dasen knew that many of the workers had not come from the country. Many of them were free craftsmen who had been displaced by Ipid’s more efficient mills. These had been forced backward in life, moving from using hard won skills to menial, repetitive tasks; from comfortable wages to squalor. Even the children were tied inexorably to the mills. Ipid was very proud of the schools he had established in the shanty towns, and the children who excelled in them were given the opportunity to apprentice as engineers or managers, but the others were soon shuffled into jobs as runners, sorters, and cleaners until they were old enough to join their fathers in the more demanding and dangerous work.

  Seeing nothing further to lose, Dasen had allowed his distaste to show. He was insolent and derisive in the mill, rude to the managers, and defiant when speaking with the workers. When they finished, an epic argument had ensued. They opposed each other at ear-splitting decibels on everything from working conditions, to wages, to pricing. Each drew on different interpretations of the Order to defend their positions and claimed to be working for the betterment of all society. It ended only when Ipid again threatening to end Dasen’s time at the university, which was “corrupting his good sense,” and Dasen told his father he would be cast into the Maelstrom for his defilement of the Holy Order. After two other, equally petulant, stops, Ipid had given up and allowed Dasen to remain sitting in the coach while he toured the final mill. They had barely shared a civil word since. When his father wasn’t reviewing contracts, reports, or production plans, he was staring morosely out the window. If he bothered to look at his son, it was with disappointment in his eyes.

  “What is it, Elton?” Ipid looked up from his contract and stared at his servant over the rims of his reading glasses. “I want to get a revised version of this contract sent back to Wildern in the morning, and there are still several pages here. Is it critical?”

  “I’m sorry, sir,” the Morg responded. He was wearing a waxed canvas coat and broad brimmed hat both of which dripped with rain, making a substantial puddle on the floor. The innkeeper stood behind him, towel in hand and a severe frown on his face. “I’m afraid I was correct about the wagon. There is a crack in the wheel. Given the state of these roads, I don’t think it will make it another day. We’ll have to leave it here until it can be repaired. We need to decide what we’re taking with us and what we’re leaving behind. They’re unloading the wagon now. I need your guidance on what to bring so we can get it transferred to the top of the coach.”

  “By the Order,” Ipid cursed, “we’ve already lost a day to the Order-cursed rain, now this.” He growled in frustration and pounded his hands onto the polished table. He looked at the pages spread before him and sighed. “I guess there’s no helping it. Let’s get it done quickly, so I can get back to this before we burn them out of oil.” Ipid stood and marched toward the door. As he departed, he turned. “Dasen, you should get to bed. We will arrive in Randor’s Pass tomorrow. You’ll want to be fresh when you meet Tethina.”

  Dasen grunted. It was about as much as he allowed his father these days. But as soon as Ipid was out the door, he lurched
for his father’s satchel, flung it open, and rifled through his papers. His father had received a letter from Randor’s Pass when they arrived in Wildern. Dasen had, of course, not been able to read it, but it was of great interest to Ipid. What’s more, Dasen knew exactly where it was located in his father’s bag. Unfortunately, his father never let the satchel out of his sight, until now.

  “What are you doing?” Rynn whispered. “Your father is going to skin you.”

  “I have to read this letter,” Dasen announced as he pulled it triumphantly from the bag. He unfolded it and immediately started reading the flowing script. Rynn joined him, looking over his shoulder. Dasen quickly realized that the letter was not in Tethina’s hand or voice – this was not the writing of a young woman and was about rather than by her. A glance at the bottom showed the mark of Tethina’s aunt and a notation from the local counselor stating that he had done the dictation.

  He returned to reading but was interrupted by Rynn’s gasp. “No!” he exclaimed. “She didn’t. By the Order, this is going to be legendary.”

  “What?” Dasen desperately scanned the words, now unable to focus on any of them.

  “Just read,” Rynn suggested through the hand covering his mouth. Dasen had never seen his friend so scandalized, and that was profound.

  Dasen took a deep breath and forced his mind to focus on the words before him. He scanned past the opening pleasantries to where the letter was, for some reason, discussing the recently completed district games. Dasen realized he had missed something and went back. As she promised, Tethina competed in the games today, the letter said. Dasen read it again. Shook his head and read one more time. He looked at Rynn.

  “Keep reading,” his friend chuckled, “it gets better.”

  I’m sure you won’t be surprised to learn that she won five first place coins, the letter continued. I didn’t get a chance to ask which ones, but she was very pleased with herself. Unfortunately, it appears that the village boys are extremely upset. I think they have finally had enough of her. I am concerned that they may really hurt her this time, so the ceremony becomes all the more necessary. Dasen stopped. His mind could not even process what he was reading. How was it possible that a girl had competed in the district games, much less won against boys? He assumed he must have misunderstood. He read the paragraph again but could think of no other way to interpret it.

  “Keep reading,” Rynn insisted when he saw that Dasen had stopped. He was literally hopping with anticipation. “Either this is the best joke ever or the Order has it out for you in the worst possible way.”

  Head spinning, Dasen read. Having covered the games, Milne mentioned a long overdue talk, in which she had told Tethina about the proposed joining. Tethina’s apparent reaction brought Dasen to another stop. “She ran off into the forest?” he read out loud, questioning each statement. “I don’t expect to see her for a few days? I have no concerns about her taking care of herself? I am confident that she will return ready for her new life?” He looked up at Rynn. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Dasen,” Rynn turned serious, “you say you knew this Tethina as a child.” Dasen nodded dumbly. “Are you certain that she was a girl? Are you sure that your father has not promised you to another man?” Dasen swatted at his friend, but he just backed away and continued, “And one much more manly than you. How many first place coins have you won?” Dasen refused to answer. “Oh, yeah, the exact same number as me, none. You’ve never even competed. And spending several days in some forest. You wouldn’t last fifteen minutes without cobbled streets and food carts. I mean you can barely manage in provincial inns.”

  Ignoring his friend, Dasen read the rest of the letter. It gave measurements for Teth, which were meaningless to Dasen, though they seemed surprisingly similar to his own. There was a wish for safe travels and a few other pleasantries, but that was it. Dasen sat back in shock. His mind spun but could not come to terms with what he had just read. In all his thinking on Tethina, this was not something he had ever come close to considering.

  Rynn, for his part, snatched the letter from Dasen’s limp fingers and read it again. “Can I make a copy of this? It is absolutely the most deliciously scandalous thing I have ever read.”

  “You may not!” Ipid shouted. He stormed into the room and tore the letter from Rynn’s fingers. “That is my letter. From my satchel. How dare you?”

  For once in his life, Rynn had the good sense to not smile. He retreated to put one of the four round tables between himself and his accuser. He stammered, at a rare loss for words.

  “I took it from your bag,” Dasen admitted, “and I’m glad I did. Is this what you’ve been hiding from me? That you’re forcing me to join some freakish he-woman? When were you planning to tell me? When she ran off to kill us a boar for our wedding feast?”

  “Enough!” Ipid roared. “You will not speak of Tethina that way! You don’t know anything. You’ve read one letter, and it wasn’t even from her.”

  “Then let me read her letters, though I didn’t see much room for confusion in that.”

  “That’s why I didn’t want you to read it! What it says is true, but you are jumping to the wrong conclusions. Tethina is strong and independent, but she’s not some freak. She’s a young woman who’s had an Order-cursed hard life.”

  “So you’ve decided to strap her to me. I’m the one who has to teach manners to the wild woman of the west. Do you have any idea the scandal it will create if this news reaches Liandrin?” Dasen paused for a moment in shock. “How could this not travel? A girl competes in the district games and wins five first place coins. That will spread across the world like an old Imperial decree. By the Order, what if they attach it to Tethina? What if they realize it’s the same girl?”

  “Now, Dasen.” Ipid tried to calm his son. “It will blow over like these things always do. I thought you’d be proud of her.”

  “Blow over! Proud! I will be a laughing stock! I won’t be able to walk into a room without it erupting into whispers at best, outright jeers at worst. It will be impossible. And Tethina, she will be a constant source of ridicule. It will be ten times worse for her. No girl will speak with her. The boys will taunt her. The counselors will deride her. Where did you think this would go?”

  “I think you are blowing this entirely out of proportion,” Ipid stuffed the letter into his bag, obviously done with the discussion. “So she competed in the games. People will have some fun with it, then it will be over. I always thought you were a better man than to worry about what others thought of you. That you stood up for your friends.” Ipid made a point of looking toward Rynn as he spoke the last. “Now I think we should forget about this and get some sleep. It will be a long day tomorrow, especially if this rain continues.” With that, Ipid gathered his remaining papers, buckled them into his satchel, gave Dasen and Rynn each a disapproving look, then stomped up the stairs to his room.

  Dasen collapsed into a chair and dropped his head to the polished planks. Images of a muscle-bound man clad in leathers with a woman’s face flashed before his eyes. He tried to imagine himself even kissing such a creature and couldn’t. The reactions she would solicit at the university echoed in his ears. For the first time, he seriously considered running away. But now he was in the middle of nowhere. How would he even go? Hire a horse that he could barely ride? His father probably had the only coach this side of Thoren. If he had known this back in Liandrin or even Wildern on Orm that would have been one thing, but now he was stuck.

  Seeing his friend’s duress, Rynn placed a hand on his back. “I’m sorry, Dasen. I shouldn’t have made such a deal of it. Your father’s right. It might be a thing for a week or two, but it will blow over, especially if she’s not like that when you arrive. I mean, if she shows up and actually looks and acts like a normal girl, people will think it was an exaggeration or even a lie. It will never hold up.
Just like the rumor that Albin Churler’s mother was a simpleton. It followed him for a while, but when his parents visited and people saw that she was just plain stupid, it died out.”

  “You started that rumor,” Dasen reminded Rynn.

  “Which is another advantage you have, the most virulent rumor monger at the university is your best friend.”

  “Small consolation that, but I do think you are on the right track. We do have six months. By then it will be old news, and if we arrive and Tethina is nothing like the rumor, it will be done. By the time we reach Liandrin, she needs to seem so demure and delicate that no one will be able to imagine the rumors were true. I’ll just have to make it very clear that she can’t continue as she has, that it is against the Order. She hasn’t had a man in her life to guide her, after all. She probably just needs a strong hand to show her what is proper.”

  “See,” Rynn declared. “I have galloped in to save you yet again. All I need is a white steed, and I could be a folk hero.”

  “I think the horse is the least of your needs, but thank you. Now that I know what I’m dealing with, I’m going up to my room to put some thought into it.” Dasen rose and patted Rynn on the shoulder before starting up the stairs. Somehow, despite finding the match to be worse than his wildest fears, he was relieved to at least know what he was facing. In the end, Tethina was nothing more than a mistake created by a lack of proper male guidance, but the Order always sought to correct itself. All he had to do was make Tethina see her proper place, push her strongly back into that place, and the Order would reestablish itself.

 
H. Nathan Wilcox's Novels