From Across the Clouded Range

The town of Potter's Place was little more than a few rugged buildings huddled together in a large clearing where the trees had been pushed back by human expansion. It was well smaller than Randor’s Pass and had the ramshackle look of a village under long siege by the trees that surrounded it. But the trees were nothing more than the patient beneficiaries of the town’s hardship. Poverty was its true enemy, an invisible wasting disease that could not be defeated by anything as simple as axes or fire. Unlike some of its neighbors, Potter’s Place had nothing to distinguish it, nothing to sustain it. It was not at a crossroads, did not have a river to turn a millwheel or transport lumber to market, had no special resources or commerce. One could easily wonder why the town had ever been built, but they would be left to wonder. It had stood for as long as anyone could remember, stoically resisting the irrelevance that threatened year-after-year to end it.

  On this day just past the height of summer, Potter’s Place was facing its most difficult test. The people remained huddled in their houses no matter the urgency of their need. No shops were open, no children played in the green, no women talked on their porches or tended their gardens. Smoke did not rise from the chimneys. If not for the occasional head peeking furtively from behind drawn curtains or cracked shutters, Teth would have thought that the village truly was abandoned. Abandoned that is except for the main road that connected it to the rest of civilization. Along that road, stretching from one end of the village to where it disappeared again into the trees on the other, were thousands upon thousands of men marching steadily east.

  Teth watched those men from the top of a small bluff overlooking the village. Dasen lay beside her, hand clenched in hers, fingers intertwined, squeezing so that they hurt. They had only just arrived at their perch, having had to pull themselves up the steep, damp hill with their hands as much as feet. It has been exhausting, dirty work made harder by a cool mist that had accompanied them throughout the morning. They were now every bit as dirty and desperate as they had been the previous night, and as the scene below showed, no help was imminent.

  We don’t need it. No one is chasing us. If they were, they’d have taken us. We don’t need to run. Let the invaders be. It was a revelation sent by the Order itself. Why run? Why try to outpace an army? We can stay in the forest, use my shelter, sneak in to see Milne.

  She spared a look at Dasen. A few days ago, he would have laughed, but now . . . .

  Last night, when they had collapsed into the hay, he had held her, his body pressed against her, warm, gentle, reassuring. And everything had felt right. She had enjoyed that comfort for the barest moment before she fell into the deepest, most peaceful sleep she remembered having since she was a child. Then she’d had that dream. She could still almost feel the way he had touched her in those too real images. It was probably a good thing he was not there when she woke. She was not sure what she would have done if he’d have been holding her when she’d woken and wanted more than anything for the feelings from that dream to be real.

  As it was, she had come down and acted like some spellbound girl. She had bathed right in the middle of the yard, exposed herself to the risk that the freeholders or invaders return, had hoped that he was watching. Then she had nearly attacked him in the barn, had barely been able to tear herself away, could still feel his hands on her, his tongue, lips, coarse facial hair.

  She shook her head to dispel the memories. She was still more than a little embarrassed. Dasen had been shocked, but at least he hadn’t pushed her away. In fact, following a breakfast of flavorless oat cakes and a rabbit she shot in the garden, they kissed quite a few more times on their way to this place. Following the road from the trees, they had held hands and spent their breaks locked together. In the beginning, Dasen had seemed shocked but willing, by the time they reached this final hill, he almost seemed to accept a girl who took what she wanted.

  He gets it, she thought again. He has seen who I am, and he doesn’t care. He wants me anyway. Sure she had initiated nearly every contact they’d had, but he accepted her, took what she offered, did not demand more. And isn’t that indication enough that he isn’t locked into the traditional roles, that he accepts me as I am, aggressive, assertive, undaunted. Certainly any other boy she knew would rather be joined to a goat than have a girl dictate their courtship. No, she decided, Dasen is different. He is nothing like those lugs in Randor’s Pass. Milne was right all along.

  She turned her head and stared at him. He was nothing like the man she’d always thought would claim her. She’d imagined a woodsman as strong and savvy as her, someone who loved the forest, knew the animals, lived from the land. She’d imagined that he would hunt her like a prize buck, would eventually find her and take her away to live far from the judgmental eyes of others. He would be strong and fast and sure. Handsome, of course. And in awe of a woman who was every bit as strong as him, the only match he had ever found. They would hunt together, explore, sleep under the stars, spend their winters in bed. Their children would ride on their backs until they could run at their sides.

  Dasen was as far from that fantasy as a man could possibly get, but he was something far more important. He was kind. He cared for her. She was more and more convinced that he understood her, was brave enough to accept a misfit for what she was. And, most important, he was real. Milne had said that she was living a lie, and she had been right. Her fantasy had been just that. Dasen was real, he was right here, and he was enough.

  “Stay here with me,” Teth said before she realized the words were out of her mouth.

  Dasen tore his eyes from the village with some effort. “What?” he whispered, but his wide eyes drifted back before she could answer. “What are we supposed to do now?” he mumbled. “By the Order, we’ll never get ahead of them. We might as well surrender.” He sounded defeated, clearly overcome by what they were seeing below.

  Teth licked her lips and built up her courage. She grabbed Dasen’s arm. “Look at me, Dasen.” He only glanced toward her, so she shook him. “No, look at me.” Finally, he pulled his attention fully from the village. Teth took a deep breath. “We can stay here,” she said, nearly begging.

  Dasen looked confused. “Here? In Potter’s Place?”

  “No, in the forest. On the other side of the river if we can get there. We’ll build a bigger shelter, maybe even a cabin, and wait this out.” Dasen drew the breath to speak, but Teth continued over him. “Just listen for a minute. The invaders aren’t looking for us anymore. I’m sure of that. If they were, we’d have seen them. And once they’re across the river, there’s no reason for them to stick around. This will be the safest place to be. I have arrows now. We can hunt and forage our food. We can even sneak in to visit my aunt. Her house is outside the village, so no one will need to know we are around. It will . . . .”

  “Stop, Teth. You know that will never work.” Dasen did not leave any room for doubt. “What happens when you run out of arrows again – you only have eight. We don’t have a pot, blankets, clothes. How will we build a cabin without tools? I couldn’t build one even if we had them. And what do we do when the winter comes?” He paused and shook his head. “I know you want to see your aunt, but what about my father and Rynn? We have to get the information we have to the Chancellor. It’s the only chance they have. And even if we didn’t have to think about them, that life is over. We’re joined. You don’t have to keep living like this. Once we get to the city, we’ll have everything we need. We’ll have a real life. We won’t have to worry about what happens when you catch a baby. We wouldn’t be able to attend the university, but with all this, that might not be possible anyway. I mean, what would we do if it happened out here? We’re not raising a pack of wolves.”

  Everything Dasen said made sense. Teth knew that it was true. Staying in the forest had been a fantasy every bit as far-fetched as her old musings, but to have it so thoroughly and cruelly dismiss
ed took her breath away. Catch a baby. She had not even considered that might be the result of what she’d wanted to do that morning. She stared at Dasen and stammered. He reached out a hand and stroked her hair back, held her cheek, stared at her in the most patronizing way she could imagine, like she was a child that had just suggested they plant coins to grow a money tree. She slapped his hand away, anger flaring. “Who ever said we’d be raising anything?” she hissed.

  Dasen was set back, but that patronizing look remained. “I just thought that was the way things were going. It didn’t seem like you wanted to wait. I mean, there are ways to keep from catching a baby, but I . . . .”

  “You think that is what this has been about?” Teth seethed.

  “What else would it be about?”

  “Just forget it.” Teth shook her head, ground her teeth, then turned and scrambled down the hill far faster than Dasen could ever hope to manage.

  “Teth, I’m sorry,” Dasen called after a moment of shock. “Where are you going? What’s wrong?”

  Teth spun. “We’re not going to get to your precious city by sitting here feeling sorry for ourselves. Our only hope is that we can get ahead of them. Given the lead they already have, that means we’ll have to move a lot faster than we have been. So let’s get going.” With that, she turned and practically ran down the hill. Stupid! Stupid, foolish girl, she scolded herself with every step.