From Across the Clouded Range

by H. Nathan Wilcox

The pools of shadow slowly consolidated into pits of black around the trees as the sun retreated behind the distant peaks of the Clouded Range. This part of the Great Western Forest was mainly ancient pines with a few hearty broad leafs scattered among them: aspens, maples, oaks, and elms. The forest was dense enough to keep most of the bushes and grass at bay so that the most treacherous obstacles were the tangle of shallow roots covered by a shifting bed of dead pine needles and rotting leaves. Teth stepped over and around the hidden roots without thought or effort. Her mind was far away from the forest she traversed, but each step remained silent, her path the cautious circuit of a hunter sliding from tree to tree like a ghost. To her right was the babble of the woodland creek that ran behind her aunt’s house. She was following it without thought, letting her ears be her guide as her mind wandered.

  It had been six days since Teth had stumbled into the forest that terrible night. After traversing the full range of her emotions from elation to heartbreak to devastation in the course of a single crushing hour, she had cried herself to sleep under the shelter of a low, broad pine without food, water, or fire. The next morning had been no better. She had stumbled to her hunting shelter and spent another day curled in a ball, hoping to disappear. Finally, on the third day, she found enough will to go on living, to feed her rumbling stomach, warm her shivering body, and quench her terrible thirst. From there, she had slowly made a deal with herself, made the promises that would keep the real Teth alive even if she had to remain hidden within. She would follow their rules, wear their dresses, live in their city, attend their university, but she would not cower, would not be a slave for some boy. She would remain strong, fierce, independent, equal. That decision made, she packed everything in her shelter, left her bow, all her supplies and equipment behind and said a final goodbye to that part of her life, to what would always be her real home.

  Now the part she feared most. She had to go back, had to face her aunt, Counselor Torpy, the rest of the village and admit that she had given in to their expectations. Then Dasen . . . . A wave of desperation washed over her. She felt the water rising again to claim her, but she pushed it down, steadied herself on the smooth bark of a great fir, reminded herself to take one challenge at a time lest they overwhelm her.

  Drawn from her thoughts, Teth watched her aunt’s small, gabble-topped cottage emerge from between the trees. She cleared the last pines and crossed the herb and vegetable garden, examined the plants already stretching up, the fruits, pods, and delicate leaves nearing maturity. But this was not her aunt’s typical garden. Weeds filled every crevice between the rows. Plants had been left untended, their stems sprawling across the ground when they should have been staked in place. Lettuces and herbs were shooting to seed. Teth bent and began pulling handfuls of creeping weeds from between the rows of beans. After a few moments, she realized the futility of her effort, realized she was just making excuses. She promised the weeds that she would return with a hoe, stood, and stared at the back door. She brushed her muddy hands down her deer hide pants and walked up the three rickety steps.

  At the door, Teth heard voices. She listened, heard her aunt describing the medicinal properties of what could only be mulberry bark. Her voice sounded weak, unsteady and was often interrupted by a restrained cough. The sound of it made Teth’s heart stop. She almost turned around. Was she ready to face her dying aunt? Could she see Milne weak and sick without falling back into the depression that had almost claimed her in the forest? Ever since the spring thaw, she had known. She had never admitted it to herself, but she had known, and her reaction had been to hide, to see her aunt as little as possible, to deny what was right before her. And it had cost her those last few months. Now, when Ipid and Dasen arrived, she’d be dragged away, never to see Milne again. She had wasted too many days already. It was time to stop running. She took a deep breath, braced herself, and pulled the plank door open.

  “Hello, Tethina,” her aunt called. “I’m glad you are back.”

  Teth made her way cautiously into the main room, stood in the doorway that separated it from the storage room at the back of the house. Her aunt was sitting near the fire despite the warmth of the summer evening. She looked so small and fragile that Teth wanted to cry. This was not how she wanted to remember the strong, sharp-eyed woman who had raised her, not as a withered thing wasting away in a chair. She looked down at the floor, gathered her emotions, then looked at the other chair.

  “Hello, counselor,” she said past the lump in her throat.

  “Hello, Tethina,” he responded. “Welcome back. Your aunt has asked me to write some notes for the herbalist that will be taking her place.” The mention of a new herbalist was like a slap. Teth was supposed to be the new herbalist, had been her aunt’s only apprentice. She recoiled despite herself, felt her stomach lurch.

  “That will be enough for today, Counselor,” Milne said. “Thank you again for your help. Perhaps we can pick-up again tomorrow if you have time.” She gave the counselor a genuine smile. He patted her hand as he gathered his papers and stood to go.

  “Of course, Milne,” he assured. “You should get some rest in any case. I will be back tomorrow afternoon.”

  “You . . .,” Teth began then felt like an intruder. She stopped and chewed her lip.

  Counselor Torpy turned to her. “What is it, Tethina?” His voice was calm and kind, like he was talking to a skittish fawn he had found walking through his garden.

  “Milne, I can write the notes for you, if you’d like,” Teth offered. “It will be easier. I already know the properties of the local plants. You can just guide me on which ones to include and how to present them.”

  Milne and the counselor looked at each other and smiled. “That would be most welcome, Teth,” Milne replied. “Counselor can you leave the book here so Tethina can complete it?”

  “Certainly. And please let me know if there is anything else you need. I will be busy preparing for the ceremony but can always find some time. May you find peace in the Order.” Counselor Torpy placed the slim, leather bound book he had been writing in on the side table, gathered his remaining things, and let himself out of the front door. Teth had barely noticed anything that happened after the mention of the ceremony and was surprised to see him gone.

  Finally alone, she turned to Milne. “Is there any hot water? I’d like to clean up and change my clothes. I have two quail in the bag cleaned and ready for the spit. I’ll start them roasting when I come down.”

  “I just pulled the kettle off the fire.” Milne gestured toward it. She looked so tired. “The water should still be hot. There is some stew left in the pot as well if you’d like. I’m not very hungry, but you should make something for yourself.”

  Teth nodded, grabbed a large wooden bowl from the back room and approached the fire. She used the heavy rag by the hearth to tilt the enormous iron kettle on the hook that held it over the fire. A stream of water spouted forth to fill the bowl. Teth held her face over the bowl as the water poured, felt the steam rising to cover her.

  “I am glad to see you are back,” Milne said. “I was beginning to wonder.”

  “I’m sorry,” Teth sighed. She wanted to list all the numerous ways she was sorry but couldn’t find the words. “I had a lot to think about, but I’m ready now. At least I think I am.”

  When her aunt didn’t answer, Teth set the hot bowl down and looked up. Milne had a red cloth pressed to her lips, but Teth could still see the outline of a smile around it. For now, that was enough. She picked up the bowl with two hands and walked carefully up the steps to her small room.

  Twenty minutes later, she returned down the stairs feeling refreshed but awkward. She had laboriously scrubbed a week of grime from her body, washed her short hair, and changed into, of all things, a dress. The simple blue cotton dress had been a gift from Ipid a year before. It was a fine weave with flowers embroidered along the s
quare-cut neck. Between the soft fabric and craftsmanship, it was an extravagant gift, but it was much too short, reaching only to the middle of her long calves, and of a style most often worn by young girls. When she had first received it, she had torn off the too-tight sleeves, and that was the only thing that kept her broad shoulders from bursting the seams. The end result was certainly not appropriate for a woman of her age preparing for her joining ceremony, but it was the best she could manage. And, even worse, she felt naked. Her unbound breasts felt horribly exposed. Her legs missed the reassurance of a covering. Her hips felt too light without the belt or pack resting upon them.

  Teth found her aunt asleep in her chair. She cleared her throat, and Milne’s head shot up. Teth stood as her aunt examined her. Then Milne brought a hand to her mouth to suppress a cough. For a moment, Teth thought she was about to cry and felt like she might join her, but she had misread her aunt’s expression. Milne laughed. She laughed until the cough overtook her then hacked until she was entirely out of breath.

  Teth ran to her side, rubbed her thin back, supported her as her lungs rebelled against her. When she finally stopped, the smell of blood wafted through the air. She wiped her lips with the ever present cloth and smiled. “You look ridiculous,” she gasped.

  Affronted, Teth stepped back and looked down at herself. “What’s wrong with this? It’s the nicest one I have.”

  “I know, my dear,” Milne managed around another chuckle. “But it will never do. This is almost more scandalous than your usual clothes. It is too short, there are no sleeves, the style is all wrong, and it fits you like a sack.”

  Milne coughed again, giving Teth a chance to inspect herself. Unused to dresses, she had not noticed how it sagged around her chest where her breasts were supposed to fill it, slumped in the middle where there were supposed to be hips, and strained at the top where her shoulders jutted through the too small holes. If possible, she felt even more exposed. She crossed her arms in front of her and slumped to the floor to sit cross-legged before her aunt’s chair.

  “Oh, my dear,” Milne laughed again. “I don’t know what we will do with you.”

  “What now?”

  “Teth, when was the last time you saw a woman sitting cross-legged on the floor? Never. And if, for some reason, she were required to do so, she most certainly would keep the hem of her dress below her knees.”

  Teth struggled to pull down the dress, but Milne only laughed more, which brought on another fit of coughing. “I’m trying, Milne,” she almost cried. “I don’t know any of this stuff. I am who I am. I’ll try to be the lady you want, but I can’t get rid of myself. That is what I decided in the last few days. I will try to be a lady, to fit in, but I can’t just stop being who I am. That person, as bad as she may be, is me. If I kill her, I’ll kill myself. There won’t be anything left. Do you understand, Milne? I can try, but the real Teth will always be in here.”

  A tear snaked down Milne’s sunken cheek, her tiny nose turned red, and her mouth pursed. She held out her arms, too overcome to speak. Teth sprang to her feet and threw herself into her aunt’s embrace. She thought she would cry but the tears never came. Milne’s tears soaked into her shoulder but she did not sob. She pulled Teth away, held her in her strong hands, and smiled. “I am so glad,” she whispered. “Keep her alive for me. You will need her. Take what they give you. Make the most of it, learn, adapt, but don’t lose your fire. Just take your time. Bring Dasen to your side. Make him your ally. Then you can work together to find a place for the real Tethina.”

  Relief rushed over Teth, and she smiled for the first time in a week. “So what will we do about you?” Milne asked again. “We’ll never turn you into a lady in three days, probably can’t even have a proper dress ready in that time.”

  Teth’s stomach lurched. “Three days?” she breathed.

  “Or less. We can’t be sure, but I’d guess that’s the most time we’ll have. I received a letter two days ago along with that dress over there.” Milne pointed to a long box in the corner. Peeking from it was a mound of white silk and lace. Teth felt herself grow faint. Milne steadied her. “They were in Wildern at the time, but I don’t think the package could have beaten them by more than five days.”

  Teth gulped. She could not get her eyes away from the dress, could not even imagine what it was going to be like to wear something like that. Certainly the villagers would have a good laugh. “And the ceremony?” she asked without wanting to know the answer.

  “Ipid suggested the next Teaching Day.”

  Teth tried to remember what day it was. “That’s five days from now,” she breathed.

  “Yes, my dear. So we should probably start with the joining dress. I sent some measurements to Ipid, but I couldn’t be sure since you weren’t here, and as this dress shows, he doesn’t always follow my instructions, so we may have a lot of work ahead of us.” Milne sighed, seemed suddenly very old and tired.

  “I will ask one of the women from the village to do the alterations,” Teth said. “You are in no shape to sew a dress like this, and neither of us was ever worth a stitch with a needle. I have money to pay, but they’d probably do it just to see me in that ridiculous thing.” They both chuckled at the thought.

  “While you’re at it, we should see if we can get at least one proper dress sewn for everyday. I should have thought to buy some material when the last caravan came through, but maybe there’s enough in Ipid’s old store.” Teth nodded, looked at her aunt’s long-sleeve wool dress. It was loose through the top, hanging off her emaciated form, then ran in what looked like heaps to the floor. Teth couldn’t imagine wearing that much material. It looked hot, uncomfortable, and restricting. She sighed. Maybe there wouldn’t be any fabric.

  “Your hair is impossible,” Milne continued, “and those hands. Oh well, Dasen would learn what he’s getting eventually. Might as well be from the first glance.”

  Teth made a face. What he’s getting?

  Milne nodded. “He’s getting the strongest, smartest girl I have ever known. And he will learn to love you every bit as much as I do.”

  Despite the queasiness that dominated her stomach, Teth could not help but smile.