The Forest at the Edge of the World

by Mercer, Trish

  She didn’t think so. She looked into his face, pleading for him to take her with him to the fort, but not daring to say the words.

  “My five minutes are up, and your students will be talking. I’ll see you in just a few hours for dinner. Then I’ll be there all evening. We should take measurements of your windows and doors,” he decided. “I’ll have the fort blacksmith create some reinforcements to make entry more difficult.”

  He paused.

  “Maybe we should move up the wedding. We really don’t need three moons, do we?”

  Mahrree felt a flush of panic. Maybe he didn’t need that much time to prepare, but she certainly did.

  “We shouldn’t move it up just because of this. Besides, your parents can’t come any earlier, can they?”

  He sighed. “My father’s schedule is usually set at least half a year in advance. There’s no way he could change it. Unless we went to Idumea—No!” he declared immediately. “Absolutely not. We’ll just keep to what we decided last night. You’ll be fine.”

  He kissed her again and hastily darted out of the shed, leaving her to hold the rod.

  Mahrree stared at the crude weapon, and her belly twisted with worry. She couldn’t exactly walk into the classroom holding the iron. She tried slipping it into her sleeve, but it was too long and extended beyond her elbow. She slipped the rod down into her skirt and secured it in the ties for her stockings. If she sat down just right, she wouldn’t stab herself. She giggled uncomfortably at the position of the rod, then giggled again at the look on Perrin’s face when he first kissed her. Then she giggled again out of sheer nervousness.

  She couldn’t remember ever giggling before she met Captain Perrin Shin.

  Mahrree stepped out of the shed, knowing she had to get back to her class before they started asking too many questions. But she couldn’t push away the heavy thoughts about the fort at Grasses, or the realization that this time it was real. She could see in Perrin’s eyes that even he was surprised. The attack wasn’t controlled by kings as a convenient show of force, but was instead something much darker and threatening. It followed her like a black cloud as she walked gingerly back to her class, hoping the rod wouldn’t slip.

  When Mahrree opened the door she saw eight eager faces.

  “Well?” Teeria said.

  Mahrree couldn’t even muster a smile. “The answer to your question a few weeks ago: Yes, Captain Shin would kill a Guarder to protect the village. Protecting all of us is his duty.”

  “Nothing else, Miss Mahrree?”

  “You have essays to write, girls!”

  ---

  When evening finally arrived, Perrin stood at the door and knocked formally with his foot, since his arms were full of books.

  Mahrree, who’d been jittery as she walked through the market that afternoon, even though she knew Guarders attacked only at night, was anxious to see him. But she was slightly disappointed he was out of uniform again. He seemed a little more vulnerable without his sword. But at his trousers’ waistband she saw what looked like the handle of a knife sticking out above his hip.

  She smiled, took a deep breath and announced loudly, in case any neighbors were in earshot, “Ah, Captain Shin! Have you finished these books already? My, my. Do come in to get some more.”

  Perrin rolled his eyes at her terrible acting and walked in. He dropped the books on top of the table and Mahrree gasped.

  “What’s wrong?!”

  “The . . .” Mahrree began to laugh and covered her mouth. “The . . . bread! You dropped the books on the bread! You flattened it again!”

  Perrin looked down and saw that what he thought was bundled cloth actually contained a fresh loaf of bread from the bakers. The top was squeezing out under the pressure of the books and split open like a wound.

  “Uh,” he lifted up the books and looked around for another place to put them. Since most of the surface of the table was covered in student writings, he settled for a chair.

  Mahrree removed the cloth from the squashed bread. “Well, you said you liked flattened bread, remember?” She smiled as she held up the misshapen loaf. “Now it’s time to see how honest you are.”

  “I promise to be as honest as I can be,” he said solemnly. Then with a wink he added, “From now on.” He kissed her then tore off a large piece of bread. “Now I can get more into my mouth at one time,” and he shoved it all in his mouth.

  “Oh!” Mahrree snickered. “That behavior isn’t acceptable, even in Edge! It’s fortunate for you that I didn’t share my bread with you that night before the fifth debate. I would never let you back into my house again. This day is filling up with all kinds of surprises about what it will mean to be your wife.”

  “I’m sure you’ll surprise me with your fair share as well,” Perrin garbled with a full mouth. “Any blob for dinner?”

  After dinner—a safe assortment of cheeses, fresh greens, dried beef, and flattened bread—they stepped out on to the back porch. Mahrree shut her back door, and Perrin’s hand rose up and brushed against hers.

  Oh dear, Mahrree thought. She forgot about that. People who are intended tend to hold hands.

  In public.

  To show they are . . .

  She really wasn’t quite sure why, but he likely expected her to grasp his hand, which she did.

  “Uh,” he said, staring at their hands together. “No.”

  Mahrree blushed in embarrassment as he gently pulled his rough hand away. It continued to rise upward to point to the metal locking latch on her door.

  “I was trying to point to that. Are you going to lock it?”

  Mahrree’s embarrassment vanished, and she chuckled at the old lock. “Are you serious?”

  “Do you really not remember what just happened last night? In Grasses?”

  “No, I remember,” she said, much more subdued. “Quite vividly. Tomorrow you tell the rest of the village?”

  “When the rest of the details come in, yes. So lock your door, Mahrree.”

  She wondered if he practiced that authoritative tone, or if he just naturally sounded commanding by lowering his already deep voice. However he did it, he was chillingly effective.

  Mahrree opened the door again, removed the iron key hanging on an old nail by the door, and shut the door again.

  Perrin was rubbing his forehead earnestly when she looked up at him. “Do not tell me you keep the key to your door on a nail by the door!”

  Mahrree fumbled with the lock, since she’d worked it only a handful of times. “Then I also won’t tell you that this key is identical to everyone else’s in this half of Edge, since the same blacksmith made all of our locks years ago and knew only one way to do so.”

  Perrin groaned.

  Before Mahrree could pocket the key, he caught her hand. “Now, unlock the door.”

  “But I just—”

  “Humor me,” he said in the official monotone he used during the debates. “Unlock the door.”

  Mahrree exhaled in exasperation and unlocked it. “See? I do know how to work it—”

  “Now,” he ordered in full commander style, “walk into your house, up to the front door, and lock that door.”

  Mahrree’s mouth dropped open. If he dared to interrupt her one more time . . .

  “What makes you think that door isn’t—”

  “I noticed it when I came in tonight. Besides, if you don’t lock your back door, then you likely don’t lock the front, either. Go. Lock it.”

  He has a point, Mahrree thought grudgingly as she stepped back into the house. She decided she couldn’t be angry about his cutting her off, because, well, her front door wasn’t locked.

  She quickly made her way to it, fought the rusted lock for a moment to get it to twist, then hurried to the back door.

  Guarders are back. Edge isn’t the same. The world is changing, today.

  She closed the back door behind her and dutifully locked it as Perrin watched.

  “Remind me to oil your fron
t lock when we get back,” he said.

  “How did you know—”

  “I could hear your grunting to turn it all the way out here.” His commanding voice had faded away, replaced by a decidedly amused tone.

  Mahrree cringed as they started out the back gate.

  “Also understand,” he continued, much more warmly, “that I’m not really the type to hold a woman’s hand.”

  “Of course,” Mahrree said, slightly relieved that she didn’t have to engage in that juvenile behavior, but also mysteriously disappointed.

  “It’s because I’m a soldier,” he told her. “I need to keep my sword hand free.”

  “But you’re not wearing your sword,” she pointed out.

  “Then it’s my knife hand.”

  “I see,” she said. “So is your left hand ever free?”

  “Sorry,” he said, and seemed like he meant it. “But that’s my two hand.”

  Mahrree blinked. “Your what?”

  “You really don’t know anything about soldiers, do you?” He smiled.

  “And who would have taught me?”

  He chuckled. “First lesson, right now.” He stopped in the alley and held up his right hand. “Sword hand. If no sword, then knife hand.” Faster than she could follow the movement, his hand slipped under his jacket and shirt and came back out with a knife that had been tucked into his waistband on his hip.

  She’d heard of long knives. But this massive blade had ambitions to be a short sword, and she marveled that he was able to sit down without slicing any important anatomy.

  “First thrust, with the blade.”

  He lunged at an imaginary threat, and Mahrree instinctively leaned back. He relaxed his stance.

  “Most people think that’s where it’s all at—in the blade. That kind of thinking works for you. They’re watching the blade, not the two hand.”

  He held up his left hand and formed a fist. She’d seen him do that before, during a debate.

  “First thrust, then comes the second hand with its accompanying hit. One, two.” He lunged again with the knife, then followed up with punch at his invisible enemy.

  Mahrree winced.

  He smiled at her proudly and held up his hands. “I need them both.” Then he shrugged. “Sorry, but I am here to defend Edge first, and be your intended second. That’s just the way it is. I know it’s not ideal, but can you live with that?”

  Knowing that she likely didn’t fully comprehend what that meant, she shrugged back. “Yes, but you know we do have law enforcement too,” she reminded him. “They’re supposed to defend Edge. You’re supposed to defend the border to Edge.”

  He scoffed at that. “They bring drunks home, break up fights between cats, and occasionally catch a thief. If your enforcers are anything like those I’ve seen elsewhere in the world, half of them don’t dare to use the wooden club they carry, while the other half look for any excuse to wallop something. I, however,” he said with a return to the official voice, “will truly protect Edge. All of it, and from threats bigger than mouthy teenagers.”

  Mahrree couldn’t help but grin. He really meant it. Someone more cynical—rather like her just a few weeks ago—would have thought he was too well indoctrinated in Command School, but he truly believed it. He would protect Edge.

  His eyebrows furrowed. “Why are you smiling like that?”

  She wasn’t sure what response he’d expected from his little speech, but smiling obviously wasn’t it.

  “I’m just glad I have you by my side tonight.”

  He squinted suspiciously at her, but she squeezed his ample arm.

  “Now, we were planning to go somewhere, remember? You’re going to show me just how brave you are, Captain Shin. Right?”

  His squint disappeared as he winked at her. He replaced his knife in his waistband and they left the alley for the main road.

  They headed east, receiving stares and a few waves from several people sitting on their front porches to enjoy another warm Planting Season evening. It wasn’t going quite as they’d planned. They had hoped everyone would be at the amphitheater. But tonight’s entertainment must not have been as amusing as Mahrree and Perrin’s awkwardness in trying to walk together without looking like they were walking together.

  They felt a bit deceitful not telling anyone about their engagement. But now with the knowledge that the Guarders had attacked, it seemed necessary to leak the news ahead of Captain Shin’s announcement to Edge tomorrow evening about the raid in Grasses, just so that the neighbors could help keep a careful eye on Mahrree’s house.

  Mahrree noticed that Perrin kept a hand close by his side where the long knife was secreted. He not only looked around at the neighbors, he was looking in their bushes as they walked.

  There was one simple way to let the entire world know about their intentions without Perrin or Mahrree having to say anything to anyone.

  Mahrree took a deep breath as she led Perrin up the gravel path along a garden that was perfectly symmetrical in its pattern of flowers, color, and rock. She raised her hand to knock on the elaborately painted door. The lavender of it matched the lavender flowers growing in the lavender stained pots on either side.

  She turned to Perrin with her hand still in the air. “Are you ready—truly ready—for this?”

  “No, truly not,” he admitted. “But I wasn’t entirely ready for last night, either, and the results were satisfactory.”

  He winked at her as he squeezed her other hand in encouragement, then quickly released it and looked around for any threats. Or maybe witnesses.

  Mahrree knocked loudly on the door and held her breath.

  The door swept open a moment later and Hycymum Peto stood there with a look of astonishment on her face. She glanced at her daughter’s face, then Perrin’s, and then squealed so loudly that she made the captain jump.

  “Oh! Happy day! It is, is it not, a VERY HAPPY DAY?!”

  “Yes, Mother, it is,” Mahrree said hurriedly and pushed Hycymum with gentle force into the house. With her free hand she grabbed Perrin’s arm and dragged him in.

  “Shut the door before the Arkys come running from next door,” she commanded, and he obeyed.

  Mahrree had once watched a fat cat scrabble unsuccessfully to climb a massive boulder, much to her amusement. She was wise enough, however, not to laugh as her short round mother tried to embrace Perrin the boulder. He remained stiff, unrelenting, and—smartly—silent as his future mother-in-law affectionately mauled him in her excitement. Only once did he glance at Mahrree with a long-suffering look that said, Yes—I still want to marry you.

  It took nearly an hour to calm Hycymum down, then another half hour to convince her that a small private ceremony was all they wanted. They readily agreed, however, to let her organize the celebration meal after. Hycymum was satisfied only when Mahrree also agreed to let her decorate the addition to their home.

  But Mahrree stopped short of letting her embellish the fort, for which Perrin gave her a most grateful look.

  For most of the evening he just sat silently on the lace covered sofa with a pained smile on his face, watching the two women bicker and compromise.

  As he walked her home that evening in the growing dark he had only one comment. “You take after your father, don’t you? I’ll have to thank him for that when I get to the other side.”

  “I suppose I should have warned you more about her.” Mahrree bit her lip. “I guess I didn’t tell you enough last night.”

  He nodded. “There are probably a few things about me you should know, too.”

  “Such as, what your parents are like?”

  “Oh, you won’t have to worry about them—they’re great.”

  “Hmm,” she said, unconvinced. Her pace slowed a little. “Your father is the High General. So was your grandfather.”

  His pace slowed even more. “Yes. Is that a problem?”

  “I don’t know. Is it?”

  He stopped completely and looked around
at the dark neighborhood.

  Mahrree watched him anxiously. Despite the shadows she could see concern in his face.

  “We’ve done this kind of backwards, haven’t we?” he said. “We probably should have discussed a few more things before we, um . . .”

  Mahrree nodded. “Well, I’ve never become engaged before. I think we did that part right. It’s the ‘getting to know you’ part we kind of skipped.”

  He nodded back, took her arm, and started walking back to her house. “Uh, Mahrree, considering everything, I’d understand if you now think that maybe you don’t . . . it’s not too late to change your mind, about . . .”

  “You’re right,” she cut him off. She didn’t want him to say it. “It’s not too late for us to start getting to know each other.”

  Then she was struck with a terrible thought.

  “Unless you, uh . . .”

  Perrin chuckled quietly. “No. I can’t understand why, but I’ve never felt more sure of a decision than this. I don’t think anyone else could stand being my wife. Just remember to lock the doors.”

  Mahrree sighed and giggled. She realized giggling was now just a part of her life. “I’ll try, and I feel the same way too. You may be the only man in the world who can tolerate me. You dealt with my mother quite well.”

  “In my negotiations class we learned when it’s time to step away from the conversation. Silence seemed to be the best tactic.”

  She laughed. “Just remember that.”

  “I have a plan,” he announced cheerfully. “Tomorrow night, when I come back from the fort, we’ll resolve this. Make a list of questions. I’ll make one too. Everything we need to know. Then we can start negotiations.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Oh, I like the sound of that,” he said as they continued to walk to her home.

  “Oh, and I didn’t!” She laughed. “That’s the last time you’ll hear me call you ‘sir’.”

  “Fair enough. I don’t think I could order you around. You wouldn’t obey anyway, would you?”