The Forest at the Edge of the World

by Mercer, Trish

  Shin’s face continued to twist until he could no longer fight it.

  He yawned.

  The rotund staff sergeant smiled. “Well done, sir! Nearly time for dinner, and that’s your first yawn.”

  The three men chuckled as Shin glared good-naturedly at them. “You said you weren’t doing that anymore.”

  “There’s so little to entertain us now, Captain,” Karna sighed in feigned sadness. “Quiet forest for over a year, and now that it’s the Raining Season again—well, Guarders hate the snow. Nothing will be happening for at least another moon until Planting begins. We keep ourselves sharp by guessing how much sleep you lose each night.”

  “And it’s only going to get worse when that second baby comes, sir,” the gnarled master sergeant drawled. “Why, we can take bets for at least another three seasons!”

  Shin smiled reluctantly as the men laughed. “Grandpy Neeks, knowing you there’s a chart somewhere in your quarters. You know how I feel about gambling.”

  “No slips of silver—only bragging rights. And being right is better than being rich around here. We all accept that, sir,” he said with a smile in his eyes. “So far, I’m the rightest one around.”

  “You always are, Neeks.” Shin couldn’t help but chuckle.

  For as long as Perrin knew Neeks, the man had been called Grandpy. His red hair went prematurely gray when he was twenty, and he had a naturally weather-beaten look as if he were a decades-old stockade fence. He also had a monotonous way of slow-talking that said, “Don’t interrupt me boy, or I’ll take you out to the woodshed after I finally finish this story and make you chop four cords of wood then make you build another shed to hold it all, so help me, now sit down, shut up, and show some respect because I’m not gonna take no mouth from no one.”

  He was perfect for whipping the new recruits into shape.

  Perrin had requested him specifically as Wiles’s replacement, and was stunned to realize that, when he opened Grandpy’s file from the High General, Master Sergeant Neeks was only forty years old. Perrin wondered if he would seem as ancient and gnarled in ten more short years of serving in the army. Maybe the weathering effect only occurred to the enlisted men.

  The other new addition to the fort, Staff Sergeant Gizzada, replaced the master sergeant who retired right after the forest raid, and was almost a complete opposite. While Neeks was as pale and gray as the strongest mortar, Gizzada was as dark and brown as the richest soils. And even though he was six years older than Perrin, he looked more like an overgrown boy with a round face that matched the rest of his body, dark cheeks that were hued a deep red, and a tongue that was always licking his lips as if knowing dinner was on the way.

  The former head cook of midday meal at the garrison was a good fit as supply master.

  “Sir, I’m not for lack of things to do around here,” Gizzada said jovially. “I keep myself well entertained!”

  “So that’s the problem, Karna? Not enough entertainment for you?” Shin asked. “I didn’t realize you were so eager to get back into the forest. I can arrange for that, if you insist.”

  His lieutenant paled as the sergeants sniggered. “No, sir, I don’t want you violating your father’s orders again. Why, he might promote me ahead of you.”

  Shin’s eyebrows went up as the sergeants chuckled.

  There was a knock on the office door and Neeks opened it.

  “You’re a little late today, messenger,” Grandpy said severely to the young man holding the bag from Idumea. Neeks never passed up an opportunity to dress down a young soldier.

  “Yes, sir. Sorry, sirs,” he nodded towards Captain Shin. “The messenger I met in Vines said there were some last minute administrative additions to the pack in Idumea. And as you know, we’re not allowed to leave until all of them are satisfied.” He took the pack off his back and handed it over to Grandpy, who kept the eyebrow up.

  “Then I suppose it’s remarkable you get to leave at all,” Karna mumbled daringly.

  Shin nodded back to the messenger. “I won’t have anything to return for at least an hour while I sort through this. Might as well take your meal here rather than in Mountseen.”

  “Be first in line at the mess hall,” Gizzada recommended. “Roast venison in a button mushroom sauce with buttered spuds. Mmm!” He kissed his fingers.

  “Thank you, sirs!” the messenger said happily, before having his grin wiped away by Neeks’ still-menacing eyebrow.

  As he bolted down the stairs, Neeks dropped the pack on Shin’s large oak desk. “Feels a little heavier today, Captain. Need some help going through it?”

  “Probably,” Perrin said, pulling out some of the contents. “More notices. We’re going to have to build larger notice boards around Edge to hold them all.”

  “Or ask the Administrators to be more concise,” Karna nodded as he picked up a large document detailing something mundane.

  Shin sat down at the desk and sorted through the pile. “Ah, this one looks promising. Nice and small.”

  He grinned as he looked at the plain beeswax seal. Something in his belly tightened, but maybe it was because he was now thinking about venison, and he could hear Gizzada’s round abdomen rumbling. As the other soldiers sorted through the message pack, Perrin opened the small folded document, grimaced at the unfamiliar writing, then swallowed as he read the sentence.

  For a minute none of the other men noticed that he hadn’t moved, until Neeks glanced up and saw the dead look in his eyes. “Sir? Something wrong?”

  Shin didn’t answer.

  “Captain?” Karna tried.

  Shin only swallowed again and refolded the message. “Men, take care of the rest of this for me, please. Anything important, leave on the desk. I’ll be back in forty-five minutes.” He stood up and put on his cap.

  “Sir?” Karna said, stunned that the captain would leave while messages needed addressing.

  “And when I come back, you may find something far more interesting to do than timing my yawns!”

  ---

  Rector Densal released a heavy sigh and looked at the note in his hands. “Perrin, I think your father might have more insight than me.”

  “I don’t think I have that kind of time, Hogal,” Perrin said gravely as he sat across from Hogal at his eating table.

  Tabbit stood behind Hogal, reading over his shoulder. “Are you going to tell Mahrree?”

  Perrin shrugged. “According to number three on my mother’s list, I shouldn’t give Mahrree anything unnecessary to worry about. One never knows when the mother bear instinct may arise.”

  Tabbit nodded. “Joriana was always very smart in these things.”

  “I don’t know,” Hogal mused. “Mahrree might need to know that a dozen Guarders have her and little Jaytsy marked.”

  “Oh, that’s not really what it means,” Tabbit blanched. “Is it?!”

  “What else would it mean, Auntie?” Perrin said, trying to keep his growing rage and worry out of his great aunt and uncle’s house, unsuccessfully. “It’s written in a hand I’m not familiar with, and by the tightness of it, it looks like they even took pains to disguise it just to be sure. Somehow it got smuggled into the message bag. Only administrators and the army can submit messages to that service. The messenger said the pack was delayed in leaving Idumea early this morning, and that’s why!” he gestured furiously at the note. “Someone took great risks to get me that warning, and they wouldn’t bother unless it was a real threat!”

  Hogal patted Perrin’s hand. “It will be all right, my boy—”

  Perrin stood up abruptly, knocking his chair backwards. “HOW will it be all right, Hogal?! They want my wife and babies! They’ve been successful before, in eight different villages! How do I know those people weren’t warned like this, and failed to stop them?!”

  Tabbit covered her mouth in terror and slipped into a chair next to her husband.

  “They’re cowards!” Perrin bellowed at the message. “Going after the most vulnerable
and innocent?! What could be easier targets than an expecting woman and her nine-moons-old daughter?! NO!”

  “Perrin, sit down,” Hogal said firmly. “Now.”

  Perrin’s broad chest heaved up and down as he met Hogal’s determined gaze. For a tiny old man, he was profoundly persuasive.

  Perrin eventually sighed, picked up his chair, and sat down again. With his head in his hands he murmured, “How do I fight this, Hogal?”

  “With one hundred soldiers, Perrin!” Hogal reminded him. “Keep her under guard, at all times.”

  “Or make up an excuse and move her and Jaytsy to the guest rooms at the fort,” Tabbit suggested. “Say there are bugs infesting the house, and it needs to be cleaned out with herbs that might affect your next baby.”

  Hogal nodded. “Not a bad idea.”

  “There are no bugs in the middle of Raining Season,” Perrin mumbled in irritation. “Not under a foot of snow. And Mahrree would never agree to living at the fort. Sorry, Auntie,” he said more quietly. “I didn’t mean to get angry.”

  She patted his hand. “You have every right, Perrin.”

  “Perrin, just tell her. She’s an intelligent, thoughtful woman. She can handle this,” Hogal promised.

  Perrin looked at him glumly. “When she’s not expecting, yes, she’s a very intelligent, thoughtful woman. But when she’s expecting? She’s a little . . . emotional. Even though she’s only halfway through this expecting, she’s still—well, take last week, for example. She said that since the fort had been so quiet, maybe my father would consider shutting it down and letting me take on less dangerous work, like being a rancher!”

  Hogal and Tabbit laughed sadly.

  “Obviously she doesn’t know that cattle run away from you,” Hogal said.

  Perrin smiled halfheartedly. “She didn’t believe me. But then she went on to list all kinds of other work I could do. Something safer that will ensure that our children always have a father.”

  “Perrin,” Tabbit said gently, “she knew what she was getting into when she married an officer. I talked to her about it, and so did your mother.”

  “But this is precisely the kind of thing she’s fretting about,” Perrin explained. “I know once she’s birthed this next baby, she’ll be a little more rational, but for the next three moons or so? She’s terrified something will happen to me. So how am I supposed to tell her that it’s not me she should be worried about? There’s something more,” he said, his round shoulders sagging. “We haven’t been getting much sleep lately again—”

  Tabbit frowned. “I thought Jaytsy was sleeping through the night.”

  “She is,” Perrin sighed, “but recently Mahrree’s been . . . There’s a problem. For the past week she’s already been feeling strong pains. We were up most the night last night counting them. It’s far too early, and the midwife says Mahrree needs to relax and not feel any stress so that she doesn’t risk birthing too soon. Hycymum knows, and has been coming over every day to clean up and cook, and drive Mahrree a bit crazy with too much attention, but can you imagine what this kind of news would do to Mahrree? She could lose the baby.” His voice cracked and he stared at the table again.

  “I had no idea!” Tabbit whispered. “I’ll go over tomorrow to help Hycymum. Maybe I can entertain Jaytsy.”

  “Thank you, Auntie,” he smiled at her, but his eyes were wet. “We didn’t want to worry either of you, but now I see that we need all the help we can get.”

  “That’s why we’re here, my boy.” Hogal examined the message again. “No time frame given.”

  “I know,” Perrin said. “Something could happen tonight, or in five weeks from now.”

  “They always attack at night, correct?” Hogal said.

  “So far. Which means I need to beef up patrols every night until something happens, but we can’t look like we’re expecting something. They’ll strike when we appear the most susceptible. They likely won’t want to be out in the freezing temperatures for long. Their black attire stands out rather well against the whiteness . . .” His voice trailed off. “Black against white . . .”

  Hogal and Tabbit exchanged glances. Tabbit immediately recognized the rector’s look of, We need to be alone, dearest.

  Tabbit nodded at her husband, got out of her chair, and went over to kiss her niece’s son on the cheek. “You’ll find a way to succeed, Perrin. I have complete faith in you. Mahrree, Jaytsy, and the new baby will all be fine.”

  “Thank you, Auntie.” He gave her a practiced smile.

  After Tabbit left, Hogal said, “Perrin, why did you come to see me? You’re surrounded by far more experienced men than me in matters of battle and Guarders.”

  Perrin stared at the table. “About eleven years ago I sat with you talking about things,” he said vaguely.

  “I remember,” Hogal smiled. “That was a wonderful time.”

  Perrin scoffed. “I was an insufferable eighteen-year-old beast! You’re too kind. Always were.” He paused, then said, “One evening you were teaching me about . . . the Refuser.”

  Hogal nodded slowly. “I remember that quite well, too. What did I say to you then?”

  Perrin continued to examine the table, yet without fully seeing it. “That he was a son of the Creator who refused to take this test we’re all in, and that many of the Creator’s children followed him into exile. Their spirits are here, in this world. While the Creator gave us this world, the Refuser stole it for himself and has sought to control and destroy those of us willing to take the test. He’s here, with those who followed him, making this existence as miserable as possible.”

  “Very good,” Hogal said. “You could teach it for me this Holy Day.”

  Perrin didn’t smile.

  “But that wasn’t all I told you, was it, my boy?”

  Perrin shook his head. “No,” he whispered. “You said something else that I’ve chosen to forget over the years, but keeps coming back at the most unexpected moments. It came back again today, when I opened this message.”

  “What did I tell you eleven years ago, Perrin?”

  After a long pause, Perrin said quietly, “That the Refuser knows me intimately. That while he hates all of us, he feels that hatred even more keenly for me. There are a few he most ardently seeks to destroy, and I am near the top of that list. The world really is out to get me.”

  Hogal sighed. “Perrin, you have no idea how hard it was for me to say that to an eighteen-year-old boy. But you had to know it. I didn’t know if I would ever get another chance, and I also knew I would never get a decent night’s sleep until I did. For weeks I was plagued with the same dream and the same message that I had to deliver to you.”

  “Why me, Hogal?” Perrin whispered. His chin began to tremble and he pressed his lips together tightly for a moment to regain control. “Why my wife? My children? They’re so innocent.”

  “I really don’t know, Perrin.” Hogal’s voice grew husky. “You must have a great future ahead of you. Enormous power, influence, abilities. The Refuser targets those who can do the most damage to him and his plans. You could take it as a great compliment that he hates you so much.”

  Perrin rolled his eyes. “I’ve done nothing special, Hogal! Not as if I’ll do anything important, either.”

  “What did you tell me you were going to become, the first day of that visit eleven years ago, Perrin? Remember?”

  Perrin closed his eyes. “I don’t want to be a general anymore, Hogal,” he said. “I look at what my father does, and who he does it with—I want nothing of that life. But I could never tell him that. I don’t ever want to leave Edge. I can’t be the general.”

  Hogal put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t think about that right now, Perrin. Much can happen in the next twenty years. Think instead about the next twenty days. Or twenty minutes. You’re not alone in this. When the Refuser targets someone, who steps in to help?”

  “The Creator,” Perrin said, his voice breaking.

  Hogal slid the not
e over to him. “Here’s the first bit of assistance. Someone with knowledge, on their side, went to extraordinary measures to get this to you.”

  “And I wonder why.” Perrin picked it up. “If they’re so evil—”

  “Not necessarily, Perrin. Each one of us has tendencies towards good and evil. The test of this existence is to see how often we listen to one side or the other. What do we truly crave, the light or the darkness? Whoever sent this to you has spent much of his life in darkness, but occasionally a spark of light catches his eyes, triggers his conscience, and reminds him of who he truly is—a child of the Creator, not a slave of the Refuser. For one moment the author of that note followed that memory and was seared by a conscience he’s neglected for who knows how long. I’ll pray tonight that he clings to it.”

  “Then so will I, as well as pray for many other things,” Perrin murmured.

  “For what it’s worth, Perrin, I think you would make a fantastic general. The world needs to be led by men like you.”

  “Right now, I think I’d do better leading a herd of cattle.”

  Hogal smiled faintly. “You need to go, Perrin. I feel that nothing will happen tonight, but very soon. You need to start preparing immediately.”

  “I feel it too. We’ll be up all night working on plans. I refuse to give in to the Refuser. Hogal, pray for me?”

  “I always am, my boy.”

  ---

  Mahrree’s mouth moved up and down before she could make any words come out. “But . . . you barely got in! And you have to go out again? All night?!”

  “I’m sorry, again,” he said, kissing her on the lips. “But you just said, you haven’t felt any pains since midday meal, right? Maybe the danger has passed.”

  She didn’t kiss him back. “But . . . I was really counting on you being here tonight.”

  His eyes sparked mischievously. “Mm, so was I! A few things to argue about . . .”

  Mahrree exhaled in exasperation. “You know what I mean! Besides that.” She giggled in spite of her frustration. “I need an extra set of hands to help me with her,” she gestured to Jaytsy who was crawling fast to her father.