The Forest at the Edge of the World

by Mercer, Trish

  “You couldn’t even give me one full day to enjoy my victory, could you?” Perrin opened his eyes to glare, only half in jest.

  “Oh, they’re cheering you, Perrin Shin!” Hogal declared with smile. “In the Paradise of our ancestors, there’s great rejoicing!”

  Perrin scoffed. “If you say so, Hogal Densal. I’m not hearing much.”

  “We rarely do, but trust me: they’re there.”

  His nephew smiled faintly, and then it faded. “How can I tell Mahrree any of this?”

  “Don’t tell her my impressions about your family, my boy. Simply tell her about what happened in the forest.” Hogal put the soiled bandages in a bag to be washed later. “She already suspects something else happened. Your lieutenant told me—of all your planning and care, there was one detail that was overlooked.”

  “What detail?”

  “Your uniform. Completely undamaged and unbloodied?”

  Perrin groaned. “My uniform! How could I have forgotten that? What did she say?”

  “Not much, but thanked your officers for taking care of you and her. Uh, Perrin,” Hogal paused. “Exactly what were you wearing, if not your uniform?”

  “White furry butterflies,” his nephew grumbled.

  Hogal pondered that. “I see. And exactly how hard do they hit you to knock you unconscious? They’re sure planking doesn’t cause any memory problems?”

  A voice prevented Perrin’s response. “I believe you’re expecting this?” Tabbit said brightly as she came in with a bucket half filled with snow, the weight of it slowing her down to a shuffle. Her smile vanished when she saw the ragged wound that was nearly the width of her nephew’s back. “Oh. My. If Joriana saw that she’d—”

  Hogal held up his hand for the bucket. “Thank you, my dearest. Why don’t you go back and help with dinner?”

  “Hycymum’s got it,” she said, her voice breaking and her eyes transfixed by the oozing around the stitches.

  “Then ask Mahrree for some thick cloths to put around the snow on his back, so as it melts it won’t make the bed wet.”

  “We have enough of that with Jaytsy in our bed so often,” Perrin chuckled quietly, trying to lighten his great aunt’s—and his—mood.

  Tabbit’s shocked expression softened to hear her nephew joking. “Yes, of course,” she said, backing up. “Thick cloths, on the way!”

  Mahrree’s voice came from the washing room. “I’ve got them already, Tabbit. Why don’t you go help my mother? I still can’t follow her kitchen talk.”

  Tabbit nodded and willingly headed back to the kitchen as Mahrree came and kneeled down next to her husband.

  Perrin glanced at her furtively, trying to see that small woman with delicate hands, growing belly, and soft yet piercing eyes of green—

  No, wait.

  Gray, or . . .

  Moldy mud?

  Well, while he still couldn’t figure out the exact color of her eyes—her eyes that were trying hard to be brave, but were unsuccessfully masking her horror—there was something he did know: she wasn’t nearly as brave as she pretended to be. Oh sure, she talked a supposedly dangerous talk on the platform, but no one ever took Edgers seriously. Idumea knew all intelligence was centered in the middle of the world, and it became diluted the further one travelled away. By Edge of the World, people were considered geniuses if they could put a hat on the correct body part.

  And Mahrree knew that, too. She never would have been so brave on the platform in Pools, or even Mountseen. And it’s not as if she’d ever be bold enough to enter the forests. How can one be dangerous without courage? No, underneath it all she was timid and wary and that was exactly the way Perrin wanted her—

  Most dangerous woman.

  Maybe it was because Hogal was still in the room that the improbable words insisted on mashing themselves into his brain. He tried to shake them loose as he looked at her perfect lips pursed in worry. How could she possibly ever be dangerous? What in the world could that mean?

  No. No, Hogal must have gotten it wrong.

  Although Hogal never got things wrong.

  Perrin decided not to think about it anymore. Besides, something more immediately worrying was about to happen.

  Mahrree took a deep breath and said analytically, “So, I suppose it could be worse.” But her tone suggested she’d never seen anything so terrible in her life as the roughly stitched gash. She placed some of the thick cloths around his wound. “Then, um, we’re to pile the snow on it, a few inches deep,” she said in an almost passable imitation of the surgeon, if her voice hadn’t been quavering. “The cold numbs the area while also controlling bleeding and swelling. We’ll do it again before you go to sleep tonight—”

  She accidentally brushed one of the thick black-threaded stitches, and he flinched.

  “I’m so sorry!” she whispered, the last of her detached pretense vanishing.

  “Mahrree, shall I—” Hogal started, but Mahrree shook her head.

  “No. No, I can do this. Thank you, Hogal. My husband, my responsibility. So,” she said trying to calm her voice, “do we put the snow on in layers, or just as one clump?”

  “I’m not sure,” Perrin said, his eyes squeezed shut in anticipation. “Perhaps just plop it all on at once, so you don’t have to look at it anymore. It will probably all feel the same to me.”

  Hogal gently scooted Jaytsy to the far side of the bed, making sure her thumb stayed in her mouth so she’d remain asleep.

  Mahrree nodded a thanks and plunged her hands into the bucket to pull out a mass of cold icy snow. “At least you got injured during the Raining Season, when we have all this snow.” She winced as she dropped it on the jagged injury.

  Perrin writhed and arched his back.

  “I’m so sorry!” Mahrree gasped.

  “No, just cold!” Perrin gasped back. “Really, it’s good, it’s good.”

  “If you say so,” she whimpered, putting another handful on his back and smoothing it to cover evenly.

  He squirmed and shut his eyes tight, a strangling noise coming from his throat.

  “What is it?” Mahrree whispered frantically.

  “Leaking. Down my side. Tickles,” he breathed. “Wipe it up!”

  Mahrree broke into a relieved grin and took an unused cloth to wipe the melted snow that the dam of cloths failed to retain.

  “Thank you, my darling wife,” he whispered.

  “Anything for you!”

  Hogal patted Mahrree on the arm. “I think you’ve got things here. I’ll see if Hycymum needs a taster,” and he shuffled off to the kitchen.

  Perrin’s shoulders relaxed as he grew used to the freezing sensation numbing his back. With Hogal gone, it was easier to push aside what his great uncle suspected about his family. For a moment he could even ignore the idea that it was the “most dangerous woman in the world” he trusted with his injury.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked Mahrree.

  “I’m all right,” she assured him, wiping up more melting snow that trickled down his ribs. “How are you?”

  “It’s not as bad as it seems. I should be able to get up and walk around tomorrow. Help you a bit.”

  “Don’t need to,” she said. “My mother and Tabbit cooked enough for us for days and Mother also did the washing, so we can rest here and enjoy watching Jaytsy destroy the house.”

  He chuckled quietly. “You know, I was thinking that under different circumstances, this would be rather romantic. Our bed on the floor in front of the fireplace . . .” He turned slightly and raised his eyebrows suggestively at her.

  She giggled. “Your back incapacitating you, our daughter here, my mother and your great aunt and uncle in the kitchen . . .”

  “So, you do want to argue?” he said in the low rumbling voice that he knew always drove her to distraction.

  But sometimes, a woman simply won’t be distracted.

  “How can you be thinking like that at a time like this?” She chuckled as she continue
d wiping.

  “What else should I be thinking about?” he asked, trying to avoid the many thoughts clogging his mind.

  “Your story.”

  “What story?”

  “The one you should be coming up with, to explain why you’re wounded, but your uniform is unscathed?” She raised her eyebrows at him, but she wasn’t suggesting the same thing he was a minute ago.

  Perrin exhaled as he stared into the fire. “I was wondering when you might ask. Thought I might have more time, but . . . Mahrree, I really didn’t want to tell you this. I wanted to spare you the knowledge that, well, that your husband’s an idiot.”

  Mahrree nodded soberly as she readjusted a cloth. “It’s all right. From our first debate I had my suspicions.”

  He smiled. “Well, here it is. You realize that men are merely overgrown boys, right?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “And that sometimes men will dare each other to do stupid things, like boys dare each other?”

  “Well, this is far more interesting than I anticipated. Go on.”

  “And the later at night, the more outlandish those dares become?”

  “I’m not going to lie, Perrin—I’m praying we have another girl.”

  “Well, Mahrree—” he decided not to tell her Hogal already knew it was a boy, “—it’s like this: in Command School there was this dare. The older classes would dare the younger classes to run across the campus in the middle of the night during the coldest part of Raining Season in only their . . . underpants. And sometimes even less than that.”

  “Uh-huh,” Mahrree said thoughtfully. “I see why women are not allowed in Command School. Here I always thought it was because they were considered less intelligent.”

  “Well, Karna and I were getting bored last night, so we started reminiscing about life in Command School, and well . . . he went first since he’s younger. He stripped and ran to the feed barns and back. I told him that wasn’t impressive, so I went next. Stripped down to my underpants, mounted my horse, and rode to the forest.”

  “Any mead involved?”

  “Mahrree, you know I never drink mead.”

  “So you were completely sober when you did this.” She shook her head. “Somehow that just makes it all worse.”

  “My horse grew skittish and bucked, and the next thing I know I’m flying backwards in the air, right towards a dead tree. So if it seemed to you as if my officers were trying to cover up something, it’s because we’re all idiots. Neeks was going to go next—something about proving enlisted men’s worth—until he saw what happened. I understand his trousers were off.”

  “Hmm. Indeed, you all are idiots,” she decided. “Tell me, does this dare involve anything else, like perhaps a white scarf?”

  Perrin swallowed, having forgotten about that as his story had unraveled in his mind.

  “Because, you see,” she continued casually as she put another pile of snow on his wound, “I was looking for mine earlier. I never wear it because I think white is impractical, but I thought it might be comfortable to wrap around your bandages. Yet I can’t find it anywhere. Almost,” she said slowly, “as if it were Guarder snatched.”

  Perrin hesitated for only a moment before ignoring her last comment. “Yes, yes the dare does involve a bit more. I took the scarf last night expecting this might happen. The actual dare is, ‘Run across the campus wearing only a piece of your girlfriend’s clothing.’”

  “Rather wordy.”

  “Rather drafty. At least I won last night, since I’m the only one with a ‘girlfriend.’ Lost the scarf, though. Sorry.” He didn’t add, Because it likely was Guarder snatched.

  “I guess I should be proud of you. And that’s the story you’re sticking with?”

  He blinked in innocence.

  She smiled sweetly.

  “I just confessed to being an idiot! You really think there’s something more?”

  She kissed his cheek. “Have I told you today that you are the most perfect man in the world, and that I love and adore you more than words can say?”

  He smiled. “I love you, too.”

  “I think that’s obvious. Now, not that I wasn’t thoroughly entertained by your story—although I really didn’t need that image of Grandpy Neeks and his lack of trousers because now I can’t seem to shake it,” she shuddered dramatically as Perrin chuckled, “—I’m merely wondering, how long until you tell me the truth?”

  He sighed. “As long as I can get away with it.”

  “You have to report this injury to Idumea, you know. Too many soldiers know about it.”

  “I know,” he whispered. “I’ll find a way to take care of that.”

  “Perrin, just tell me—what happened?” she whispered back. “While it’s jagged, this slice is too clean to be caused by a tree branch. I can tell that much. It looks more like a knife wound. Or . . . a dagger.”

  He twisted his arm to pat her belly. “At least another three moons until you can birth this one safely, right?”

  “So the midwives are guessing.”

  “I’ll tell you in thirteen weeks, then.”

  ---

  Two men sat in the dark office of an unlit building.

  They stared at each other in the growing shadows, silently daring the other to claim the upper hand.

  Brisack broke first. “Any news from the observers in the forest above Edge?”

  It was a good opening line. Didn’t claim victory or admit defeat, just asked for information.

  “No news,” Mal said plainly.

  Another good line. No concessions or challenges. Just ending his opponent’s questioning.

  “Wonder why that is,” Brisack pressed, putting the burden of response on the other party.

  “Cold weather,” Mal said shortly.

  Accurate. But also irrelevant.

  “Too cold to move messages, then,” Brisack nodded once. “But not too cold for the fort at Edge.”

  The staring match heated.

  Both men knew what news came from Edge. High General Shin had been quite vocal about what he called a deliberate attack on his son. Within minutes of the news reaching the High General, messages flew out to every fort to watch for snowy attacks, since Edge had been singled out by at least fourteen Guarders. That’s how many the soldiers encountered, Captain Shin killing eleven of them himself. And the High General made sure every last person knew that, too.

  What didn’t come from the general, interestingly, were any details. Unlike the previous time, when Captain Shin violated the first rule of the army, there was no information about the attack. Not from either of the Shins, nor from any observers in the forest.

  Everything and everyone in the north was unusually silent.

  “Forts have more resources through which to send information,” Mal explained.

  “Not that our observers might also be dead?” Brisack suggested.

  “There’s no evidence either way to form any kind of conclusions. May never be any.”

  Silently they glared at each other again, the temperature in the room increasing in relation to their tempers.

  “You said twelve,” Brisack finally seethed.

  “And you told him twelve!” Mal boiled back.

  Brisack swallowed hard, but recovered. “You have the map!”

  “He’s a test subject!”

  “And he succeeded!” Brisack bellowed. “Even against fourteen! Just as I predicted!”

  There.

  Brisack claimed victory, which meant Mal had only one option as he gripped the armrests of his chair. “You invalidated the study by influencing the test subject with your interference.”

  “You created an unnatural situation,” Brisack countered.

  “All of this is unnatural, Doctor!” Mal gestured to the shelves of his library packed with notes and writings. “But I never cheat to see a result I want!”

  “You have Wiles’s map! You told them exactly how to reach the house!”

&nbs
p; “We did the same thing in Grasses, with the captain’s sister and parents! Why is this any different than Grasses?” Mal leaned back with a smug expression. “I see it now, Doctor Brisack. You’ve lost your objectivity. Couldn’t stand to see him lose the mate and litter, so you gave him a little hint. You know Gadiman found your message.”

  “Obviously,” Brisack said steadily. “I’ve told you, he’s as subtle as a twister in Weeding Season, and just as damaging, throwing around his glares thinking no one notices. I don’t regret warning Shin. And considering how successful he was, I rather suspect he didn’t even need my warning.”

  “There will be no evidence gathered or analyzed concerning this raid,” Mal decided. “The test was compromised, so no information will be worth our effort.”

  Mal wouldn’t even evaluate his failure, and Brisack gloated about that later.

  “Anyway,” Mal’s shoulder twitched, “Perrin’s now out of the army, so—”

  “Wait a minute,” Brisack interrupted, “What do you mean, out of the army?”

  “Neeks’s report stated that the captain stepped into the forest—” Mal began calmly.

  “Only a few paces!”

  “Nevertheless, Captain Shin knew what would happen if he violated the first rule again,” Mal clasped his hands in front of him. “He would be relieved of duty, and—”

  “You haven’t done that, have you?!”

  “Tomorrow morning I’m going to visit his father,” Mal said.

  “No you won’t. You couldn’t bear to do it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You already would’ve done it if you were serious,” the doctor pointed at him, “but so much of what we do is because of him. And to lose him, already? Oh, no. If you let him go now, he’d be a regular citizen and all your connections, ability to watch and test him would be reduced to almost nothing. In a way, he’d win.”

  Mal’s shoulder twitched again.

  Brisack began to smile. “That’s it! He wins no matter what. Yesterday you didn’t push Relf about what happened, because you suspected Perrin went back in the forest, and that would kick him out of the army and your experiments. So he wins by doing what he wanted and by staying in the army. You’ve lost twice, and the captain doesn’t even realize the size of his victory!”