“Mother,” Mahrree said, “do you feel the need to clean something?”
Hycymum slapped the table. “Absolutely! Mrs. Arky, we’ll be at your house tidying up while you two rest here.”
---
Perrin surveyed the village green. The bonfire was burning well, bathing the Densals in heat and light as they shared a large blanket while huddled together on the grass. They weren’t the only ones there. A dozen or so more people shared the fire, bruises, and stories they related to the enforcement officers that took notes of what happened, with more villagers rushing over every minute.
A few paces away Staff Sergeant Gizzada, Perrin’s very round and normally jovial supply master, held out his sword tenuously. The former cook always kept it sheathed, and he continued to glance at it as if it would turn on him at any moment. His demeanor was exceptionally somber, and his dark skin paled to gray as if realized he was easily the largest target in the area. The acrobatics at the amphitheater ended early when it was realized the Guarders were attacking. Villagers who lived south of the green cautiously made their ways home in large groups for protection. But many who lived in the north decided to remain at the village green, and eagerly fled to the bonfire behind the rotund staff sergeant, feeling far more confidence in him and his trembling sword than he felt in himself.
Perrin noticed Gizzada frequently looking over at him, as if he took his bravery from the major who shouted orders to the soldiers that brought him reports. Perrin nodded back assurance to Gizzada, who seemed to grow braver once half a dozen soldiers came to help him guard the increasing mass of citizens, and his grip on his weapon became more secure.
The night was fully dark now and Perrin walked quickly over to two soldiers that rushed to the area. They were carrying a third.
“Major! The private took a knife wound to the side. But we killed the Guarder, sir! Sergeant Robi is staying with the family until someone can retrieve the body.”
“Excellent,” said Major Shin. “Bring the private over to the other side. We’re setting up a section for the wounded by the second bonfire being started. We don’t need the citizens seeing more blood.”
As Major Shin escorted the soldiers over to the more secluded spot, one of the village doctors jogged to the green, his bag in hand. “I came as soon as Chief Curglaff notified me,” he panted. “I understand we can expect more coming in?”
Major Shin nodded. “My surgeon should be joining us soon. I think the private needs attention first, but then when you’re finished, please check on Rector Densal.”
The doctor nodded and went to work.
Another soldier ran out of the darkness and up to the major.
“Well?” Shin demanded.
The soldier shook his head reluctantly. “No sign, sir.”
“Are you sure?! Did you go to the right house?!”
“I’m sure, sir,” he shrank a little under the fury in Major Shin’s eyes.
The major looked around in the dark, his lips pressed together. He groaned and looked sharply again at the soldier.
The soldier anticipated his question. “The three soldiers are there, sir, dispatched by Lieutenant Karna. The children are safe but . . . there’s still no Mrs. Shin. It seems she left, sir. On her own.”
Perrin rubbed his forehead and nearly forgot his pledge to Hogal that he would never swear. He looked around again and didn’t see what he was looking for.
“Get three more soldiers. Go in pairs. The four of you don’t stop until you find her, even if it means checking every inch all the way to the forest, understand?!”
The soldier saluted and ran his fastest into the dark.
Perrin groaned. “Mahrree, what do you think you’re doing?!”
---
When the small hours of the night arrived, the Arky gathering room looked almost as if nothing had happened. Once they got the sofa scrubbed clean, the women went to retrieve Mr. Arky. The neighborhood had been quiet for some time, so Mahrree felt confident that the second Guarder, if there had been one, was long gone.
Mr. Arky seemed to have more injury than only to his arm and face, because as they stood him up he felt a sharp pain in his ribs and his leg refused to move properly. Mahrree and Mrs. Arky supported him between them, slowly walking him across the dark gardens to his house, while Hycymum made a bed for him on their sofa—easier than trying to get him upstairs to his bedroom.
Once they gently lay him down, Mrs. Arky pushed up her husband’s trouser’s pant leg to discover an enormous bruise forming on his shin. Mr. Arky also had difficulty breathing, probably from cracked or broken ribs, but the idea of venturing into the night to find a doctor was unthinkable. Mrs. Arky bound her husband’s wounds as best she could and Hycymum gathered several pillows. Together the women found a way to try to keep Mr. Arky comfortable until dawn.
As Mr. Arky tried to rest, Mrs. Arky helped her friends sweep up glass, pick up books and scattered papers, stack broken objects carefully on the table to consider for repairing later, and discuss the most mundane things they could to keep from thinking about anything else. They speculated unemotionally about the substance used to blacken the man’s arms and face to hide himself in the shadows. They commented about the lack of quality in the vases that were cracked and broken, since they really should’ve stood up better. And they noted how much more work they seemed to get done in the middle of the night when there were no other distractions.
When the gathering room was put back together again, and the broken windows covered with old blankets, Mrs. Arky took inventory. Along with most of her silver forks and knives, she noticed that several small clay statues of pigs, covered in gold and accented with red clear stones for eyes, were missing.
“The Golden Ruby Herd,” sighed Hycymum sadly.
“They were always tacky,” Mrs. Arky declared. “My mother-in-law gave them to me, probably as a commentary on my family. I never liked her anyway.”
Next they began working on the kitchen floor and table, scrubbing the wood to remove the drying blood that Mahrree tried to imagine wasn’t Shem’s. She also tried again to not think about her husband and what he might be doing right now, and to not think about her children whom she prayed every five minutes were still sound asleep and not needing her.
Her mind was positively full of things not to think about.
Suddenly Mahrree heard horses’ hooves. She froze and looked at her mother and Mrs. Arky.
They reflected her alarmed expression.
Mahrree stood tentatively and looked out the side window over to her mother’s house.
Two soldiers rushed to the front door of Hycymum Peto’s and knocked. “Mrs. Shin, are you there?” they called loudly.
Mrs. Peto and Mrs. Arky stared at Mahrree, unsure of how to respond.
“Mother, I need to go.” Mahrree bent over and kissed her mother on the cheek.
“Please be careful!” Hycymum said.
“And thank you. And thank the soldiers,” added Mrs. Arky.
Mahrree quickly slipped through the back door, then opened it again.
“When will you women learn to lock these doors!?” She waited until she heard Mrs. Arky latch it.
She walked quickly through the identical gardens that used the same gardener. She strained in the darkness to see anything that looked like a body lying in the bushes or crushing the flowers. Seeing nothing that was shaped as Shem Zenos, she trotted to the soldiers who were beginning to go to her mother’s back door. They looked at her, then at the house in confusion.
“Ma’am? Mrs. Shin? We thought this was your mother’s house,” one of them asked.
“Yes,” she answered, “but it wasn’t the one broken into tonight, was it?” She sounded far braver than she felt.
The soldiers exchanged relieved looks, then smiled. “The major’s been looking for you, ma’am. He demands that you be brought to him immediately.”
Tears filled her eyes. He was looking for her.
Mahrree remembered
the words of her mother-in-law: his duty is first to his village. She’d assumed she wouldn’t see or hear from him until it was all over, whenever that might be. She’d be the last he’d seek out, she was sure of it.
But she was wrong. She was part of the village, so he must be concerned about her as well. Yet she knew it was more than that. She wasn’t last on his list.
She nodded at the soldiers in agreement, and as one of them helped her on the horse she realized just how exhausted and terrified she was. While the first soldier took his mount, the second soldier climbed up behind Mahrree and put his arm gingerly around her waist.
“It’s all right, soldier. You better hold me tighter. I’m not exactly a horse woman, and I’m a bit tired right now. The major will never forgive you if I fall off.”
The soldier seemed grateful for the permission. “Yes ma’am!” With a much firmer grip around her, he kicked the horse.
That’s when Mahrree remembered how much she hated riding. She would’ve complained about the jostling and the speed had she not also realized that the faster the horse moved, the sooner she could get off of it.
Within minutes they were in the center of Edge and fast approaching the fields surrounding the amphitheater. Mahrree saw two large fires and many shadows walking or sitting around them. It was an exclusive campout that the northern part of the village was invited to, but there wasn’t any singing or laughing.
As the horses slowed to a trot, then stopped, Mahrree surveyed the crowd, looking for Perrin. She didn’t immediately see him, but she recognized many of her neighbors and friends in the firelight. All of them wore expressions similar to the Arkys.
Stunned. Frightened. Angry. Weary.
And eerily quiet.
Mahrree initially thought maybe there’d be howling and shouts and loud sobbing, but every face she saw appeared too drained or simply too shocked to do much more than sit and breathe and maybe weep.
Women sat on logs next to the fire crying softly, and some held their sleepy children close to them. Men stood in small groups near their wives and spoke to each other earnestly in low voices. Beyond the first fire was a second, where several people lay on the flattened grasses and were attended to by doctors. Surrounding it all were a dozen soldiers, swords drawn, joined by several enforcement officers holding long knives, likely borrowed from the soldiers.
Even gentle, lumbering Gizzada wore an imposing look of readiness as he pointed his sword and waited for something more aggravating than an overcooked steak sandwich.
The soldier released his grip on Mahrree, slid off the horse, then helped her down. She could barely stand. So many people! More than two hundred, which must have meant there were more than fourteen Guarders this time. Mahrree sickened at the thought.
Several people looked her way and gave her weak smiles or nods.
From the corner of her eye she saw someone approaching her from the shadows of the trees, silhouetted against the second fire. The massive figure moved swiftly and menacingly. She recognized the gait and almost dreaded turning to him. As much as she wanted to see him, she didn’t want to see him like this.
Perrin grabbed her arm and spun her roughly to face him. “Where did you go? And why are you issuing commands to my soldiers?”
Mahrree bit her lower lip and tried to contain her own frustration as she looked up into his angry face.
“Major Shin,” sang a shaky voice from the fire that cut through the darkness. “You know you thank the Creator she’s well. Why don’t you give her a hug and a kiss? Make an old man happy?”
Several people laughed softly, grateful for an excuse to do so.
Mahrree glanced towards the fire and saw the Densals sitting huddled together. He heart ached at the sight of them. Hogal was bruised and Tabbit held a cloth to his face, but he nodded encouragingly at Mahrree.
She looked at her husband’s eyes and recognized the worry under his anger.
“The children are all right, aren’t they? They have three soldiers still, right?” she asked timidly.
“Yes!” he said crossly. Then his face softened slightly and he sighed. “But from what I’ve heard, I don’t think Private Aims will recover too quickly, being forced into baby tending.”
A smile was trying to form around his lips, but he killed it. He took her by the shoulders.
“Don’t you ever, ever do that again! We’ve discussed what to do. We’ve practiced it. You secure the house, and you stay!”
He’d forgotten he had an audience until he heard his great uncle say sharply, “Perrin!” His soft gentleness was gone, as was his patience with his nephew.
Startled, Mahrree didn’t dare peek to see the expression on Rector Densal’s face that matched his reprimand.
Without taking his eyes off his wife, Major Shin raised his voice. “Tabbit, can’t you do anything about your husband?”
“I’m afraid not,” she replied feebly. “You best make him happy, Perrin.”
Perrin glanced at his relatives then looked back at his wife who was doing her best to look apologetic.
Mahrree saw a familiar spark in his eye, dimly.
He turned her roughly again, this time positioning himself between her and the villagers.
“Just to make the old man happy,” he said, “but he doesn’t get to watch.” He kissed her quickly and gave her a hug so tight that he squeezed tears from her eyes. “Don’t make me have to worry about you like that again!” he said in her ear.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” she whispered, grateful to feel his arms around her. One storm passed, she thought briefly, while another still raged.
“Ahh, that’s much better!” Hogal’s cheerful voice came to them again from the fire.
A few chuckles accompanied him.
Perrin and Mahrree pulled apart to hear the rector say, “And that, my friends, is how they should have ended that nasty second debate of theirs—in each other’s arms! Well, as they say, best now than never was. Now, Tabbit, I can die a happy man.”
Perrin turned and glared at him, but gave him a quick wink. Mahrree giggled nervously and sent a look of thanks to Hogal.
He nodded back briefly, waggled his eyebrows, then winced slightly as the motion reminded him of the bruises spreading on his face.
Tabbit immediately placed the damp cloth on his cheek again.
Perrin turned to Mahrree with a completely different face. Major Shin was back on duty. “Can you help?”
Mahrree shook the exhausted fog out of her head. “Yes, yes. What do you need?”
“Help with the wounded.”
He led her to the other side of the second fire where close to twenty people lay on fort-issued blankets. Two men, with numerous gashes and cuts, were trying unsuccessfully to rest on the ground, while their wives received instructions from one of the village doctors on how to treat their wounds. An older man cradled his adult daughter’s head as the fort’s surgeon gently pressed around her belly, and she cringed in pain. A child with extensive bruises huddled quietly in his mother’s arms, sniffling as she stroked his hair, and several soldiers lay side by side, with a variety of body parts wrapped and splinted.
Further in the distance, beyond the glow of the fire, were three bodies covered completely.
“Oh Perrin,” she stopped in her tracks when she saw them. “Who?”
“Guarders,” he said coolly. “And, so you don’t have to ask me later, two by my hand. One was at Tabbit and Hogal’s, the other was here trying to get into the trees. Fortunately for me he was a poor climber for someone raised in the forests.”
Mahrree hadn’t looked at his clothes yet, but in the flickering bonfire she could see splashed evidence of what Perrin had done. The first thing her weary brain thought was, That new jacket’s going to need a lot of soaking—
“Over here,” he pulled her away. “This one needs your special attention.”
Mahrree stopped suddenly at the quiet body lying at her feet, and she whimpered softly as she gazed up
on the almost-unrecognizable face of Corporal Shem Zenos.
The fort surgeon joined them. In his blunt way he said, “Mrs. Shin—obviously found to be safe. Good. Corporal Zenos here suffered severe head trauma, not sure how. Soldiers found him stumbling aimlessly a few roads away from here.”
“I know how he got hurt,” Mahrree whispered.
Perrin looked at her quizzically.
“In the Arkys’ house. He was fighting the Guarder. Shem’s head was . . .”
Mahrree couldn’t use the same words Mr. Arky had.
“—into the table. The corner of it. I was about to clean the table when you sent for me.”
Perrin nodded in understanding.
The surgeon nodded too. “That’s consistent with the trauma. Mrs. Shin, stay with him and watch him closely. Change his bandages, monitor his bleeding, keep a finger on his pulse. Tell me when he gets worse—labored breathing or slowing heart rate. Talk to him. Let me know if he regains consciousness. Major, looks like we have more coming in.” The surgeon jogged away into the darkness.
Mahrree gulped hard at the words “when he gets worse . . . if he regains consciousness.”
She knelt down and peeled back the cloth to more clearly see the swelling on Shem’s head. She was grateful the lighting was so bad.
Perrin squeezed her shoulder then strode away after the surgeon.
She vaguely heard him shouting to another group of soldiers that rode into the camp. Something else was happening, but Mahrree had no more energy to worry about it. She could think only of Shem. She took new bandages and carefully laid them on the bulge on his forehead that slowly oozed.
“Shem, Shem,” she whispered. “You look terrible. What happened to you?” Her lip quivered. The more she thought about his misshapen forehead, the more she realized how serious his condition was.
“Shem, you can’t go now! I haven’t found you a wife yet. I promised you.”
She quit fighting the tears and let them fall on his bruised face. She guiltily wiped them off with the hem of her cloak then wondered what else she could do. For as close as he was to them, she knew very little about him. She’d asked him a few times about his family, but all he said was that he had an older sister and two nieces. His mother had passed away when he was young, but he still had a father. He said he didn’t like to talk about them much because then he missed them more. Mahrree prayed they were safe. Then she prayed for Shem, and wondered how she could contact his family if . . .
Soldier at the Door (Forest at the Edge) Page 28
