Soldier at the Door (Forest at the Edge)

by Mercer, Trish

  No.

  She wouldn’t let it happen. Not if the Creator would let him stay.

  She sat down more comfortably in the dirt. The surgeon said talk to him, she reminded herself. She searched for the right words. None came, but she had to say something.

  “Shem! My children still need an uncle,” she whispered earnestly. “Their only grandfather sees them only twice a year, and even then he doesn’t hold them because he says his medals will scratch their faces.” She chuckled sadly. “I need you!”

  She thought she saw the corner of his mouth twitch slightly.

  Encouraged, she tried some more. Leaning closer she said, “Shem, they need an uncle to tie up! We need to train you for your own family. Don’t you dare go, you hear me? What would I say to your father? I’ve never even met him.”

  She watched the edge of his mouth closely.

  Nothing.

  She sighed and leaned against a log that stood nearby. She had no idea what to do next. “Ah, Shem. Please, don’t leave us. I don’t have much confidence in Aims. He’d be a terrible replacement.” She sniffed and sighed again. “Shem, who am I kidding? No one could replace you.”

  She took up his still hand and was comforted that it felt warm. She slid a finger over to his wrist to feel his pulse. Still there. She noticed Perrin watching her from across the fire and she shook her head.

  He gave her a quick nod, then turned back to discuss something with the chief of enforcement.

  She searched for things to say, but felt silly talking out loud. But then again, no one else was near enough to hear.

  “He has plans for you, Zenos. When your two years are up, he wants you to reenlist, long-term. He needs you, too. The major thinks you have great potential, Zenos!” She watched his mouth.

  Nothing.

  She exhaled. She knew what she wanted to say, but hesitated. She looked at the bulge on his head, then closed her eyes. She’d always regret not telling him if she didn’t do it now, if it became too late. She took a deep breath and squeezed his hand.

  “Shem, I want you to know, you’re like . . . you’re like the younger brother neither of us had. We both feel it. We didn’t even know we needed a brother until you came along. Not merely because we use you as a baby tender,” she chuckled sadly, “but because you fit with us. I think Perrin sends us messages just to see you and give you a reason to visit the children and me. Last week, when you came by at dinner with that message from the fort and finally agreed to stay to eat with us, it felt so natural. You feel like family, Shem. Our family.”

  Mahrree looked around, feeling embarrassed to have revealed so much out loud. No one was around that was conscious enough to hear her. She looked at Shem’s face.

  Still nothing.

  She squeezed his hand again. “Now, for your family, Shem Zenos, open your eyes. Let me know you’re all right then we can both sleep a while.”

  She paused.

  “As an annoying older sister, I demand you give me a sign you are in there. Call me Mahrree, and I’ll let you sleep!”

  Nothing.

  “All right, as the wife of your major, I insist . . .”

  She gave up.

  “Oh Shem.” She rubbed his hand absent-mindedly and wondered what a big sister would do to take the dried blood off it. She didn’t want to leave his side, even for a moment, to get a wet cloth from the surgeon’s aid. She smiled as an idea came to her.

  “Did I ever tell you about our last debate and what Rector Densal did to us? Since you can’t interrupt or protest, you’re going to hear about it. He started off by getting suggestions from the children for debates, or so he said . . .”

  For the next hour and a half Mahrree talked to the still figure of Shem, telling him in detail about the topics Hogal had lined up for them, including the suggestion that they debate about continuing the debates as husband and wife.

  She ignored the arrival of additional wounded and dead Guarders. It was only when Perrin stood over her that she looked up. Behind him the coming dawn lightened the sky. Mahrree saw soldiers walking behind him carrying another wrapped body.

  “Mahrree,” Perrin’s voice was heavy. “That Guarder body they’re bringing in was just taken at our house. The soldier at our front door was wounded. We were fortunate that two passing soldiers brought down the Guarder, or else. . .” He shook his head not wanting to finish the sentence.

  “Perrin,” Mahrree gasped. “Our babies!” She struggled to her feet, barely remembering to place Shem’s hand back carefully on the ground.

  “They’re still safe,” he said, taking her in his arms and kissing her quickly on her forehead. “But the corporal here will take you home.”

  For once Mahrree wished a horse could have travelled faster. She didn’t even wait for the corporal to help her off as they stopped in front of her house. She fell gracelessly on the cobblestones and scrambled to her front door. Mrs. Hersh was already in the yard trying vainly to sweep the blood off the weedy dirt.

  The soldier at the door saluted when he saw her. “Ma’am, no one’s gone in or out.”

  “I know. Well done, Private!” She walked up to the door and tried to open it. “Aims!” she shouted. “It’s all right! Let me in. I relieve you of duty.”

  She heard footsteps come down the stairs and a moment later the door was unlatched and the iron bars shifted.

  Private Aims opened the door, his sword still at the ready. “All is quiet, ma’am. Has been all night. And I thank you for helping me realize that I’m not yet ready to marry or be a father.” Then he marched out smartly.

  Mahrree rushed up the stairs and quietly entered her bedroom. Her two children continued to sleep peacefully, sprawled on the large bed. Mahrree sighed a prayer of gratitude and crawled into bed between them. She wrapped an arm around each little body and fell into a gloriously deep sleep.

  ---

  Three hours later, with the sun climbing the morning sky, a bleary-eyed mother and her two happily awake toddlers secured in a wagon made their way through the quiet yet surprisingly busy roads. People stood in small huddles of discussion all along the way. No one, it seemed, had slept in Edge, and it showed in their haggard faces.

  Two soldiers accompanied the little family outing to the village green, and stood guard once the mother nodded her thanks to them. The bonfires had died away, but half the village was now there, giving reports to enforcement officers and Lieutenant Karna, who had come down from the fort.

  Mahrree knew this wasn’t the best place to bring her family, but she suspected Perrin would feel better seeing that his children were safe. Edgers comforted their friends and neighbors, fashioned ways to carry the wounded back to their homes, and—she noticed with no small sense of pride—looked at the major with immense respect.

  As she made her way slowly through the quiet crowd to the make-shift command center, several people stopped her for a hug and patted her children’s heads. For as terrible as the night had been, many seemed to realize that it could have been far worse. She picked up snatches of conversations as she passed.

  “The soldiers were right there—the Guarder couldn’t do much but fight them.”

  “It seems there were at least twenty of them.”

  “Only in the first group! I heard that one scout saw them come running out of the woods west of here and was immediately on their trail. Without him, who knows . . .”

  “I have to admit, my faith in the Administrators just increased. They really knew what they were talking about.”

  When Mahrree heard that her stomach churned unexpectedly.

  Sometimes, it all seemed so convenient.

  She shook the thought out of her head, too weary to think.

  There was a clearing between the villagers and a small group of people which consisted of the magistrate, Perrin, and the two other rectors and their wives, all in deep conversation. The women had lists and Mahrree suspected more cleaning details were being formed.

  She glanced over
to the wounded. All of the soldiers were still lying on the ground, but wagons were approaching to convey them back to the fort. She heard familiar footsteps behind her, and they weren’t nearly as angry as a few hours before.

  “Mahrree!” Perrin said, and she turned to give him her best smile. His face looked more like a weary husband and father now rather than the Commander of Edge. He hugged her and sighed. “The children look well,” he whispered in her ear. “How are you?”

  “I’m perfectly fine,” she whispered back. “The major did a wonderful job last night. How are you?”

  Perrin pulled away and shook his head slightly. They would talk later, Mahrree knew. He crouched down and hugged his children who tried to get out of the wagon to be with him.

  “In a moment, I promise.” Then he reconsidered and quickly untied their ropes. His eyes were damp as he scooped up his daughter and son and held them close in each arm.

  “Let’s go check on Zenos,” he said to Mahrree. “I’ve spent some time with all of the wounded, and I’m confident each will recover, since Grandpy Neeks already told them they would. They seem to be in reasonably good spirits. But Zenos . . . he’s still unresponsive.”

  She’d dreaded this moment. They made their way to the soldiers lying on the ground and stopped at Shem. Mahrree couldn’t see any change in his condition. And fortunately his face was so bruised and swollen that Jaytsy and Peto didn’t recognize him, or they would have interpreted his prone position as an invitation to wriggle down from their father to jump on his stomach.

  Mahrree knelt down by his side and looked under his bandages. The swelling seemed to have gone down a bit, and the oozing had dried, but he was far too still.

  “Oh, Shem,” Mahrree whispered miserably.

  Perrin kicked his boot gently. “Up, Corporal! No more of this lounging around. You think you earned a rest last night? Simply because you saw them first? That wasn’t my deal. I said a day off for the man who first sees a Guarder after the conflict was over. Not in the middle of it!” Perrin exhaled and looked at Mahrree.

  She raised her eyebrows at him. “You really think he would want to wake up for that?” she scolded.

  “Lies,” someone whispered.

  Perrin and Mahrree looked quickly at Corporal Zenos.

  The corner of Shem’s mouth tugged slightly. “Major lies,” he whispered and his face contorted into a pitiful smile.

  “Shem!” Mahrree cried and grabbed his hand.

  Perrin crouched down by his side, trying to balance his children on each knee. “Shem, what are you trying to say?”

  Their favorite soldier slowly opened the one eye that wasn’t swollen shut. “You, sir, lie,” he whispered slowly. “Sheep can’t build houses.”

  Perrin stared at Mahrree, flabbergasted.

  Mahrree’s mouth fell open in understanding. The fifth debate. The house-building sheep and wolf story Perrin had made up to describe why stone was better than wood in house construction. Shem heard what she had said to him during the night.

  He may have heard everything she said to him.

  Perrin looked at Mahrree, devastated. “Brain injury?” he mouthed.

  Mahrree laughed softly. “No Perrin, I think he’s going to be all right! And actually,” she said worriedly, “we may now be in even bigger danger.”

  Perrin turned fully to her, quite a feat considering he was still balancing a child on each bent leg. “Exactly what did you say to him last night?”

  “Enough to get him up, right?” Mahrree shrugged.

  She squeezed Shem’s hand and he tried to wink at her with his one good eye. It was such a pathetic attempt that Perrin and Mahrree both laughed.

  “Shem,” Perrin whispered so that no one else could hear, “don’t you ever scare me like that again. You understand?”

  The corporal smiled faintly. “You’ve just called me Shem twice, sir,” he mumbled slowly, “and we’re both in uniform and not at your house. May have to report you for that.”

  Perrin grinned. “Yep—he’s going to be fine. Not sure that’s a good thing, now . . .”

  The surgeon verified their optimistic diagnosis a few minutes later, and three soldiers carefully loaded Zenos into a litter to bring him back to the fort.

  Mahrree noticed one of the village doctors standing by silently watching them. She didn’t think much of it until he approached them after they said farewell to Shem.

  “Would you follow me please, Shin family?” he said kindly.

  They would have followed him over the mountain had he asked it. The world had a little bit of justice again, Mahrree decided. The Guarder threat was fully contained. None of the young men who fought for the village had perished, all villagers were accounted for, albeit many were injured and terrorized, and even Zenos was still willing to risk life and limb to tease his commander.

  And that commander, now replaced by a relieved father, alternated kissing the foreheads of his children to make them giggle. An enormous burden seemed to have lifted as Perrin carried his little ones, and he smiled easily. Mahrree put her arm contentedly around her husband as they walked. The Guarders may have infiltrated the village this time, but Major Shin was still victorious.

  The doctor led them over to the smoking remains of the bonfire where a few tired villagers remained. Tabbit sat quietly on the matted grass with Hogal’s head cradled peacefully in her lap. Perrin and Mahrree stopped suddenly when they saw their favorite nosy old couple. Tabbit’s eyes were red and she gave them a courageous smile.

  Her husband was unnaturally still.

  “It’s all right, Perrin,” she said. “Remember, Hogal did say he could die a happy man.”

  Chapter 12 ~ “You want to save the world?

  Then let’s save it!”

  It wasn’t until well after midday meal time that Perrin finally came home and sat dully at the table. He didn’t even notice his food Mahrree placed before him, even though he hadn’t eaten since the day before.

  Mahrree sat down across from him and reached out to touch his hand.

  He pulled it away.

  “I did get there in time, Mahrree,” he said dully, staring at some distant point on the wall. “I had a very clear thought. And I ran. I arrived only seconds after the Guarder did. I saw him break through their back door. He punched Hogal. I surprised him from behind and dragged him out of the house. He pulled his dagger. I disabled him with a kick to his chest, then I drew my sword. One clean thrust, it was done. Exactly how we train for it. Perfect.”

  He stared at the wall as if he could bore a hole in it if given enough time.

  “It was too quick. I see that now,” he decided. “I should’ve made him fight. I should’ve made him identify himself. I should’ve just started cutting off limbs to get him to talk—”

  “PERRIN!” Mahrree snapped.

  He stopped and focused on her horrified eyes. The hard lines on his face began to soften. He stared at her for a few moments before he slowly shook his head.

  “I did the right thing, I know. The doctor said he thought it was his heart. He was eighty-four, after all. Not up to taking surprises. I couldn’t have gotten there any sooner. That’s not the way to die,” he finished in a whisper.

  “Yes, yes it is, Perrin!” Mahrree told him. “His heart failing while being attacked by a stranger—that’s not a way to die. But peacefully in the arms of his wife? He did say he was happy, Perrin. You made him happy, remember? It was simply his time to go. The Creator said we each have a time to live here, and then we return. And you made that return peaceful, not terrifying. You did everything right.”

  He sighed. “Sometimes I think I understand the Creator, but then there are times like . . .” He paused. “I almost felt it this morning when Zenos . . . I was praying for Shem and the other soldiers, but I should have been . . . I didn’t even think that Hogal—” He stopped again and went back to boring a hole in the rock with his eyes.

  “Just wait,” she said earnestly. “You’ll feel som
ething different soon. Don’t doubt what you were prompted to do. No matter what was happening today, he most likely would’ve died. It was the manner of Hogal’s passing that you assured. Just feel him, and you’ll know he’s well on the other side.”

  Mahrree could see in the darkness of his eyes that he didn’t believe her. Or want to believe her. But she couldn’t understand why. Already that morning she felt Hogal’s distinct presence nearby, along with her father’s. Sometimes Mahrree wondered if Paradise wasn’t actually all around them. Today, the air was thick with it.

  “I’ve felt him,” she told Perrin gently. “He’s not sad or angry—he’s joyful! He’s still with us. Oh, I wished I could have seen the reunion between him and my father!” Mahrree smiled, recalling the sense of cosmic chuckling that accompanied their presence. “I’m sure they have plenty to catch up on, probably about how they got the two of us together.”

  Perrin searched her face, but his own expression was as cold and hard as a boulder.

  “Perrin, death isn’t the end,” Mahrree tried again. “It’s only a change. And there’s no tragedy in death, only tragedy in failing the Test.” Desperate to see anything else on his face besides his morbid bitterness, she pleaded, “You know that, now believe it! Hogal Densal didn’t fail, Perrin. And you didn’t fail Hogal.”

  Perrin’s eyes brimmed with a depth of sorrow she’d never seen before.

  “I need to sleep,” was all he said. He pushed the plate away, stood up, and went upstairs dragging the full weight of Edge with him.

  ---

  As Mahrree spoke to Mr. Metz, Hogal’s assistant, a few hours later in the gathering room, she couldn’t stop shaking her head. “Why does something so awful sound so right?”