Mahrree ignored Perrin’s steely glare. “The sheath and belt should go as well, Aims,” she said. “No good without the sword.”
He halfheartedly undid the buckle and handed the belt to the major. Grandpy’s expression hardened, but Perrin ignored him.
“Still too . . . formal.” Mahrree decided as she turned to her husband. “What about them unbuttoning the top few buttons? A more relaxed look?”
The major’s raised eyebrows told her it was unthinkable.
A daring voice from the back of the room thought otherwise. “We’d be most grateful, ma’am!” The outburst of laughter sufficiently hid the guilty man.
Neeks guffawed at the insubordination, but Karna had a small, traitorous smile forming.
Mahrree couldn’t help but smile, too. “One button?” She gave the major her best pleading eyes.
He softened ever so slightly and held up one finger.
Grandpy Neeks, at the back of the room, threw his hands in the air and turned to glare at the wood planked wall.
Private Aims eagerly undid the top button at his throat. Several of the men whistled and whooped their approval as they quickly followed suit. Private Aims couldn’t have turned any redder.
“Now—” Mahrree began again.
“They are ready!” Major Shin insisted.
Grandpy gave a firm agreeing nod and cleared his throat so loudly it echoed in the room.
“Please, just one more thing?” Mahrree bravely asked. When she saw the severe expression on her husband’s face she added, “Nothing with the uniform—I promise.”
Grandpy, at the back of the room, folded his arms more noisily than should be possible, and Major Shin nodded almost imperceptibly.
Mahrree turned back to the soldiers. “The thing is,” she started haltingly, “the thing is . . . Edgers know you only as soldiers. But if they could see you as something more, then all of these plans to secure Edge will happen much more smoothly. They need to see you as sons, grandsons, brothers—”
She couldn’t help but glance at Shem, and he was beaming back at her.
“—and as nephews, then . . . then all of this will be much better.”
Not very articulate, she knew, but the stares of all those soldiers were starting to get to her, just as she knew they would get to the villagers.
Corporal Zenos raised his hand.
Relieved to make eye contact with a friendly face, Mahrree nodded at him. “Corporal?”
“Mrs. Shin, what are you suggesting that we do today?” His easy smile told her that while he understood what she was trying to say, no one else would.
“Well, do what you see needing done. If someone’s gathering wood, take half a minute to fill up the bucket and bring it into the house for them. Maybe someone’s calf won’t go into a pasture, so go over and help . . . herd it.” She assumed that was the proper term, not really knowing much about cattle except how to cook them.
She didn’t dare look at Perrin, but she did catch Grandpy’s glare, and noticed that he wasn’t as angry as he had been a couple of minutes ago.
“Just let Edgers see you as something more than young men who . . . beat up people.”
A few soldiers sniggered proudly at that.
And Mahrree knew she had to use that.
“Exactly,” she grinned. “Prove to them that while you’re certainly skilled fighters, you’re also better than the Guarders, in every way. Guarders only destroy. But you—you men assist, serve, protect, build.”
She scanned the crowd of faces and saw a mixture of responses. Some were skeptical and bored, but more were understanding, interested, and—increasingly—proud.
A deep voice rumbled next to her. “Mrs. Shin has a point, men,” Major Shin told them. “We need to demonstrate that we’re the better men. So do what you can, but don’t be all day about it.”
Mahrree realized that was her signal to move off the platform, and she did so as quickly as possible while her husband continued to address the soldiers.
“You may remove your swords and leave them on the table in the back by Neeks as you go out. Keep the handles of your long knives concealed, and remember, unbutton only one button.”
“And smile!” added Captain Karna with a full faced demonstration.
Even though Mahrree was now at the side of the room again, she could hear Major Shin growling quietly. He glanced over at her, and she gave him a look of gratitude. A smirk crept to the edges of his mouth.
That was about as easy as he was going to get that day.
---
Ten minutes later Perrin mounted his horse for the morning—someday he’d have to find a creature with enough strength and speed to last him all day—and sat by the gate observing fifty pairs of soldiers leave the fort to head in different directions towards Edge, paper in their hands, and no swords on their bodies.
If Mahrree thought that would make him more “easy” she was very much mistaken.
The forest was quiet, as it had been for weeks, but things could change in an instant. This was a very risky move. Most of the soldiers were now armed only with a long knife secreted somewhere on their bodies, making them merely equal in strength to the Guarders. Only Perrin, Karna, Neeks and Gizzada, all mounted on horses to supervise the day’s activities, still wore their swords.
Perrin wasn’t going to leave the compound until he was sure his wife was on her way home. He wondered again why he deferred to her in front of his entire army, but deep down he already knew.
It wasn’t because she kept kissing his neck this morning, which nearly drove him to distraction and, for the first time in five weeks, momentarily put him in an entirely different frame of mind. Maybe it was because today he felt like he was finally accomplishing something, and depending on how everything went, he may have to start an argument with her later tonight.
And they had plenty to argue about.
It wasn’t because he thought her exceptionally brave to stand in front of those soldiers, most of who were nearly twice her size, and try to turn them back into boys. That small woman had no idea just how determined and powerful her voice was, and he found that even more endearing.
It wasn’t even because of those piercing gray-green-brown eyes that looked at him so fearfully yet confidently when he accosted her in the hallway. She certainly still had an effect on him, one that he hoped he never got over.
It may have been somewhat because her pink lips did that little pursing thing since she was anxious, and then she bit her lower lip, which always had the effect of turning his brain into something like hot oatmeal—
No, he knew why he took her advice. He hoped to his soldiers it looked like he was deferring to an Edge native, but it was something much more.
No, he deferred to her because when the most dangerous woman in the world recommends something, even the snarling commander of the fort better follow that advice.
He spotted her walking behind the soldiers approaching the gate. She gave him a flirty, apologetic smile.
Oh yes. There’d be arguing tonight.
He winked back. She meant well; she always did. Even when she was trying to get him to ‘PEA’ on all of it. She grinned at him and he nudged the horse to approach her.
“Would you like a ride back to the house?”
She scoffed at the horse, the only animal she hated more than poor Barker. “Would you like to experience childbirth?”
That did it.
He couldn’t help but chuckle, probably for the first time since the raid.
“You need to get back before the first soldiers reach the house,” he reminded her. “What kind of an example are you setting for our neighbors if you’re not there obeying the edicts of Major Shin?”
“I’ll be there in five minutes,” she promised. “Bring me a report tonight, all right?”
“Since when do I report to you, Mrs. Shin?” he frowned, but knew she saw right through it. She always saw through everything, which—in quiet moments when he thought
about it—made him slightly worried.
“Since the day we married, Mr. Shin. Admit it: I’m more fearsome than the High General.” She tried to raise a menacing eyebrow and failed amusingly.
Perrin winked at her again. “I’ll probably be late for dinner.”
Mahrree nodded. “Just promise me you’ll remember the advice of Captain Karna—smile!” She batted her eyelashes.
He chuckled again.
“And Perrin?” she said quietly. “Thank you.”
He smiled at her in a way that hinted at a future argument, then kicked his horse out the gates towards Edge.
---
“Poe?” Mahrree called as she neared her home, seeing the boy jogging alongside Barker. “My goodness, Poe—you’re up early this morning! And with Barker?”
“Hi, Mrs. Shin,” he said cheerily. “He was sleeping in my front garden this morning!”
Mahrree blinked rapidly. “All the way on the other side of Edge?”
Barker gave her only a fleeting glance and sat down by the front gate.
“What in the world were you doing so far south?” Mahrree demanded of him.
He didn’t even turn his drooping eyes to look at her.
“Well, I was thinking,” Poe said scratching his chin and sounding very grown up, “that there’s that fluffy white dog down the road from us. I guess to a dog, she’d be rather attractive.”
“Ugh,” Mahrree sneered. “Not again, Barker.”
“So he gets around, I take it?” Poe said maturely. “You know, any rancher would have a solution to that problem.”
Mahrree looked at him. “Poe, the things that come out of your mouth sometimes! I’ve missed you.” She chuckled, ruffled up his black hair, and gave him a quick hug. “Want to stay for breakfast? You’ve come so far, I’d hate to send you home already.”
Poe grinned at the offer.
“But first,” Mahrree held up a finger, “a question.”
Poe groaned.
Mahrree chuckled. “Tell me, Mr. Hili—what color do you think the sky will be today?”
Poe’s mouth automatically opened, then he shut it and looked up at the sky.
Mahrree beamed in approval. He wasn’t the Administrators just yet.
“I don’t see any clouds . . . You know, today the sky might actually be blue!”
“I agree,” Mahrree said. “Sometimes, the sky really is blue.”
---
Mahrree had called it “Get To Know Your Friendly Soldiers Day,” but that’s not the way it started. Perrin could see the curtains twitching anxiously in the windows as citizens waited for the soldiers to reach their front doors. Then those doors opened cautiously, and people spoke through the cracks.
Mahrree had been right, Perrin was reluctant to concede as he rode along the first northern neighborhood. The villagers were nervous about the soldiers coming to their houses.
“But we’re the good men,” he whispered to himself as he saw another door open only far enough to carry on a conversation. “Why are they afraid of us? Ah, Hogal–what would you do? If only you were still here . . .”
He sighed and tried to ignore the ragged hole in his chest left by his great aunt and uncle. In the past five weeks it hadn’t gotten any smaller. Despite his knowledge that they were fine and happy, he couldn’t get his heart to accept it. He didn’t need comfort; he needed them. He couldn’t do this by himself. True, he had Mahrree, but he’d come to rely on Hogal to be his ‘guide,’ and Tabbit to be his ‘conscience.’ Without them, he felt as if two ropes of the three holding him in line had snapped. If Hogal had been there, he likely would have said something such as, The Creator knows you’re capable of going on without us. That’s why we were allowed to go home.
But Perrin had far less faith in himself than Hogal Densal did. And he still couldn’t help but feel their loss was partially his fault.
But he would tolerate no more.
He wheeled his horse around to go down another road to check on the soldiers’ progress. As he turned the corner he saw, halfway down the road, a milkman and his cart approaching. Suddenly the mule pulling the cart stopped, as if something had blocked its way. Startled, the animal darted erratically, backed up, and—ignoring the protests of the milkman—pushed the cart back into the ditch along the side of the road.
At that moment two soldiers came from the porch of a nearby house, having recorded the names of the residents. They stopped short when they saw the cart spilling out cheeses and corked jugs. They hesitated, and Perrin, trotting his horse to the scene, whistled at them. He pointed to the cart, and the soldiers jumped into action, catching the last of the wrapped cheeses sliding out of it. By the time Perrin arrived, they were already righting the cart while the milkman hefted a covered jug and smiled to see its cork had remained secure.
“Why, you boys should be patrolling the roads in full force all the time,” the milkman said as he placed the jug in the cart. The soldiers picked up the rest of his goods and stacked them in the small wagon as the owner of it grinned. “At least until I can replace this mule. Thank you again. Major, you have some fine soldiers!”
“Yes, I do,” Perrin smiled. “The Army of Idumea is here to serve.”
It was a cheesy line, but seeing how lovingly the man cradled a salvaged wheel of cheddar, Perrin was sure he appreciated it.
He nodded approval to the soldiers and smiled to himself.
One citizen won over, only five thousand or so to go.
As he watched the two soldiers walk to the next house, Perrin had a thought. He looked back at the mule that seemed to him rather sedate, as mules go. But it had reacted so abruptly, almost as if it had experienced something unexpected.
A corner of Perrin’s mouth went up. Would Hogal be the kind to upset a poor, innocent mule so the soldiers could do something useful?
Perrin remembered Hogal’s mischievous, waggling eyebrows.
Yes. Yes he would.
He was about to swing his horse around again when he heard a woman’s voice coming from across the road.
“Soldiers! How good are you at chasing dogs?” It was a young mother, standing at her open front door, with a little boy maybe four years old hiding behind her skirt.
One of the soldiers straightened up and said, with perhaps a bit too much eagerness, “Oh, I’m quite skilled at that, ma’am!”
“Good,” she said, “because I’ve got two dogs bothering my chickens in the back, and my hens aren’t laying because of them.”
Perrin heard, in the mixture of morning noises, the muffled sound of two yapping dogs and many fretting chickens.
The two soldiers looked over at their major for consent.
“Go fetch!” Perrin ordered.
The soldiers grinned, set down their papers on a rock, and jogged to the back garden.
Just a moment later two mangy dogs came yipping at a full run, and the soldiers emerged with smug smiles on their faces. As they went to the front porch, the little boy cheered and his mother happily held the door open for her poultry rescuers.
Perrin chuckled. “All right,” he murmured to himself as he walked his mount down the road, “now they’re not only known for beating up people, but beating up nuisance dogs as well. Well, I suppose it’s a start. And it’s your doing, isn’t it, Hogal? Service first, leadership later. Isn’t that what you used to tell me when I was younger? Not that you would cause chickens to be bullied by dogs, but you would make sure someone was there to save them, wouldn’t you?”
Before he could listen for an answer to that, he heard another voice calling to him.
“Major!”
He saw a very full, middle-aged woman standing in her doorway. Her thick hands were on her waist and her sizable bosom was heaving in pent-up frustration.
Perrin nudged his mount to head over to her house, and he braced for whatever was about to come.
“Yes, ma’am?” he called as he neared. “What can I do for you?”
“I saw what happe
ned down there, with those filthy dogs,” she accused.
Perrin reined the horse to a stop at her front gate, the yipping sound fading away as the dogs headed towards the river.
“Yes, ma’am?” he repeated patiently.
“About time something was done with those beasts,” she declared, adding an emphatic huff. “Been complaining to Chief Curglaff for several moons about them, but he said there’s nothing to be done.”
Perrin sighed internally. But now wasn’t the time to get into a discussion about the failed duties of the enforcement officers. Instead he nodded to the woman.
“So what I want to know is this.” She took a deep breath that caused her to nearly fill the entire doorway. “If I see them dogs again, can I call your soldiers to do something? I mean, really do something with them?” Her voice became so deep and demanding that Perrin considered that the alarm he suddenly felt was similar to how people may react to him.
But he also felt a smile growing on his face.
“Ma’am, if those dogs bother this neighborhood again, just let one of my soldiers know and I assure you—we’ll take care of them.”
To his surprise, she burst into a gappy grin. “Good! Now I’ll feel better paying my taxes this year, knowing that at least someone at the fort takes seriously the threat of untrained dogs!”
Perrin smiled, tipped his cap, and decided not to reveal that he also was the owner of an untrained dog. But since his dog would likely only ever lick a chicken, then attempt to take a nap with it, he didn’t see any reason to divulge that information.
He kicked the sides of his horse to check on another road. A minute later he was surprised to find a sergeant carrying a large cushioned chair from one house to another, and receiving the most useless directions from two elderly women. The sergeant shrugged apologetically to the major when he saw him, but Perrin shook his head and smiled.
“Carry on, soldier. Just don’t carry the entire household. We do have a schedule to keep.”
The sergeant nodded and continued on to the gate where the women gave him the completely wrong advice for heading up the stairs. Fortunately for the soldier, the chair was very well cushioned.
Soldier at the Door (Forest at the Edge) Page 37
