“Nice looking animal. Must have come from the Stables at Pools. Of course, only the best for Mal’s officers. Or,” he added in a whisper, “for the son of a king.”
Heth stopped in mid brushing and looked over to the man next to him.
“Dormin!” he gasped at his younger brother who he hadn’t seen in over a year.
“Shh,” Dormin whispered. “Just like you I’ve changed my name. Call me . . . Ted.”
“Ted?”
“Took me a while to find you again. In King Oren’s former mansion? Whew. This is plucky. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I have a feeling you don’t know all the rules.”
“Ted?”
“Obviously Mal knows who you are and placed you here. But for what reasons, I can’t quite fathom. Intriguing, though. How long do you plan to stay here?”
“Ted!”
“Yes, Ted. What, it’s better than Heth. Is that a first or last name, anyway?”
“What are you doing here?” Heth finally hissed at his younger brother. He looked frantically around, but the other stable hands were too busy with their work to think anything of a lieutenant talking with the straw man.
“I’ve come to say good-bye,” Dormin-Ted whispered. “At first I wasn’t sure why, but now seeing you in that uniform and in these stables—well, I think it’s obvious.”
“When I saw you last you said I’d never see you again. Come to break your promise, Doorknob Ted?” Heth was recovering from his shock.
Dormin didn’t show any reaction to the jab. “Have you given any thought to what I talked to you about? The Writings?”
Heth rolled his eyes. “Doorgirl, of course not. So many better things to do.” He straightened his uniform jacket proudly.
Dormin didn’t even look at it. “And what’re you going to do? Take back our old mansion?”
“I’m not going to take it, Doormouse; it’s going to be given to me.”
“Given,” Dormin repeated calmly. “Why?”
Heth chuckled quietly. “Wouldn’t you like to know. But you won’t, until you hear about it, and then it will be too late, and not one of those rooms will be for you, Door-for-brains!”
His brother nodded slowly. “None of those rooms will be for you, either, Heth. I have an idea of what you’re about to do, and I promise—it will fail. I’ll never see you again because you’ll be dead.”
Heth scoffed. “You’re always been so serious and dull. And you have no idea what I’m about to do!”
Dormin sighed. “Please, Sonoforen, change your mind. It’s not too late. I know of things you simply can’t imagine! Everyone here thinks they know, but . . . well, take this for instance. Sonoforen, what color is the sky?”
Heth rolled his eyes. “Blue!”
“You didn’t even look, did you? You just assumed you know, but did you actually look at it?”
With a dramatic sigh, Heth glanced out the open stable doors to see the tiny patch of sky available. “See? Blue. Right there.”
Dormin pressed his lips together. “That’s precisely right, isn’t it? See the part that you want to see, assume it applies to everything else, and stop thinking. But it’s all wrong, Sonoforen,” he whispered. “So much is wrong! Please, come with me, and let me show you—”
“The door, Dorminhead!” Heth said, gesturing to the stable exit. “I’ve had enough, and I’m due in for dinner soon.”
“You’re sloppy, and it’ll kill you,” Dormin warned in a low voice. “The only way for you to have the High General’s mansion is if there’s no more High General.”
Heth swallowed, realizing that as vague as he thought he was, he obviously wasn’t enough.
“I’ll miss you, Sonoforen,” Dormin said bleakly. “I’m not sure why, though. Maybe I’ll miss the relationship we could’ve had. If only you’d come with me, but . . . I suppose not. Good-bye, then, Lieutenant Heth.”
Heth stared after him as slinked out of the stables.
“Dead-head Ted!” he shouted, but Dormin didn’t even turn around as he pushed the empty straw cart away.
---
“You’re quiet for once,” Lieutenant Xat commented as he and Heth ate their dinners in an anteroom to the main dining hall.
Mal always ate alone, poring over pages and notes that were spread over the kings’ massive banquet table. His guards ate at small tables in attached rooms with a clear view of the Chairman constantly at work. Securing, but not interfering.
“Sorry,” Heth said absent-mindedly cutting his steak into small pieces in the proper manner of a future king. “Only a little distracted.”
It was the flash of motion that he saw out of the corner of his eye that saved his hand. He withdrew it nearly too late as Xat’s fork came down on it.
“What’s that for?!” Heth exclaimed as he examined his nearly-tined hand. There was a slight scratch mark on it, and a thin line of blood where the fork caught him.
“That’s what happens to the distracted!” Xat pointed his fork at Heth’s hand. “Failure! You’re lucky you have such fast reflexes. But I don’t want to narrowly escape death, Heth. I plan to succeed where no one else has, and if I don’t think you’ll be the best partner, I’ll tell Gadiman tonight.”
Heth nodded, grudgingly apologetic. “You’re right, you’re right. I’ll be more focused.”
“Completely focused,” Xat emphasized. “You’ll not ruin this for me.”
“Nor for me,” Heth said with a solid glare.
“So what is it?” Xat asked, stabbing his steak with his fork and tearing off a piece with his teeth. “As your partner, I should know everything in order to keep you centered on our mission,” he garbled.
Heth grumbled. “Just had an unexpected visitor this afternoon.”
“From your past?” Xat tore off another chunk of meat.
“Yes. Someone I thought was gone.”
“We’re to eliminate all connections with the past, remember?” Xat chewed noisily.
“I had, but his person found me, not the other way around.”
“Uh-oh,” Xat sneered as he swallowed. “How much did you owe him?”
Heth paused, trying to think of how to avoid discussing his brother. Dormin had seemed different. And once again, Heth had been more interested in insulting him than in finding out anything about him. It was obvious Mal couldn’t use him, but the Chairman wouldn’t believe that. Besides, if Mal used Dormin, that’d be competition for his mansion, and the last person in the world Heth would share that mansion with was his brother. He’d sooner allow the Shin family to move in, if any of them survived.
“Four slips of silver,” Heth eventually said. “He forgot I repaid him last year.”
“They always do,” Xat said, shoving the rest of his steak in his mouth. “Anything else?” he tried to say without dropping bits of meat.
“Nope. He’s gone. Especially when I showed him the only silver I’d give him was my long knife.”
Xat nodded in approval. “Dying to use it, aren’t you?”
“That I am,” Heth said, stabbing his steak.
Chapter 17 ~ “That’s part of his
unpredictability.”
Fifty new soldiers and their commander rode to Edge, only three days before the first Strongest Soldier race. Lieutenant Walickiah, a slender and gangly man with reddish-blonde hair and a crooked nose that had experienced too many fights, saw the southernmost tower long before they approached. He shook his head in wonder.
“He has been a busy bear, hasn’t he?” he murmured to himself.
“Sir,” called one of the soldiers behind him. “What is that?”
“Major Shin’s newest strategy to improve the security of the villages. According to the High General, he calls it a tower station.”
“Well I could have guessed that,” said another soldier.
Walickiah smirked, but since he was at the head of the line, no soldiers could see it. “Show respect, soldiers! This is your new commander you’re re
ferring to, and many of you will be stationed at the tops of those towers.”
“You can see for miles from that,” said a sergeant next to him, his voice full of awe as they neared. “Brilliant! Guarders will never be able to take the army by surprise again.”
“Yes,” Walickiah said ponderously. “Should be interesting to see how they deal with these obstacles.”
The soldiers’ banter picked up as they closed in on the tower, and Walickiah stopped his division so they could inspect it.
“Bit of a climb up there,” said one portly, middle-aged master sergeant, furrowing his brow. “About the height of a three or four level building, I’d guess. Think they’ll use towers everywhere in the world?”
Walickiah shrugged. “If Shin finds them successful here, and the High General agrees, I assume every village will be building these. So if you’re thinking of putting in for a transfer to somewhere less grueling, think again.”
The soldiers laughed as the sergeant turned pink. “I can get up that tower, sir! I’ll prove it right now.”
“No, you won’t,” Walickiah said.
“Yes, I will!”
“How? Jump?” He gestured to the workers over in the field assembling long poles, obviously for the ladder that was not yet installed.
The sergeant cleared his throat. “Guess I’ll have to prove my prowess at another time, Lieutenant. Now, I imagine the major is waiting for us?”
Walickiah rolled his eyes. “You knew the ladder wasn’t there yet. But I’m sure I can find you a tower that is ready. Onward, men. We have a new home to get to.”
---
When Walickiah arrived with his fifty that afternoon, he slipped easily into character. After Karna showed him to his new quarters, he took the captain by the arm. In a sufficiently worried manner, paling lighter than his already fair skin, he said, “Off record, Captain—what’s he like? The major?”
Karna smiled at the apprehension of the newest officer. “You’ve experienced High General Shin, right?”
Walickiah sighed. “Oh yes. And he was an experience. Twice my last year! He taught two courses in command. I wasn’t sure I’d survive his one-on-one final exams.”
Karna winced knowingly. “Well, I’ve seen Major Shin be as determined, regimented, and fierce as the general. For the first few weeks after the Guarder attack, he was a real bear. No one in the command tower dared smile until we got his plans for securing the village finalized.”
Walickiah pulled a pained face.
“But,” Karna added, “whereas the general can’t seem to quit, Major Shin will suddenly surprise you. He’s unpredictable. You never know what he’s going to do, or allow, or insist on next. Makes this quite an interesting assignment. You’ll never be bored. Now that we’ve got the village towers in place, he’s been a little less fierce, but still I recommend watching your step.”
“I heard he’s married, even has two children?” Walickiah shook his head in sympathy. “I couldn’t imagine having a Shin for a father.”
Karna laughed. “That’s part of his unpredictability. Just wait. You’ll see.”
Walickiah did see, the very next day. Early in the morning he reported for duty at the command tower and experienced the major. For the next fifteen minutes the major questioned, challenged, and intimidated him. Shin was most definitely a bear.
Then, abruptly, the major changed completely as he smiled, shook Walickiah’s hand warmly, and said, “Welcome to Edge! You’re going to enjoy your posting, I promise.”
It was going to take time to fully understand the major and his moods. The rest of the day Walickiah could see by their faces which of his new men had just descended from the tower. They wore looks that were a mixture of shock, worry, and outright confusion.
That evening after the major had gone home, Walickiah and Karna sat at the large desk in the forward command office going over the records of the new soldiers. Heavy footsteps coming up the stairs startled them both.
“Captain!” a familiar voice called before it reached the top.
Walickiah stiffened in anticipation, wondering which mood was about to appear—the bear or something else.
“I know you and the lieutenant are still here,” Shin’s voice carried. “Let’s take a look at the tower station map again. I was thinking we need to redraw the lines for the granary district, and it would be good for the lieutenant to see our plans . . . what?”
As he appeared at the top of the stairs both officers were staring at him. Or rather, staring at what he was carrying.
The major beamed. “Since Peto here is fifteen moons old now, I thought it was time to show him where I go every day.”
The brown haired boy with pale gray eyes wore a small dark blue jacket in the same style as his father’s uniform. He seemed smaller than a normal child, probably because his father was much larger than a normal man.
Walickiah memorized the child’s features instantly. While his hair and eye coloring were nothing like his father’s, the shape of his face—nose, eyes, mouth, ears—was all Major Shin, in miniature.
The baby waved cheerfully at the two officers.
They felt obligated to wave back, albeit hesitantly.
The proud major grinned. “Pretty good, huh? Jaytsy couldn’t wave properly until she was a year and a half. She kept doing more of a slap. Could get rather dangerous if you were holding her in the wrong way. Of course, now at nearly two and a half she can wave, and also talks up a storm. Can’t understand half of it, but my wife usually can. It’ll be easier once she learns to make an ‘s’ sound. Fortunately yesterday I decoded ‘Fodder, watch—I gream!’ and covered my ears just in time. She’s going to be as loud as her mother. But Peto’s my good little boy, usually. Only has a habit of climbing everything. He made it to the top shelf of a bookshelf earlier this evening, so I decided to get him out of the house so my wife could clean it up without his help. Because as the saying goes, ‘There’s no job too tedious that can’t turn terrifying when a toddler tries to help.’ So, the map? Since I’ll be in Moorland tomorrow inspecting their new fort, I wanted to make sure we get this done tonight.”
Walickiah blinked.
Then he blinked again, trying to figure out what the monologue was about and still puzzling out the meaning of “I gream!” It was if he was staring at a completely different man. The terrifying major from the morning was replaced with this proud papa that was . . .
Well, certainly no one would actually apply the term to Major Shin, but if he were any other man it wouldn’t be a stretch to say he was actually babbling. The bear had turned into a veritable puppy dog as he spoke about his children.
That was very good to know.
Another reason, Walickiah realized later, that he was staring so hard that Karna had to elbow him three times was that he’d never seen an officer holding a child, at least not voluntarily. But Major Shin, running his fingers through his son’s thick hair to smooth it to the side, couldn’t have looked happier.
The captain retrieved the map and brought it into the major’s office, and Walickiah followed. In his office Shin leaned over the map, but his son tried to grab it.
“No, no, no Peto. Not this. Here.” He placed the little boy on the floor. “You can have . . .”
He looked around, then picked up a message from the Administrators and grinned.
“You can have this. Nicko Mal signed it himself. You know what to do with it.”
Walickiah watched in horror as the major’s son put the official message in his mouth and tore it with his tiny teeth.
“Don’t worry, Lieutenant,” the major told him upon seeing his expression. “I know what it said. Peto’s more effective at destroying paper than my dog. And he doesn’t choke on the bits anymore, he just usually spits them out. He’s fine. Now, what I was thinking over here was . . .”
It took Walickiah another minute to focus on the map over the sound of disrespectful ripping underneath him. Since the major whipped between subjects so q
uickly, Walickiah found himself feeling a little light-headed. The three men pored over the map for about ten minutes, redoing station reporting territories and explaining the system to Walickiah.
Suddenly Major Shin looked up in surprise, then down at the floor. The message from Mal was scattered in wet shreds, but the boy was nowhere to be seen.
The major looked at his officers in alarm. “Uh, I think my son’s absent without permission. The stairs!” he cried and ran out of his office, with Karna right behind him.
Walickiah knew enough to join them.
There was no baby in the forward office, or going down the stairs. The major groaned.
“Need help, sir?” Karna asked.
“Yes! He could be anywhere! He knows how to do stairs,” the major called as he ran down them. “And I gave Mahrree such a hard time when she lost him at the . . .”
But they didn’t hear the rest because the major was already gone, his heavy footsteps sounding like thunder as he ran. Karna and Walickiah followed him.
At the bottom of the stairs, the large main receiving area was quiet as it usually was this time of day. Most of the soldiers were either eating dinner or getting ready for their night shifts. Major Shin stood at the main door anxiously looking out into the darkening compound. A soldier saluted as he walked past.
“Private! Did you see a little boy?”
“Today, sir?”
The major groaned again and turned around. “Karna, check the hallway to the barracks. Walickiah, go to the mess hall. I’ll look out here.”
Walickiah looked at Karna who raised his eyebrows in a ‘Get moving!’ manner. Walickiah rushed out the side door down the corridor to the mess hall, not sure what he would do with the baby if he saw it.
This was most telling, Walickiah considered. The major was nearly hysterical simply because his little boy was missing. How weak and easily panicked Shin was. He may be as large as a bear, but he was as wretched as a butterfly.
All kinds of scenarios played out in the lieutenant’s mind. He hadn’t been told specifically what to do in Edge, because he was to take advantage of any situation that presented itself. Walickiah didn’t understand why he was told his assignment would be difficult. On the contrary, it would be quite easy. So many situations were presenting themselves he would have thought it was his birthday. And if they didn’t like the results that happened with one child, there was another at his disposal.
Soldier at the Door (Forest at the Edge) Page 40
