Soldier at the Door (Forest at the Edge)

by Mercer, Trish

  Mal shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “That can’t be our contact. None of our men would stoop to such base familiarity. Baby tender, indeed! Tell him to look again. He’s a very quiet man. He needs to interrogate all of the soldiers that were injured last season. Take them to the privacy of the north if necessary!”

  Brisack took a deep breath, but he couldn’t put off the news any longer. “And therein lies the problem.”

  “What problem?” spat Mal.

  Brisack hesitated. “Since his initial report, the lieutenant seems to be . . . missing. He’s gone.”

  “Gone?!”

  Brisack nodded miserably. “Just like the new recruit we sent last year who we’ve never heard from again. The garrison received a message today from Shin asking about Walickiah’s background. He was there for less than a week, then . . . vanished. The major was wondering if the High General might know why. Relf came by and asked for his medical records, looking for clues.”

  Mal’s mouth hung open in shock. “Resigned?” he finally whispered.

  Brisack shrugged again. His own astonishment had worn off a couple of hours ago, replaced by stupefied consternation. “Major Shin found the letter on his desk a couple of mornings ago. Our contacts haven’t heard from the lieutenant either.”

  Mal’s eyes grew bigger. “Not even our contacts? No one goes back on the oath! No one!”

  Brisack held up his hands in a futile attempt to calm him. “Actually, this would make two. Both in Edge.”

  Mal gripped the sides of his chair. “Why? Why Edge?!”

  “I don’t know,” the doctor whispered, looking down at his hands and massaging them. Strangely, that gave him comfort. “I’m stunned myself. Walickiah was so steady and solid, especially after his fantastic success in eliminating the parents of that captain in Grasses and beating his sister near to death. I really thought that—” He examined his hands.

  Mal was quiet for a few moments before he spoke. “So you failed, my good doctor.”

  Brisack’s head snapped up. “What?”

  “How much is your heart in this study, Brisack?”

  The doctor’s mouth dropped open. “I really wanted this to succeed! I spent hours each day for weeks with Walickiah, giving him strategies, showing him ways of getting into the inner circle, to get close to Shin, to find out—”

  “As I said: you failed.”

  Brisack’s shoulders sagged. “I don’t know what went wrong. He took care of Grasses so well, I thought this would be a simple assignment for him. I told him it would be difficult, only to keep him sharp, but really . . . I just don’t know.”

  The good doctor rubbed his hands again, wondering what he missed doing. While he told the lieutenant to take advantage of any situation, he really had been directing him to take out the mother-in-law. She’d lived a long enough life, her death would’ve been close enough to the family to have made some impact, and the children would have been spared . . .

  Brisack stopped massaging his hands.

  Was the Quite Man really the baby tender? The children. What in the world was he trying to accomplish with them?

  Suddenly, Brisack wanted nothing more than to have five minutes alone with him, which he knew would never happen.

  Still . . .

  “There’s still the Quiet Man,” he reminded Mal, but wasn’t sure what to do with that. “While two others have vanished, he’s remained loyally at the fort.”

  “But what good is he doing us?!” Mal snapped.

  Brisack shrugged again, the only gesture he seemed to know that night. “Maybe he’s doing more to keep Shin involved than we realize. He’s still there, devoted, while two others have abandoned us. Maybe we should just let him do his work. I see no reason to do anything more with Edge,” he decided. “We still have so much to analyze from the attacks on the three villages to keep us busy for—”

  The Chairman shook his head. “No. He’s getting too cocky up there. And now these towers?! The maps, we could work with. But how will we ever sneak into the villages, undetected, with men watching in towers?! I can’t even get a message to the Quiet Man because communication in the north is breaking down again! No,” Mal said with severe resolve, “Shin must be broken. If the Quiet Man is the baby tender, he’s in a perfect position to complete Walickiah’s mission. Wait until he’s watching the children, claim there was a raid—”

  “How?” Brisack asked, panic tightening in his chest when Mal mentioned the children. “You just said we can’t get him a message. No, we need to come up with a new strategy for breaking Perrin Shin. And since he’s manned the towers, I don’t know either how we can get someone in to reach his family or even the mother-in-law.”

  “All right, Brisack,” Mal said smoothly. “Since you’re so averse to anything involving his children, there’s someone else we can get.” His voice was thick with planning. “Someone else close to him whose death would devastate the great Perrin Shin and bring him to his knees.”

  Brisack pointed at him. “I already told you—no. It’s too risky. That would be crossing the line from tragedy to outrage, and I refuse to be found in that pit with you!”

  “It’s the only way, Doctor. Nothing else has worked. But this will,” Mal said calmly.

  Too calmly for Brisack’s tastes.

  “I refuse to be a part of that! No!”

  “Fine,” Mal shrugged with a movement that suggested easiness but meant business. “I have someone who will. Someone else with a plan, and with men readied, who will not fail me.”

  Brisack stood up abruptly. “It’s your grave, Nicko!”

  “I doubt it,” he smiled thinly as the doctor stormed out of the library.

  A moment later Mal said, “Gadiman.”

  A door that led to a back hallway opened into the darkened room.

  “Did you hear?” said Mal, not bothering to look in the direction of the quiet squeak of hinges.

  “Oh, I heard!” said a voice that sounded rather like a weasel that just happened upon a trapped warren of rabbits. “I told you he’d fail!”

  “Yes, you did,” Mal intoned, but even Gadiman wasn’t going to annoy him tonight. “Tell your men to get ready. The Guarders are about to strike their most shocking and focused blow. Ah, the world will never be the same . . .”

  ---

  Barker woke up and stretched lazily. He looked around at the neighborhood. It wasn’t his. He sniffed the cold fog that rested on Edge that morning. Without another thought he stood up and started trotting towards the main road before the sun rose.

  “Whoa, look at the size of that dog!”

  “I know whose that is—that’s Major Shin’s dog. Sniffer. Or Digger. Drooler . . . something like that.”

  Emerging from the fog were two soldiers, just coming off duty from patrolling the village. Barker continued to trot, realizing that while they were dressed in blue, they didn’t smell like the Major.

  “Should we walk him home?” asked one of the soldiers.

  “Might as well. His home is along the way to the fort. But I get the feeling he’s walking us home. Whiner?” he tried, but the dog didn’t look at the soldiers trying to keep up with him.

  “Certainly seems to know where he’s going, doesn’t he? The major always lets him run loose?”

  The other soldier shrugged. “He has a fence around his garden. Not a very tall one, but certainly not something this dog could jump. Jumper?” he tried again to guess the dog’s name.

  Barker paid no attention to the soldiers. He was finding his way home. He turned down one road, then cut across to another alley, with the soldiers right behind him.

  “That’s got to be the most determined and quiet dog I’ve ever seen,” one soldier said. “His name certainly isn’t Barker, then.”

  Barker’s black floppy ears twitched slightly as he continued home.

  ---

  Corporal Zenos walked into Edge’s Inn and smiled at the older man standing behind the bar. Since it was the middle
of the afternoon, most of the tables in the eating area were emptied, just waiting for a soldier in need of a snack.

  “Let me guess, Corporal—pie?” the man asked with a smile.

  Zenos chuckled. “I’m that predictable, am I?”

  “I value my steady customers, son. I count on you being predictable!”

  Zenos grinned. “I’ve got a short race I need to run later today, so I thought I’d get a little something to ensure a win. Is Mrs. Peto in?”

  “I am, dear!” called a happy voice from the kitchen behind a partially closed door. She peeked out of the door, her round cheeks smeared with bits of flour as if she had been brushing it off, but only added more instead. “What are you in the mood for today, Corporal?”

  Shem pondered that for a moment, waiting for the serving girl to make her way past him. She was deliberately slow about it, as she always was, bumping him in a purposeful sort of way.

  It was because she was afflicted with a severe case of cleavage that Zenos kept his eyes on the ceiling as if in concentration.

  “How about you tell me what’s available, Mrs. Peto?” he suggested.

  The serving girl gave him a saucy look which he almost missed.

  Mrs. Peto stepped into the doorway with an eager smile. “Tell me how fresh peach pie sounds?”

  “Absolutely perfect!” Shem grinned. “You know, your daughter makes a good pie, but it’s not quite yours yet, Mrs. Peto.”

  Hycymum beamed and ducked back into the kitchen.

  Zenos leaned against the serving bar and looked around the eating room. At one table along the wall sat a middle-aged couple enjoying a drink and a leisurely afternoon. He smiled genially at them and they smiled back.

  Across the room from them, at a table in the corner by the windows, sat a young man around Shem’s age, slowly pushing food around his plate and lost in deep thought.

  A moment later Mrs. Peto popped out again with a large piece of peach pie. “I hope you like it, Corporal,” she winked at him.

  “It looks perfect, so I’m sure I’ll love it!” he winked back at her.

  The serving girl grumbled quietly that there were no winks for her. Shem turned and walked over to the table with the middle aged couple.

  “So, enjoying your stay in Edge?” he asked as he sampled the pie.

  “We are, thank you for asking,” said the man. His black hair was streaked with gray, and his narrow dark eyes twinkled cheerfully.

  “Anything I can help you find here?” Shem offered.

  The woman sitting across from him, with her blonde and gray hair twisted into a loose bun, smiled sweetly. “No, no, we’re fine. We’re spending a few days to get to know the village. That’s my nephew over there. He’s recently lost his parents and is looking for someplace new, without so many difficult memories,” she said quietly. “We came to Edge to see if this might be what he’s looking for.”

  Shem nodded slowly. “Maybe I can answer some questions for him. Do you think he’d mind?”

  The couple shook their heads.

  “Go ahead,” the husband said.

  Shem smiled and walked over to their nephew, who was still oblivious to anything but the remains of the stew he swirled around on his plate.

  Shem cleared his throat. “May I join you?”

  The young man looked up abruptly, startled. “Uh, well, I was kind of expecting—”

  Not concerned about what he was expecting, Shem sat down and nodded at the plate. “Didn’t enjoy the mutton stew?”

  “Oh no, it was quite good.”

  Shem nodded and took another bite of pie. “Then you should really try this for dessert.”

  “Don’t have much appetite,” the young man sighed.

  “Hard to eat when you’re looking for a new home, is it?”

  The young man blinked rapidly.

  “Your aunt and uncle told me,” Shem explained. “Thought maybe I could help you a bit. Anything I can tell you about Edge?”

  “Uhh,” the young man began, but stopped as he saw the serving girl come over to wipe down a nearby table. She intentionally leaned forward on the surface to make the most of her affliction, and watched the two young men talking, oblivious to the crumbs she kept missing.

  Under his breath and without moving his lips, Shem muttered, “Don’t look at her, Dormin.”

  That snapped the young man’s attention back to the soldier in front of him.

  “Fishing’s great!” Shem said loudly with a big grin. “The Edge River is just to the west, and the trout are enormous. But I need to warn you, if you fish too close to the forest, you might find yourself wrestling for your catch with a bear.”

  The serving girl rolled her eyes at the conversation, stood back up, and went to the kitchen.

  “How’d you know my name?” Dormin whispered.

  “I’m your contact,” Shem said in an equally low voice. But his manner was casual and cheery, as if enjoying a meaningless chat. “And don’t worry. No one can hear us, not even your ‘aunt’ and ‘uncle.’ The thick curtains here absorb much of our conversation, and the way the sun hits the windows creates a glare, so no one will even see us together. Watch.” He turned to the windows and waved goofily. “Hi!”

  But no one passing noticed, because of the glint of sunshine blinding them.

  “That’s why I choose this hour at this time of year. We have less than ten minutes before the angle shifts,” he said nonchalantly as he took another bite of pie, “so you can tell me what’s going on. The moustache and beard look good, by the way.”

  Dormin nodded slightly, still unsure of the situation. “It was Mrs. Yu—”

  Shem gave him a severe look.

  “I mean, my aunt’s idea. Said I look less like my father this way.”

  “Well, she’s one who would know,” Shem said quietly. “The problem is?”

  “It’s my brother,” he whispered.

  “Uh-huh, Uh-huh,” Shem interrupted loudly. “Yes, we do have great hunting.”

  The serving girl passed again with a disgusted sigh.

  “He’s in a uniform,” Dormin said softly as the girl bustled to the kitchen again.

  “Nothing wrong with that,” Shem winked, and took another bite.

  “He’s making plans.”

  “Alone, or with someone?” Shem said as if they were only discussing the amount of snow in Edge.

  “Not sure. Probably not alone, because he has no patience. Someone else is likely in charge.”

  “He has another name?”

  “Heth,” Dormin whispered, as if it was profanity.

  “What’s his plan?” Shem asked between bites.

  “Not sure either, but he wants a mansion. Our old mansion.”

  “The Shins,” Shem breathed. For the first time his face tightened in concern.

  “Yes, the High General—I’m pretty sure,” Dormin said, taking a bite of his cold stew just for show.

  “General Shin’s on his way here now, to inspect the new security measures in the village.”

  Dormin blinked in surprise. “My brother might be with him!”

  “I hope you’re not planning a family reunion,” Shem warned.

  “Not at all. I already made my peace with him.”

  “Good, because if he is with the general, he’s not here to make peace.”

  Dormin sighed. “You have to stop him, if at all possible.”

  “I’ll do what I can.” In a louder voice he said, “I hope that gives you some perspective about Edge. And,” he leaned over in a conspiratorial manner, “the serving girl certainly gave you another perspective of Edge.” Shem stood up. “You need any more questions answered, I’m at the fort. Feel free to come by any time.”

  “Thanks,” Dormin said, surprised that suddenly the conversation was over.

  Shem brought the plate over to the serving bar and set down a small slip of silver. He nodded over to the couple at the table. “Hope you enjoy your stay in Edge. If you need help finding a hom
e—”

  “We have a home already,” the man said easily. “We’re trying to get one for my wife’s nephew now.”

  “I’m sure you’ll succeed,” Corporal Zenos said. To the kitchen he called, “Thanks, Mrs. Peto. Better than Mrs. Shin’s, but don’t tell her I said that!”

  And he went on his way.

  ---

  Perrin sat at his desk in the Command Office reviewing the next week’s duty rotations. When he heard the private in the outer office shout, he smiled.

  “Blue banner, sir! Far southern tower! General’s coach has been sighted.”

  “Very good,” Shin called out to him. He put aside the rotation schedule and tidied up his desk. Ample warning now. The way it should be.

  Another minute later he heard, “Blue Banner up at Edge of Idumea Estates, sir!”

  He wished he’d had ten minutes’ warning three and a half years ago when his father showed up in front of Mahrree’s house to meet his future daughter-in-law. Already the tower system was proving its worth.

  After a couple of minutes came the call, “Now . . . the village green has spotted his coach! Their banner just went up.”

  “Thank you, Private. No further updates are necessary.”

  “But it’s working, sir!”

  “Yes, that seems to be obvious, doesn’t it?” He smiled patiently as he came out of his office and into the forward command office.

  The private flushed a darker, embarrassed brown. “It’s . . . rather fun to watch, sir. Oh look! Another blue banner!”

  Perrin chuckled and jogged down the stairs to await the arrival of the coach. He walked leisurely out of the reception area into the compound and stood casually with his arms folded.

  A minute later the garrison coach, surrounded by eight guards on horseback, drove noisily into the compound. The coach had barely lurched to a stop when the door flew open and High General Shin hopped down.

  “They’re bigger than I thought, Major!” he said excitedly as he bounded over to his son. “Those banners must be at least fifteen feet long each!”

  Perrin grinned as he saluted his father. “Closer to twenty, sir. They have to be that long so we can see them from the fort. And with the constant breeze off the mountains, the banners are always unfurled. I knew of your approach ten minutes ago.”