by Trish Mercer
Edge was scared.
The very next day the entire village that used to embrace Captain Shin suddenly feared Major Shin.
He knew there was trouble by midday when he came home for his meal and saw Poe Hili who had come to say good-bye. His parents’ new house was finished in the Edge of Idumea Housing Estates, and since he’d be living on the other side of the village he’d no longer attend Mahrree’s After School Care.
Perrin was approaching when he saw Poe trotting down the front stairs.
“Mr. Hili!” Perrin called to his young friend.
Poe stopped dead in his tracks in the front yard and stared at him.
“I heard you were moving today. We’re going to miss you around here.” Perrin hopped the fence and ruffled Poe’s black hair.
Poe remained motionless.
“Qualipoe? Are you all right?”
“Y-y-yes sir!” Poe said, trying to stand at attention.
“No, you’re not. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, sir!” Poe exclaimed, “I’ve done nothing wrong!” and he took off like a spooked horse.
Perrin, flabbergasted, turned to Mahrree who had come to the door. “What do you think that was all about?”
Mahrree bit her lower lip. “He told me he felt bad that you now had to be an Administrator. He said he used to like you, but now?” She shook her head. “I’m so sorry. Poe said his parents were worried, and the notices posted all over the village this morning certainly didn’t phrase the change very well.”
She pulled out a scratch piece of paper from her apron pocket.
“‘As of immediately, the commanders of the forts are now the official eyes, ears, and voices of the Administrators. Any and all activity, of any remotely suspicious nature, will immediately be reported to the commander for immediate investigation. As of immediately, the village magistrates and chiefs of security are under the immediate jurisdiction of, and now report to, the Commanders of the Army of Idumea’.”
“You copied the notice?” he asked, incredulous.
“I’ve never before seen anything in writing with one word so overused. Immediately I knew I wanted a copy of it.” She smiled apologetically.
“And sometimes you think I’m odd?” He shook his head. “I’ll visit the Hilis later and try to clear this up. I am not an Administrator.”
Mahrree raised her eyebrows. “You think visiting their home is going to make them feel better? You’re not exactly Mrs. Hili’s favorite person to begin with, you know.”
“It’s not like I’d go in uniform.”
“Maybe wait a little while, let the news sink in first. No one really knows what it means. Everyone is edgy in Edge right now.”
She was right, Perrin decided. The notices of the new edicts and his promotion had gone up only that morning, but as Perrin walked back to the fort two groups of people switched to the other side of the road to avoid having to acknowledge the new major as he walked past.
At dinner he asked Mahrree how her day went.
“I started a catalog in my mind to record the different looks I received at the market this afternoon,” she said with an air of disgust. “They ranged from sympathetic to petrified. People hardly knew what to say to me, probably afraid I might report it to you.”
“This can’t last,” he groaned.
“You mean, you hope it won’t last,” she pointed out. “It ‘can’ do all kinds of things we don’t want.”
---
Chairman Mal was expecting the visit, although it wasn’t planned on his daily itinerary. He could hear the angry footsteps far down the hallway and the sound of citizens scattering well before his door flew open with a bang.
Mal looked up from his desk with a slick smile. “High General Shin. Did you have a pleasant trip inspecting the fort at Waves?”
Shin marched straight up to his desk and leaned across it. “What’s the meaning of this?”
“Asking about one’s trip? We call that politeness, High General. Civility. Good manners. Obviously you’ve heard of none of these things.”
Shin slammed his fist on the desk. “The change! And how did I find out about it? From the lieutenant colonel at Waves, when he received the message!”
Mal sat back and interlaced his fingers together, resting them on the desk. “I don’t understand your anger, Relf. Why, this is giving you and the army even more power.”
“No it’s not,” Shin whispered fiercely. “It’s making the world terrified of the army again! You’re undermining all the good we’ve accomplished—”
“That’s why the order came from me, my dear General,” Mal said with a far too confident smile. “If it came from you, it would have indicated a breach in our cooperation. But now the world sees that I trust the army implicitly, and that the safety of the world is our utmost concern.”
Shin regarded him for a moment. “Doesn’t make any sense,” he murmured. “Since when do you want to share power? No, no,” he said slowly as his eyes darkened, “this is all about you seizing more, isn’t it Nicko? You had no hold on the magistrates and chiefs of enforcement, but if the commanders are in charge of them, and I’m in charge of the commanders, and you’re in charge of me—”
The High General stood up and straightened his jacket.
“Well done, Mal. You’ve just made yourself king, haven’t you? That’s what you always wanted anyway.”
Mal rolled his eyes. “You’re becoming the most paranoid man in the world, you know that? You’re going to make Gadiman jealous. You could see a seditious motive in the presentation of a birthday pie.” The Chairman shook his head and leaned forward. “You know as well as I do that the magistrates are, for the most part, shallow men seeking to be popular. All they care about is people looking up to them. They don’t care one bit about the conditions of their villages. And the chiefs of enforcement? They’re only tinsmiths with sticks. Simply unbridled egos and a false sense of superiority—”
Mal didn’t understand the penetrating look the High General was giving him.
He continued. “But Relf, our soldiers are far more adept than those who want to be in control. Threats are increasing—”
“I haven’t seen any evidence,” Shin cut him off.
Mal just blinked at him. “Of course you haven’t. The rumors reach my ears, not yours.”
Shin folded his arms. “Exactly why is that, Chairman? Shouldn’t I be hearing the stories too?”
Mal shrugged. “I don’t know why your men are less competent about hearing important news. But at least one of us knows what’s going on in the world. And now your commanders—even your own son—have more authority to truly secure the world. Why aren’t you pleased by that, Relf?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” Shin admitted. “That’s why I’m so uneasy.”
Mal sighed loudly. “No, that’s why you’re so unprogressive.”
---
Ten minutes later Relf Shin stood next to his horse, writing out a quick message to be sent to Edge and trying to figure out what was going on.
Nicko’s solidifying his hold on the world, Relf considered. Or he’s trying to subvert the authority of the local magistrates. Or he’s trying to increase loyalty to his regime. Or—
That was likely it. The increase of Guarder activity had also increased whispering in the world, but not the kind Mal was suggesting. Shin had heard it—or heard of it—from some of his commanders.
Why were the Guarders more active now? They hadn’t been under the reign of kings. While Oren was an idiot, at least the world was relatively quiet while he was in power. But for the past couple of years? Guarders were everywhere, striking nearly every village on the borders of civilization.
Relf stopped in his writing.
Why were the Guarders so active now? Never before in their history had they struck so often and so violently. If only he could capture another one alive. If only Perrin could—
Relf exhaled and shook his head. He couldn’t send his only son back in
to the forest to find an informant. Twice he risked his life, twice he was unsuccessful in capturing any alive. The army simply had no way to know.
He crumpled up the message he was writing, the one that rambled as aimlessly as his thoughts.
Instead he wrote,
A great many storms have been seen here, son. Keep your eyes on the horizon. Not sure when they will all pass.
It was a pointless message, he knew. But everything seemed pointless right then.
---
Three days later, Edge was still edgy.
“The Eyes, Ears, and Voice of the Administrators,” Perrin announced as he sat down to dinner on the fourth day, “has not been looked at, talked to, or given more than a passing nod. Not as if I was ever what one might consider a sociable person—”
His wife snorted into her soup.
“—it’s just that I don’t enjoy being regarded as a ravenous bear out for a stroll in the village.”
“Perhaps it’s because the village hasn’t had the opportunity to see you as they remember you. Have you tried smiling at people? Not your scary smile, but your real one that showed up a few times when we were debating.”
“I smile all the time, Mahrree,” he said stiffly.
“Uh-huh.”
“But I’m working on a plan.”
“Oh, good. What kind of plan?”
“The Plan.” He bit into his bread.
“As convincing as your smile, no doubt.”
“Finally received a message from my father. He’s been in Waves and just got back to Idumea.”
“And what did he say?” Mahrree held her breath.
Perrin sighed. “He wrote about storms, and he doesn’t know when they’ll pass. He’s as perplexed as I am.”
After dinner he sat doodling for ideas at his desk in the study. He didn’t have anything useful yet because he hated having to make people like him. That struck him as a childish—or a political—waste of time.
But somehow he had to remind the people, whose hearts and minds he won almost three years ago, that he still was Perrin Shin and nothing had changed. Not even his uniform, and although he’d received a message from his father that the new jacket was on its way, he wasn’t going to don it until he absolutely had to.
Perhaps next year.
“What have you got so far?” he heard Mahrree whisper into his ear.
“Uh,” he covered some sections with his hand. “Nothing much, yet. Why don’t you go do something?”
“I’ve come to inspire you.” She kissed him on his neck.
“Wrong kind of inspiration, Mrs. Shin.”
“I just hate seeing you so intense.”
He paused. “When am I not intense?”
“Intenser than normal, then,” she said and abruptly slid his arm off his writing. “I knew I saw something there!”
“It’s . . . something I wasn’t really going to use. Rather silliness. Only—”
“‘Don’t run, I’m Perrin Shin, not an Administrator,’” Mahrree read out loud the words he had sketched out in the form of an insignia.
He turned a little pink. “I was just thinking if I had a patch reminding people who I am, then . . .”
“It’s too big, too many words,” Mahrree said in a mock critical tone. “Ah, but I have it! Take the first letter of each word and put them together, so the phrase is reduced to a word.” She took the quill out of his hand and wrote it out. “Look, it would turn into DRIPSNAA. Oh, I like that. You could shorten it even further to Don’t Run, I’m Perrin Shin, and you could be DRIPS.”
She smiled at him, rather pleased with her invention.
He looked at her. “That’s even sillier,” he declared. “Reduce a phrase to only a representative word? The army would never go for that.”
She pursed her lips, and he nearly forgot what he was in his study for. “You don’t like any of my ideas, do you?” She pouted purposefully.
“That’s not going to work, woman. I need to concentrate.”
“All right, DRIPS.” She kissed him on the lips.
He didn’t accomplish a great deal that night, but he had a few ideas.
In the morning he found a note next to his plate. “Dogs Ruin Important Papers, Sir,” along with the wet remains of Mahrree’s ‘immediate’ note that seemed didn’t agree with Barker’s stomach.
That afternoon, when he retrieved his midday meal from his tin, he found another note. “Don’t Run In Peto’s Shorts.”
“Cute, Mahrree,” he mumbled, “and not too helpful.” He crumpled it for the fire.
At dinner he found, “Dinner’s Ready—It’s Pork Sandwiches,” and on his desk that evening when he went back to work he saw, “Daughter’s Rambunctious in Playing Soldier.”
The next morning he saw another message at the table. This one he smiled at, folded carefully, and later put in his quill drawer at the fort.
“Debate Results; Im-Prove Sanity.”
That night he announced to her, “Phase One of The Plan will begin next week on my day off, to kick off Weeding Season.”
“I hope it’s more engaging than its name,” she said.
He grumbled at her. “You want to help, right?”
“Right!”
“Then we’ll begin by visiting every family we know in the congregation, assuring them I’m still the man they know and lov—, well, they know. I thought that if you, me, the children, and Barker took a few long walks, chatting to people, letting them see me, not in uniform, with my family, that they might . . .” He bobbed his head back and forth.
“Realize you’re still the same large commander of the fort that they’ve always known and who’s killed a dozen men?”
“Y—es,” he said slowly.
“Great idea!” she beamed at him. “What’s phase two?”
“Depends upon the success of phase one.”
A couple of days later, with Edge still on high alert whenever they saw the new major, he set out for an all day leisurely stroll around the northern half of the village with his wife, his children in a small wagon, and his massive black, drooling dog harnessed to pull it. Wearing a brown shirt, beige trousers, and as genuine a smile as he could muster, Perrin Shin and his family stopped and chatted with wary neighbors in their gardens or farms, all in the attempt to demonstrate that the Shin family was not to be feared.
Hogal and Tabbit did their best as well to spread the word in their neighborhood, but along Hycymum’s road, pretending to be sociable was much more difficult. For some reason, none of Hycymum’s neighbors would say more than two words to them, until they discovered why from the Arkys.
“Don’t worry, Major,” Mr. Arky said to him as the Shins walked up to his fence. “I believe Hycymum, that you aren’t a spy for the Administrators.”
Perrin’s eyebrows flew upwards. “She said what?”
“That no matter what anyone said, you really weren’t a spy. At least, you wouldn’t be a very good one, since you hadn’t been by to get any good gossip off of her yet.”
Mahrree gripped his arm in a futile gesture of calming.
“Mahrree . . .” Perrin growled.
“I’m on it,” she promised, and jogged next door to her mother’s house where her sewing ladies were just arriving. Their nervous glances fell frequently on the major who stood glaring at his mother-in-law’s house, his arms folded and his stance tense.
Several minutes later Mahrree came out and over to her husband and children. “She’s agreed to not try to help us anymore, but only if you’ll come over to her club meeting and sample her new ee-clares in front of all her ladies—”
Mr. Arky chuckled as Perrin groaned. “Mahrree . . .”
“And tell her friends how much you like them.” She squinted meaningfully.
He had to admit later they were rather tasty, even though the women giggled at him when the cream filling dribbled down his chin in an undignified manner.
“Undignified is precisely what they needed to see,�
� Mahrree assured him as they walked home that warm afternoon, the children lying on top of each other and dozing in the wagon. “You were much more a long-suffering son-in-law than a fearsome commander. That goes a long way with the gray-hairs.”
“Hopefully it goes all the way through the rest of the village,” he sighed.
“Give it a few weeks,” she said, hugging his arm. “Let Edge talk among themselves as they weed this season. People love to gossip when they’re hands and knees in the dirt. Let’s see what stories grow and then go from there.”
“Stories,” Perrin whispered as if it was a disgusting word.
“Yes, people believe stories. They like stories, more than they like facts,” Mahrree insisted. “And today the story is, Perrin Shin is a devastatingly handsome man with an utterly charming wife, two adorable children, a hideous dog, and—best of all—he’s nice to his mother-in-law. You’re golden.”
“The whole village doesn’t see me the same way you do.” He smiled.
“Right there! That smile. Get rid of that stiff, fake one and let others see that one.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t need that kind of competition, my wife.”
She laughed.
His smile faded. “You’re right about stories though, Mahrree. But too often they twist the wrong way. Nothing even has to change—and actually, nothing has—but everyone perceives there’s been a change, and their imaginations create far worse ‘facts’ as to what that means. They could just as easily assume that Perrin Shin is a devious man who uses his family to make a good impression. Then, when the people trust him again, he sweeps in with his army and takes over the village! Just like the army did when they rebelled against King Querul the Second.”
Mahrree exhaled. “I don’t think people know history well enough to remember that happened. And it was only for several moons that the army and the king sparred against each other. There wasn’t even that much bloodshed, only a lot of posturing and assuming and insinuations—”
“Just like now,” he said dully.
She groaned. “Can’t think like that. Keep smiling. And waving.” She demonstrated by waving to a couple of girls walking a cow along the side of the road opposite of them.
They smiled timidly at Mahrree.
She elbowed her husband. “I said smile, soldier!”
He tried a mostly-handsome-but-trying-too-hard-so-it-was-actually-scary grin and waved reluctantly.
The girls broke into a nervous jog, dragging the cow behind them.
---
Lieutenant Heth marched smartly up the wide stone stairs into the Administrative Headquarters, nodding to the pages in short red jackets who held open the doors.
Another Command School student was marching out at the same time, slightly pale. His bi-annual interview with Chairman Mal must not have gone as well as he hoped.
Heth smirked and continued to the Chairman’s office where he was soon ushered in.
“Sit, Heth,” Mal said as he perused a document in his hands. “You know which chair.”
“Yes, sir,” Heth said, taking a seat directly in front of Mal’s large desk. He waited, sitting at attention. Part of the interview was the waiting. Mal liked to see how long it took a young man to squirm.
“I’m looking at your marks here,” Mal said after several minutes.
“May I explain, sir?” Heth licked his lips. “You see—”
Mal looked up at him. “Did I give you permission?”
Heth gulped. First failure, already. He shook his head. “No, sir.”
“Truly surprising,” the Chairman said slowly rereading the page. “Well, then, I suppose all that’s left to say is, Congratulations on graduating early.”
Heth was stunned silent, his eyebrows furrowing. “Uh, but sir, my marks—”
Mal tossed the page into the fire.
Heth had wondered why Mal had a fire burning in his hearth on one of the hottest days of the year.
“Oh, dear,” Mal said simply. “Well, I knew the numbers on that. Lieutenant Heth, you will retrieve your things from the dormitories and move into your new room tonight.”
Heth dared to smile. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir! Who do I report to at the garrison?”
“Not the garrison. My mansion.”
Heth couldn’t have prevented his eyebrows from shooting upwards even if both hands were holding them down. “The mansion, sir?”
“Been a few years since you’ve been there, hasn’t it, Sonoforen? Thought you might enjoy staying there again.”
“I would, sir, I would! My father had a guest room for me—”
“Which has remained untouched, I assure you. A bit of cleaning, but otherwise . . .”
Heth grinned fully now. “Dormin will be so jealous—”
“Where is he?” Mal said, his cutting tone suddenly so frosty it nearly extinguished the fire.
“I still don’t know,” Heth admitted. “Haven’t heard anything from him. But if I do, you’ll be the first to know.”
Mal nodded once. “Now, you understand I’m not letting you stay at the mansion as a reward, but so that I can train you more fully.”
“Oh. Yes. Of course, sir.” He licked his lips again. “Does this mean the time is getting ripe?”
“There’s something being planned right now, yes. But that’s not what I want you for. Twice already my testing of a certain general’s son has produced unsatisfactory results. There’s a slim chance there will be a third failure, so that’s why you’ll be in place for the fourth attempt. You’ll be my fail-safe.”
Heth smiled formally. “Thank you, sir. I look forward to serving you and the general in any ways that I can.”
“Well said,” Mal nodded. “Now, I want you to keep very quiet and to yourself. Now more than ever it’s essential that we keep your identity unknown. No one in my mansion has ever seen you before, and it will be known that I have selected you, along with another new officer, as additional guards because I’m feeling insecure about my safety.”
“Understood, sir.”
“Good. Now, when you arrive at the mansion, I’ll have someone waiting who will prepare you for the next situation.”
“Yes, sir. How will I recognize him, sir?”
“Everyone can recognize Gadiman, Heth. Ever seen a nauseated weasel?”
---
“So,” said Perrin as he trudged into the kitchen for dinner. “Heard any new stories today?”
Mahrree frowned. “Unfortunately yes. What is it with these people? Did you know that the commander in Winds has supposedly stationed soldiers at every intersection? And in Coast, anyone coming to see the waves at the shore has to sign a form first? And no one knows why, but soldiers are holding the forms.”
Perrin groaned and slouched on a chair in the kitchen. “I know why those things are happening, but what’s the rumor in Edge?”
“The soldiers are plotting,” Mahrree said mysteriously, “And no one knows what, but it’s creeping to Edge, just you wait and see! That major is plotting something!” She rolled her eyes. “Edgers are the most suspicious people in the world.”
He shrugged. “Sounds like people in Winds and Coast are suspicious, too.”
“So, what are the facts?”
“Not nearly as interesting as the stories. Except for maybe Coast,” he added thoughtfully. “You see, some visitors there a few weeks ago were actually wading in the water—”
“They went in?” Mahrree was aghast. Even the bravest fishermen never waded in the salty water if they could avoid it.
Perrin nodded. “Then the strangest thing happened. These huge fish, larger than people, came right up to them. Had these tall fins on their backs and blew air out of a hole on top of their heads. They even seemed to be trying to communicate, making these squeaking sounds.”
“Did the people die?” she asked breathlessly.
“No, they ran right out of there. The giant fish swam off, a few even leaping in the air, as if patrolli
ng the waters to make sure no people go in. So yes, there are a few soldiers posted there to watch for any more incidents, and to warn people. Several visitors have even given their names and home villages to the soldiers in case something happens to them and a giant fish rushes out of the water and eats them or something.”
“The soldiers are there protecting them,” Mahrree sighed. “But that’s not what the world wants to believe, is it?”
“And in Winds they’ve had some problems with too many wagons on the roads. The main bridge over the Wind River washed out, so soldiers were redirecting wagons to other roads, which caused a few jams. Until the bridge is repaired, yes, soldiers are on a few intersections trying to prevent accidents.”
“Well, there goes all the mystery from that story,” Mahrree said. “But no one in Edge will believe it. And giant fish? They’ll think that’s a diversion from the real story—the commander at Coast is taking over!”
“Ha,” Perrin said mirthlessly. “The commander at Coast is a fat colonel older than my father who wants nothing more than to eat crabs and watch all the old men walk along the shore with their old wives for their twentieth wedding anniversaries.” He rolled his eyes. “The only thing he’d ever take over is the best bench.”
But Mahrree was bothered by something else. “You think we’ll be old at age forty-eight for our twentieth anniversary?”
“You know what I mean.”
She stood behind him and massaged his broad, tight shoulders. “I think you’re going to have to do something.”
“Our twentieth anniversary isn’t for seventeen more years. We just celebrated our third, remember? Shem came over to watch the children and—”
“No,” she laughed. “I mean—”
“I know what you mean,” he said, dejected. “Phase Two. I have to put a stop to this, at least here in Edge. I have to win their hearts and minds all over again.”
Mahrree cringed. “I really don’t want to debate in public again. It’s been so long—”
“I was thinking about a debate, but I wasn’t thinking about you,” he assured her.
“Why not?” she asked, suddenly feeling insulted.
“There’s someone else who needs to make himself known here, too. And for that, I’ll need your help.”
---
It was with almost perverse pleasure that Mahrree knocked on the door of the small shed the next afternoon.
“Come in?” called the timid voice.
Mahrree threw open the door, hitting the large desk as she did so.
“Ah, Mrs. Shin!” Mr. Hegek was visibly relieved as he stood to greet her. “I thought you were someone else looking for another shovel.”
“No, no. You’re exactly the man I want to see. You see, I have a problem.” She leaned toward him, friendlier than she ever had before.
The poor man actually attempted a small smile.
“As it is, the entire village has a problem, and I believe you’re the man who can help fix it.”
His smile vanished as his little green eyes tripled in size. “Me? Are you sure?”
“Oh yes, absolutely. You see, Edge is . . . well, edgy right now. Administrative changes to the schools, the forts, the magistrates—everyone is imagining the worst about people they used to know and don’t know at all,” she hinted.
“Are you talking about me?” he whispered.
She really didn’t know what people thought of him, but she knew what she thought. “I swear you live in this shack, Mr. Hegek.”
He glanced nervously around as if she could tell.
She suddenly felt enormous sympathy for him, and regretted ever thinking him to be an arm of the Administrators. He was barely a fingernail, and a clipped one at that.
“Mr. Hegek,” she smiled sweetly, sincerely, “let’s give Edge an opportunity to get to know and trust you. You’re in charge of all the schools that begin again next week, but how many parents have you met?”
“A, a, a, a few,” he stammered.
“You’re going to meet them all, and this is how: you mentioned that you enjoyed debating as a boy, right? Well, no one here has dared have a public debate since the changes were made with the fort. I think everyone’s afraid they may say something wrong.”
“With, with, with . . . your husband now, now in charge.” He nodded too frequently.
“He’s not happy about any of this either, Mr. Hegek,” Mahrree confided quietly. “And he also enjoys debating. He hasn’t had a worthy opponent since we married, and I think he may be a bit rusty, but that’s all right—”
“Wait, wait, wait . . . whoa, hold on,” Hegek held up his hands. “Are you suggesting that I debate . . . debate . . .” His hands moved, but his mouth couldn’t anymore. Slowly he sank back into his chair.
“My husband, yes, on the 63rd Day of Weeding. School starts next week, so it will be perfect. You can go to each of the schools, introduce yourself, tell them that you expect to see all the children and their parents in the amphitheater that night—”
That’s when Mahrree realized that many parts of the director still hadn’t moved. His hands were still up, failing to stop any of her words, and his mouth twisted oddly.
She bit her lip as his chin began to tremble. “Oh, Mr. Hegek, he’s really a big softy!” she assured him, hoping her voice didn’t carry out of his office-shack. “This will be good. It will allow the village to get to know you better and show that Major Shin approves of debates. You have yet to meet my husband. I promise his reputation is much more fearsome than the real man. People used to love him, up until several weeks ago.”
Mr. Hegek’s hands finally came together to start massaging each other. “I, I, I, I . . . understand he’s killed a dozen Guarders,” he whispered as if it were a great secret.
Mahrree leaned in closer. “There’s some debate about the actual number single-handedly,” she whispered back, “but . . . are you a Guarder?”
He gasped and blinked. “No! Of course not!”
Mahrree stood back up and smiled. “Then you have nothing to worry about! Perrin?”
The director nearly slid out of his chair in terror when his door flew open, catching again on the great desk. Ducking so as to not crack his head on the low door, the major marched into this office with a big smile and an outstretched hand. “Good afternoon!”
“Major!” Hegek whimpered. He braced himself with his toes and tried to push himself back up into sitting position. He stared at Perrin’s still outstretched hand and, deciding he should probably stand in his presence, looked for a clean spot on his desk to push himself up. Instead, he knocked over a large stack next to the edge of the desk and a landslide of directives floated aimlessly to the floor.
Perrin stepped quickly around the desk, grabbed the traumatized director’s hand, and pulled him effortlessly to a standing position. “Just call me Perrin,” he said as kindly as he could.
Mr. Hegek shriveled to smaller than Mahrree, looked up into Perrin’s face and obediently nodded. Then he turned to Mahrree with pleading in his eyes.
“I’ll leave you two alone to decide a topic. You don’t need me meddling,” and she closed the door. A distinct whimper leaked from the shed as Mahrree walked briskly onto the school grounds to giggle. Once she composed herself she circled the shack for several minutes, trying to hear what the muffled voices were saying.
Eventually she heard Perrin laugh, and a few minutes later she heard an unfamiliar laugh; Perrin had won over the director. About ten minutes later they emerged like old friends.
“Until three nights from now, Major Shin. And don’t be too confident. I may be only as tall as your wife, but I do more than flutter eyelashes to win a debate.” Mr. Hegek waved to Mahrree and walked back into his office with what Mahrree thought was almost a jaunty little step.
Mahrree turned on Perrin as they walked home. “Well done! And what did he mean by that, ‘flutter eyelashes’? What did you say to him?” She jabbed him gently in the ribs.
“I only gave him my version of our debates,” he said. “I told him I didn’t want any tricks played, and he became so nervous I thought every paper on his desk would slide away. So I told him what kinds of tricks I was talking about.” He winked at his wife and put his arm around her. “He lightened up considerably after that. I was sure you wouldn’t mind.”
“Well, when you put it that way, what can I say? What’s your topic?”
“I suggested we revisit an old favorite of his, and he recommended we twist it a little. We’ll argue the merits of repealing or altering the First Law of Nature, and who should be responsible for it. He’ll go around on the first day of school, tell all the children they should be there, and since the major has requested it . . .” Perrin sighed. “Honestly, I’ve never been so nervous for a debate in my entire life! There’s so much at stake, Mahrree.”
“Even more than when we were debating?”
“Yes, even more than that. I knew I’d eventually win you over. Just a matter of time,” he said offhandedly. “But this is the whole village. I have to be the major and still be their neighbor. I don’t know if I can restore that balance.”
“If anyone can, it’s you.”
---
The lone figure of a young man made his way up into the forest, heading in a northerly direction, one hundred twenty-six paces from the fresh spring at the edge of the woods. It was well past dark, and the figure’s dark clothing hid him well. He sat down on a large rock by a hot bubbling spring and waited.
Moments later another figure approached him from the north, dressed in green and brown mottled clothing, and sat down next to him. “The forest has become very active this week. Something big is coming soon. Do you think you’re ready?”
The younger man sighed. “It’s what I’ve been waiting for, for over a year. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
The older man next to him nodded. “And now for the real question—is he ready?”
“Oh, absolutely! There’s no one more prepared than him. He can take on the world.”
The man smiled at his companion’s enthusiasm. “Now, think carefully and honestly. This is important. Is he really ready, or is your closeness to the situation clouding your objectivity?”
The younger man stared into the bubbling spring, not at all concerned by its close proximity. They’d been watching it for decades, and all it ever did was bubble. “I may be close to the situation, but I’ve never met anyone quite like him, or his wife.” He looked up at the man. “Isn’t he the reason I’m here? Is there any doubt?”
The older man shook his head. “No. There’s no doubt. Just caution. And concern. Some of it may strike a little too close to home for him. There’s also concern for you as well.”
The younger man smiled. “I know I’m doing the right thing. This is where I’m supposed to be. Is there anything else I should be doing?”
“No, you are doing the right thing. And I don’t think there’s anyone more apt for the position than you, Zenos.”
Shem nodded. “Then let them come. We’re ready.”
---
Rector Densal smiled as he looked at the tables and chairs crowded with congregation members eating, talking, and laughing. He loved Holy Days because each felt like trip away from the world, a day lifted out of time each week where everything was different, when cares were set aside, and everyone came together to discuss The Writings and life and readied themselves for another week.
Not only was this Hogal Densal’s love, but his life. He couldn’t have imagined doing anything different with the time the Creator allotted him than to remind those he loved about the Creator who loved them.
It was an unusual moment for him. No one was rushing up to speak to him, or asking to meet with him for “only a few minutes” in his office, minutes that frequently turned into hours as sorrows, troubles, and concerns spilled out unheeded, the confessors desperately hoping Rector Densal could help them find a way to clean up the mess. He always could.
But he also knew exactly why he had this rare free moment and what he was to do with it.
He searched the packed congregation hall where, three hours ago, the benches were filled with those to hear his sermon, then moved aside to bring in tables for eating. Now that most of the food everyone brought to share was gone, his congregation began to change the seating arrangements yet again for an afternoon of conversations. Near the middle, toward the left, he saw them.
Mahrree was at one table talking and laughing with some other young mothers as they bounced their babies or discreetly nursed them. Jaytsy played nearby on the floor with other toddlers and a pile of soft toys that older women brought each week to entertain the little ones.
At a table nearby sat Perrin and Corporal Shem Zenos, the only two blue uniforms in the entire hall, with several other men. Usually on sunny afternoons the corporal would be outside with the older children organizing them in games or challenging them to races. But lately he sat next to his commander, watching him with the admiration of a younger brother thrilled to have been saved a spot at the men’s table.
Ever since Perrin became the highly suspect Eyes and Ears and Voice, Zenos had stayed closer to him on Holy Days, his happy, gentle face acting as a bridge between the neighbors and the major they now feared. Gradually members of the congregation began to realize nothing had changed with Perrin and warmed up to him again, thanks to Corporal Zenos’s unwavering dedication. Still, Perrin held back in the conversations about Idumean politics in which he was usually the loudest voice.
But today he back was in the thick of the conversation with a dozen other men. The discussion had turned to the idiocy of King Oren, and one man claimed he’d heard that Oren had stabled his horses in the throne room during a particularly harsh Raining Season.
Perrin, the only man in Edge who had ever met Oren, and had been in that throne room many times, jumped in with an elaborate description of it to prove he’d never seen any horses stabled there.
And next to him sat Shem Zenos, beaming unabashedly.
Hogal could read him as if he were a notice on the messenger boards.
The rector watched his great, great niece toddle over to the loud men’s table in search of one wearing a dark blue uniform. She stopped between Perrin and Shem, looking at each of them. Since her father was leaning forward in a vivid description about the polished stone floor of the throne room which no horses would ever tolerate stepping on, Jaytsy looked up at Shem instead.
He saw her, grinned, and picked her up to sit on his lap. She leaned against his chest sleepily and popped her thumb into her mouth. Shem cuddled her, putting his lips to the top of her head, but stopping before actually kissing her dark brown hair.
From her table, Mahrree looked over to see where Jaytsy had wandered off to. When she saw her daughter on Shem’s lap, she smiled. Shem nodded to her, and Mahrree went back to her discussion with the other mothers.
Shem continued to watch Mahrree for a few moments, a small smile on his face.
Perrin didn’t notice.
But Hogal did. The boy was as transparent as the windows on the command tower, and Hogal could see right in.
After a minute Jaytsy, all rested, wriggled down from Shem’s lap and went back to the other small children playing. Shem returned to listening to the major describe how the mansion stables were more elaborate than even the houses at the new Edge of Idumea Estates.
Hogal slowly walked in the direction of the table, and Shem looked away from Perrin to see Hogal nearing. Rector Densal raised an eyebrow at him and cocked his head slightly. Zenos blinked in surprise, nodded once and quietly pushed away his chair.
Perrin didn’t see his greatest admirer leaving the table to join Hogal.
“Corporal Zenos, might I have a moment of your time?” he said softly as he put a hand on the large boy’s shoulder. He had to reach almost as high as he did when he put his hand on Perrin.
“Of course, Rector Densal. Can I help y
ou with something?”
“Indeed you can, my boy. Let’s go into my office.”
He directed him toward a small room off the kitchen area of the rectory. When they went in, Hogal shut the door and gestured to two plain chairs before a small desk. “Have a seat, Shem.”
Hesitantly Corporal Zenos sat down, rubbing his palms on his trousers. “What can I do for you, Rector?”
Hogal sat down opposite of him and smiled. “I don’t have much time. Someone will be pounding on that door soon, so I’ll get right to the point: I know who you are—really are—and why you’re here in Edge.”
Hogal knew he had it right because the corporal, unprepared for that opening, dropped his jaw nearly to his chest.
Then Hogal hit him again. “I’ve done all I could to prepare Perrin for the Creator, and I’m sure you’ll understand when I say that I won’t allow anyone or anything to interfere with that.”
“Sir, I . . . I . . . think you may have me confused with someone else—” Zenos stammered.
“No, Shem Zenos, I do not. Years ago the Creator told me what He intended for Perrin. He was only eighteen then, just a little younger than you, and not headed in the right direction. It was my task to change his heading. We spent some time together, and he grew a great deal in those weeks. I kept writing to him, hoping he would want to serve in Edge. He eventually did, and I couldn’t have been happier about it. These past three years have been wonderful, but I’m simply growing too old to keep up with him anymore, and I know I won’t be around forever.”
Corporal Zenos couldn’t even speak.
“So I’m leaving him to your care, Shem Zenos,” Hogal said in the heaviest tone he’d ever used. “I expect you to watch out for him. He’s now your responsibility. And I expect you to keep a close eye on only him from now on.”
The poor young soldier could only gulp.
Hogal grinned that the message was received, waggled his eyebrows, slapped him on the back and said, in his normally cheery voice, “Good luck, my boy!”
Then he stood up, opened the door, and escorted a dumbfounded Corporal Zenos out.
Chapter 11 ~ “Are you going somewhere?!”
