by Trish Mercer
It was the morning of the 8th Day of Harvest as Mahrree stood behind her husband and put her arms around him. He was sitting in a chair eating his breakfast so early in the morning that the children weren’t yet up. Mahrree kissed his thick neck.
“No time for arguing this morning, Mrs. Shin,” he said as he swallowed down his eggs.
Mahrree giggled. “Wasn’t really planning on it. You realize that for the past five weeks you’ve been a complete bear, right?”
He grunted. “So that’s why everyone within a ten mile radius has kept their distance?”
“A bear that’s come out of hibernation—”
Mahrree she kissed his neck again, a strategy that usually mellowed him but didn’t seem to have any effect this morning. Instead, a vein bulged there and threatened to pop.
“—and sees the village as a beehive. Yes, you’ve been terrifying, my wonderful husband.”
“That’s because almost 5,000 people—I’ll know the exact number later today—look to me to keep them secure.” He inhaled nearly an entire slice of ham. “And the High General of Idumea has tasked me with improving the army and our defenses,” he garbled formally as he chewed.
Mahrree sat down next to him. “And your new measures will do exactly that, Perrin. I have no doubt. You’ll change the world with your innovations. Your father will be very proud, and the Guarders will be very stunned.”
He only grunted again as he gulped down the last of his breakfast. “Is there a purpose to this discussion?”
Mahrree sighed. “You’re going out in public today. All of the soldiers. Get to Know Your Friendly Soldiers Day?”
“That’s not the official title, Mahrree.”
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about. You need to ease up a bit.”
He twisted to see her. “Ease up?”
“Only a bit,” she emphasized. “Perrin, this is going to succeed. All of your changes. Just . . . relax, a tiny bit.” She put a hand on one of his broad shoulders and massaged it. “You’re so tense.”
“Now’s not the time for relaxing, Mahrree!” he said impatiently and stood up, shoving his chair behind him. “Remember to stay here until you’re visited.”
“But Perrin, I have a suggestion—”
He was already out the door.
“This isn’t going to work,” she muttered.
“Well,” she decided a moment later, “I better make sure it does.”
She put on her cloak, went next door to ask Mrs. Hersh to sit at her house with the sleeping children until she returned, and headed up to the fort. Only momentarily did she wonder where Barker was that morning, but he’d show up again sometime. He always did. Exactly how he got out of the yard each night, she didn’t know. There were no holes under the fence, and the only other way would be to climb. But who ever heard of a climbing dog? She had far more important things on her mind than an impossible-to-train dog.
Perrin’s plan was good. Excellent, actually, Mahrree thought proudly as she headed up the fort road in the cool, dark morning. Far up ahead she could barely make out her husband’s bulky shape as he strode through the western gates of the fort. She still had several minutes before she reached it, and maybe Perrin would have considered her suggestion.
Otherwise, he would not be happy at all to see her there.
Today was the first stage of his Plan Edge Awareness. He’d been working on it day and night for weeks. Mahrree tried to help him as she could, but after she suggested he try her phrase reducing technique to avoid writing “Plan Edge Awareness,” he quit taking her advice.
“Ha-ha, Mahrree. Very funny,” he snarled when he wrote the shortened phrase one night. “Yes, I can get the men to rally around ‘PEA’. But not without a lot of sniggering.”
Normally he probably would’ve laughed at PEA, but she hadn’t heard him laugh since Hogal and Tabbit died. She and the children tried to give him his space as he spent each evening in the study writing and rewriting the plans he then brought to the fort each morning to work on some more.
Today would be Stage One, as Perrin blandly named it. Mahrree liked her title better, but if she didn’t get to the fort before the soldiers went out, it wouldn’t happen that way.
For the past week the citizens of Edge had been told they should stay at their homes today in order to meet the two soldiers that would be coming. Names and ages of all occupants in the houses would be recorded to identify if anyone were missing in the future. Each house would be numbered, odd numbers on one side, even on the other. Every road would also be numbered or named alphabetically, as the residents decided, so as to create a system whereby the soldiers could quickly identify a specific house in case of another raid.
The villagers seemed to warm up to the idea only after they were assured that the numbers assigned to their houses could be decorated in any way they wished. Hycymum had already contacted a blacksmith to create a variety of wrought iron numbers to put up on her house once she received her designation. She planned to give the extra numbers to her neighbors for a “consistent look” in the neighborhood.
But it was the reaction of the people to two soldiers standing at their front doors that worried Mahrree. Ever since the attack, the villagers realized that the soldiers were strong, skilled, and just a bit intimidating.
But Perrin didn’t understand Edgers’ trepidation, so Mahrree was going to fix that.
She entered the gates of the fort just before dawn and saw the soldiers pouring into the large indoor training arena, most likely for their assignments. She avoided the crowded main doors and instead slipped into a side door adjacent to a long hallway just outside of the arena, where a few straggling soldiers hurried from the mess hall. She waited for them to pass before she timidly crept up to the open doors at the front of the room and peered in.
The training arena was the largest enclosure in the fort, constructed of wide planked boards for the walls and high ceiling, but with a packed earthen ground which more easily soaked up the blood, her husband told her—only half in jest—the first time he showed it to her. Dozens of bales of hay that normally stood against the walls were this morning lined up in rows across the room to serve as seating for the soldiers. Usually the bales were positioned to cushion—as far as a bale could be considered a cushion—falling soldiers who were thrown during a wrestling match, or to catch the arrows behind the targets of soldiers practicing their aim.
In the front of the arena was a wide raised wooden platform where Major Shin demonstrated combat techniques and delivered lectures as brief as he could make them. Whenever she passed the noisy arena she usually heard shouts, cheers, or laughter coming from it, often accompanied by a stern lecture, then guffaws pointed at a less-than-effective soldier.
But today, the training arena was surprisingly quiet, considering the amount of men it held. That was because in front of the whispering soldiers, many still filing in, stood an imposing Major Shin on the platform with his arms folded and his demeanor stern.
Mahrree groaned. He definitely needs softening, she thought.
The major noticed her movement at the door and glanced over, then did a double-take. His glower sharpened.
Mahrree tried to smile, but she found herself whimpering too much to make it convincing.
The major’s eyes bulged as he strode off the platform and straight for his wife standing in the hallway.
She froze in place and cringed as he growled, “Mahrree, what are you doing here?”
A handful of almost-late soldiers passed them and tried not to snigger. Mahrree assumed her presence was almost as bad as having one’s mother show up to school with one’s purposely forgotten jacket. And then having that mother kissing one on the cheek in front of all one’s friends.
“I know it’s inappropriate for me to be here . . .”
She bit her lip nervously, but forced herself to find her courage. This was her husband, after all. She’d even seen him out of the uniform.
“Perrin, this
isn’t going to work,” she told him. “They look too, too . . . I don’t know, soldiery.”
“What?”
“Please trust me on this. I know this village—some people are going to feel very nervous about opening their doors to them.”
Major Shin raised one eyebrow at her. “They’re the Heroes of Edge. That’s why I scheduled this for the day after the Heroes Celebration, while their status is still fresh on the villagers’ minds.”
“I know,” she said trying to stay calm in the face of an irate bear, “but still, can’t you . . . soften them up a little?”
“Soften soldiers?”
He wasn’t taking this well.
“Just to make it easier on everyone. It’s one thing to see them come running in the night with their swords drawn to rescue you. But it’s something different entirely to see two of them standing in front of your door.”
“People respect the uniforms. Besides, they’ll be holding paper, Mahrree, not swords.”
“People also fear the uniforms, especially if they are wearing swords.”
“Major Shin?” Karna interrupted, coming to the door. “The men are ready, sir. And Major, she may have a point.”
Mahrree beamed at Brillen. Karna had been promoted to captain only two weeks ago, and it seemed to make him a little bolder.
Perrin squinted. “What do you propose? I’ll listen, but I’m not promising anything.”
“Well,” Mahrree said, “I might need a soldier to experiment on.”
“What? Not me! Mahrree, this is—”
“Sir,” Captain Karna bravely interrupted again, his brown eyes a bit mischievous. “Just let her try? On someone else, of course. Could be kind of fun—interesting,” he corrected himself. “We want the men to be seen as heroes, remember? Nice and friendly gesture to the village, we’re the good men?” Karna bobbed his head with a quirky smile.
The major shot him a look that told him he was considering rescinding the promotion.
Mahrree suppressed her snort, but winked appreciatively at Karna.
Perrin turned to his wife. “Your mother’s not involved with this in any way, is she?”
“Goodness, no. This is all my doing.”
“Hmm,” he grumbled, “that may be worse.” He sighed. “All right, come with me.”
As the major and the captain took to the podium, Mahrree stood along the side of the wall in the training arena. She felt extremely self-conscious as one hundred pairs of eyes tried not to notice her.
“Men, you know the plan, and you’re here for your road assignments, but there’s a concern. Some are worried that maybe you will appear to be too. . . too . . .”
Mahrree could tell he was struggling to find an alternative to “soldiery,” and it made her lips twitch.
“—much like soldiers,” he finally said. “Mrs. Shin believes she has a solution.” He turned and cocked his head for her to come to the podium.
Mahrree was surprised she was on already, and she took a deep nervous breath as she walked up to the stand. As she gazed down at the soldiers she was amazed at how similar they appeared packed into a room, with their short hair and shaved faces and identical blue uniforms. The only one who stood out was Grandpy Neeks who was posted by a table in the back and scowling, but trying to be polite about it.
“I, uh, need a volunteer, please.”
Private Aims was sitting resolutely in the front row, until someone behind jabbed him severely enough to make him leap off the bale of hay. The men laughed and Mahrree smiled kindly at him.
“I see you’re conscripted to deal with me again, Private. I’m sorry, but I also appreciate your spirit of volunteerism.” She waved him onto the stand as he turned bright red and sent a dirty look to the soldier sitting behind him.
Corporal Zenos grinned and held up his hands in innocence.
Mahrree positioned Aims to face the soldiers and analyzed his uniform as she circled him. Several men tittered and chuckled at his nervousness until the major loudly cleared his throat.
“The sword has to stay at the fort, men,” she announced. “Please remove it, Aims.”
Aims looked at the major for confirmation.
“I don’t think any of you will run into any problems out there,” Shin said reluctantly.
Grandpy cocked his gray head in surprise.
“And actually, sir,” added Karna, “I think the sword may cause problems. How many of you would have loved to get your hands on one of those when you were fifteen?”
Many of the soldiers had guilty grins on their faces. Aims removed the sword and handed it to the major.
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 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 guffawed 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, and 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 toward 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. 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 that 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. 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.
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 grinned at her in a way that hinted at a future argument and kicked his horse out the gates toward 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. “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, but then he shut it and looked up at the sky.
Mahrree beamed in approval. He wasn’t the Administrators’ boy 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 got 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 his 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 for 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 on her porch. 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 happened 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 toward 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 porch. “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.
His companion remained at the door of the neighbor’s house, talking with an elderly man who seemed most grateful the chair was gone.
Satisfied that the set of soldiers understood how to be helpful in somewhat hazardous ways, Perrin set off down the road again. At the western edge of the village, he stopped again at a farm and stared in amazement.
Three soldiers stood knee-deep in a mucky canal, digging out a blockage. The farmer who owned it leaned on his crutch, his broken leg still healing from the Guarder attack, while the fourth soldier took down information about his household. More residents stood in line, waiting to give their information, and also to call out advice to the soldiers whose uniforms would need cleaning tomorrow.
The three of them looked up at their commander apprehensively, but Perrin smiled his approval.
“I had no idea soldiers were so useful,” one man a little older than Perrin said to him. “I only thought they were good for chasing a man in black every now and then.”
Perrin pulled out his cheesy line again. “The Army of Idumea is here to serve.” This time, however, Major Shin felt it a bit more sincerely.
As he rode away he smiled up to the sky. “See Hogal?” he murmured. “I learned a few things from you. I still could use you here, though.”
Perrin fancied he heard a response, but it was likely just his mem
ory fulfilling a wish.
No you don’t, my boy. There’s nothing more I could teach you. Well done, Perrin.
---
It was well past dinner time when Perrin finally came through the back door. He looked exhausted but—for the first time in weeks—a little bit pleased.
Mahrree smiled tentatively at him. “So I’ve been hearing stories all day. Apparently you gave someone a ride to fetch a midwife?”
Perrin nodded. “I did. Heard on my way home it was a healthy boy.”
“And Shem was tasked by a widow to fix her wobbly gate?”
Perrin began to smile. “And her fence, and she wants him back again tomorrow for a leaky window.”
“And several other soldiers helped move hay, chase down a stray calf, hang a barn door, patch a leaking roof and a host of other tasks?” Mahrree recited. “Sounds like Stage One turned out to be, ‘Get to Know Your Friendly Soldiers Day’ after all! Or maybe, ‘Pull Out The To-Do List, Here Come The Soldiers Day’?”
“More like, ‘Feed the Soldiers to See Whose Cake They Judge is Best Day’. Somehow Gizzada started that, and I don’t think there’s a crumb of cake left anywhere in the village!” Perrin laughed.
He actually laughed, Mahrree sighed in thankful amazement. It had been weeks since she heard that sound that reminded her of deep, happy bells.
“Oh, I’m so relieved. Well done, Major.”
“You know I didn’t do anything,” he shook his head. “I have to admit, you had a rather good idea there. And Hogal thought so as well. I could feel him, Mahrree. He was influencing the soldiers and showing them how they could do some good first.”
“And Tabbit was reminding the villagers what needed fixing?”
Perrin chuckled. “Probably! That was the lesson they always tried to teach me. Service first, leadership later. Edge loves the soldiers now.”
“That should make Stage Two easier, shouldn’t it?”
“It might make it more difficult, if people keep finding odd jobs for the soldiers. Stage Two is all about speed, not finishing off people’s to-do lists!”
“So when’s the first Race to Edge?” Mahrree asked excitedly.
“That’s not what it’s called, by the way,” he said, slightly aggravated. “Neeks will have the map and designations finished day after tomorrow. So in three days,” he began to grin again, “Edge will experience Stage Two and be invaded once more. This time by soldiers.”
“Now,” Perrin said in a sudden shift of tone mixed with annoyance and something else Mahrree couldn’t quite discern, “exactly what possessed you to barge your way into my training arena and alter the uniforms of my soldiers?”
Mahrree bit her lower lip.
Her husband started to smile when he saw that.
“Are you still mad about this morning?” she fretted.
“Are the children asleep?”
She nodded.
“Then let’s just say there are a few things about this morning we need to discuss.”
Mahrree giggled.
---
Two men sat in a dark room of an unlit building.
“Exactly what is he doing up there in Edge?” Mal asked.
Brisack shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure. We have only a few left in the forest up there. Still no word from the Quiet Man, but,” he hesitated as Mal glared, “help will be in place at the fort in the next few weeks. I’ve thoroughly prepared him and have the utmost confidence he’ll be successful.”
Mal sighed. “He better. I have my doubts, leaving this one all up to you. Major Shin is proving to be quite the busy bear. He’s finding a way to keep an eye on every citizen.”
Brisack nodded in admiration. “Sounds like he’s taken his position as Eyes and Ears and Voice of the Administrators to a fascinating level. Very progressive, I’d say.”
“Progressive?” Mal said in a slight growl. “Progress comes from the Administrators, not the citizens!”
“Shin isn’t a citizen,” Brisack pointed out. “He’s an officer.”
Mal stared out the black window. “Just what are you doing, Perrin?”
Chapter 16 ~ “But bears don’t innovate!”
