The Forest at the Edge of the World
Page 11
But for graduating top of his class at the Command School at the university, he was given the biggest responsibility available for graduating cadets: second in command of the new fort in Edge.
He’d heard the talk—it was only Edge. It was only the smallest fort in the world, likely to never see any action, and likely established only to give the High General’s son an early command. But it was still a most coveted opportunity. He’d been studying for this assignment for the past six moons and was in frequent contact with the captain. Still, staring at the fort made it all a little overwhelming. He would’ve welcomed a familiar face.
Then again, he’d arrived earlier than expected. He could hardly expect Shin to wait around on the off chance his lieutenant came a day early.
The master sergeant in charge of building, on loan from the fort at Rivers, assured him the captain would return after sunset. “He’s doing what High General ordered him to do—winning over the hearts and minds of the people of Edge!” Then he laughed at a joke the lieutenant seemed to have missed.
Lieutenant Brillen Karna set out to give himself a tour of the fort. The tall command tower provided unobstructed views of the forest and the mountains beyond to the north, and the village to the south. The large forward office with its vast windows and enormous desk would be an excellent planning area, and the adjoining office for the commanding officer held impressive views of the east, south, and west.
The officers’ quarters and enlisted men’s barracks were nearly completed, but the mess hall still needed a roof. The hospital wing was more progressive than any he had ever seen, with thirty cots and dozens of dark colored bottles lining the shelves. The armory was waiting to be stocked with the swords, long knives, and bows and arrows that should arrive in the next week. The stables were nearly completed, the feed barns were already filled, and the wall that surrounded the entire compound would be finished in just a few days.
None of the land in the fort or the surrounding area showed evidence of danger. Just a few hundred paces to the north in the deep woods lay all kinds of traps—sink holes, small bubbling mud volcanoes, steam vents, and even occasional sprays of hot water.
Many of the recruits waiting to come from Idumea were already worried about living so close to the forests. Karna had assured them no one would enter the woods, but still the stories travelled faster than the wildfire that hit the forest several years ago. That the Guarders would have chosen such an inhospitable place to stage their new raids from was unfathomable to the lieutenant.
But in a way, Karna could understand the Guarders’ warped wisdom. If the army dared to venture in the forest, they wouldn’t escape without losing a horse or soldier to either the thin crust of the ground or a hiding Guarder. The army was limited to the open regions beyond the forest where they could sit and wait for the enemy. Until then, the soldiers would patrol the borders of the forest looking for signs from a people who never left any.
Karna turned from the noisy forest and admired the tall timbers that composed the outer walls of the compound. He was considering the captain’s ingenuity to cut the tops into points when he saw someone in the distance walking with a determined gait to the fort. The sun was just setting, but the lieutenant was sure the large silhouetted figure was Shin. He followed quickly.
As he passed the stables, the sergeant inspecting them called out to him, “You just missed the captain, but you should be able to find him in his office.”
The lieutenant made his way up the tall stairway of about twenty steps that led to the command tower. Part way up he heard a splintering noise. He paused to work out from which direction it came.
When he heard no other sounds, he proceeded cautiously up the stairs. No one was in the forward office, so Karna ventured to the command office. The door was open and he saw Shin wrapping his left hand in white cloth.
“Captain!”
Captain Shin looked up at his lieutenant. “Karna! Good to see you again.” He sounded slightly out of breath. “I didn’t expect you until tomorrow, but I should have known you would be here early. Ever vigilant, ever ready,” he said with a pained smile. “What do you think of the fort so far?”
Karna just stared at the cloth on Shin’s hand which now had a splash of red emerging through it. “Uh, it’s very impressive. The general should be pleased,” he said quickly. “Captain, are you injured?”
Shin’s mouth twitched. “Not permanently, I hope. By the way,” he said in an official tone, “be sure to tell the building sergeant that the quality of wood in this office shows evidence of structural inferiority.”
The lieutenant then saw a hole in the thin inner board that separated the office from the forward room. It was the size of a fist, and partly edged in blood.
Karna squinted and took a closer look.
“Something you want to say, Lieutenant?”
Karna swallowed hard and stood back up to face his new commander. “The reputation of the Shins is well known, sir. Stories abound about your—”
Shin held up his right hand to stop him. “I know what you’re thinking.”
Karna thought that was convenient, since he wasn’t sure what it was himself, and didn’t know where his nervous rambling was headed. All he could remember right then was how a shouting High General Shin could leave a class quaking in their boots. His son was more amiable, but evidently stronger and with an odd manner of testing the structural integrity of his office.
“Don’t worry,” Shin said. “I won’t be requiring my number two man to practice his ‘number two hand’ hitting technique on the walls.”
Karna noticed Shin’s left hand was still in a fist, and growing redder.
“Mainly because I trust you only with a bow, anyway,” Shin said with a hint of teasing. “This was entirely personal, Lieutenant. Not professional.” Then muttering to himself he added, “Not in the least bit.”
Karna dared to smile ever so slightly.
To his surprise, Shin grinned and winked at him.
“Uh, sir? You may not be aware of this, but the hospital wagon arrived early as well. Two surgeons’ assistants came with it and were hoping to surprise you by stocking the supply room before morning, when they were to officially present themselves.” His eyes kept darting to the white cloth, now mostly red and dripping occasionally on the new wooden floor.
Shin didn’t seem to notice the mess.
“Sir, perhaps it would be a good idea to go acquaint yourself with them right now. I’m sure they’ll be quite eager to show off their skills in uh . . . uh . . .”
Shin slapped him on the shoulder. “I see why my father recommended you. Observant, loyal, and with an eye for the obvious which is shockingly absent in most people. Perhaps I will go introduce myself before heading to bed. Claim your quarters tonight, Karna, get some sleep, and then be ready for tomorrow morning. We have an entire village to win over, and I seem to be making the job a bit harder each day.”
Shin started out the door, but paused and put his good hand on the lieutenant’s shoulder.
“And Karna, don’t believe every story you hear about Shins.”
---
The slender man in black chuckled to himself all the way back to the forest. It shouldn’t be this easy. The targets shouldn’t present themselves so obviously. He needed some kind of challenge, didn’t he?
Then again, maybe this was just the cosmos rewarding him for his decades of patience waiting for his skills to be required again. Not since the glory days of Querul the Third had he felt so alive.
It had been that stupid General Shin—the first one, appointed by Querul the Fourth—that cut his fledgling career short. And now, in the marvelous twists of fate only Nature could create, decades later he was called back into service.
If only General Relf Shin had a clue, he’d be riding his fastest horse to Edge, panicked.
The man in black quieted his chuckling. No sense in giving himself away already.
---
Two men sat in
the dark office of an unlit building.
“More reports are coming in,” said the first older man. “A little spottier than I’d like, but not unexpected considering they have no idea to whom the reports go, or who’s at the top. But so far I’m not displeased. However, I do have a question: why would he choose to stay in cold, dull Edge when he has the choice of any village? Coast. Waves. Flax. Somewhere warm that’s far more interesting for a single man.”
“Speculation,” answered the second middle-aged man. “He’s been ordered there. He upset the High General and now Father’s banished him to the dreariest place in the world.”
The first man shook his white head. “No, it seems he actually requested that posting. Now why would he do that?”
The second man shrugged. “Not enough evidence to form a proper speculation. But this development makes him far more intriguing. There’s no obvious logic to it. Women in Edge wear far more clothing than they do in hot humid Waves,” he said with a sly smile. “Maybe he doesn’t know that.”
The first man chuckled. “He does. He’s one of the few that has been all over the world. But I agree with your analysis—we don’t have enough evidence.”
“There’s something more,” his partner said. “According to the last report, he may also be interested in a woman.”
“Oh, how lovely.” The first older man smirked. “This wouldn’t be the first time for him, you know.”
“She’s rather outspoken, too,” the middle-aged man warned. “The report was that she’s been quite vocal about the Administrators. Uh, in the negative.”
But the older man shrugged that off. “Women have never posed a real problem.”
“Tell that to the victims of Oren’s grandmother,” his companion reminded.
“She was an anomaly.”
“So might be this teacher in Edge.”
“No,” the older man said confidently, “the only entanglement I foresee is the one she’ll cause to Shin. She may make him softer than I was hoping, but that also may provide another level of observation. Will he behave more aggressively if he senses a threat to his latest interest?”
The second man pondered that. “But if he secures her as a mate, won’t his responses to a threat be more pronounced?”
“Secures?” his companion cringed. “Are you talking about marriage? Do you how old he is? I realize you know very little about him but trust me—he’s not the marrying kind. He’s the womanizing kind. Stories about him have been floating around for years. Maybe that’s why he went north—he upset too many women in his last posting in Vines and had to get away from them!”
The second man shrugged. “We have a similar situation developing in Grasses. A lieutenant there has a young woman he’s been seeing for a few seasons. Here’s a suggestion: we first test him by utilizing her, then we can see what Shin may be up to. Perhaps we should send another to watch him more closely, stay on top of developments?”
The first nodded. “A few messages have been received about that captain at Grasses. Complaints from his parents, actually. Administrator of Loyalty has been disturbed. Not that it takes much to disturb Gadiman.” The older man sighed. “But some messages will be sent in response. Now as for Edge, they’ll be receiving soldiers soon, and he’ll be busy with getting them situated. We can focus on Grasses for now and check on Shin later when the fort is settled. Until then, we have enough eyes in the area. However, I see nothing wrong with sending that young woman a subtle warning.”
The second man nodded. “Whatever you decide—it’s your world.”
“Yes it is.”
---
The next day Captain Shin forced himself to stare into the forest to record every potential hazard. That’s what a disciplined soldier does—ignores all distractions and focuses only on the threat at hand. As he remembered that, he began to progress again along the borders of the trees. But he never saw another living creature, except for the ground that bubbled and groaned and occasionally rumbled underfoot. Land tremors were common here, he reminded himself as the ground shifted under his feet three times that afternoon.
He had to find the Guarders—that was his purpose in life. Nothing else.
Besides, she hated him now.
And why wouldn’t she? He was starting to hate himself for the way he was treating her.
Chapter 7 ~ “You’re just afraid of my blob and what it may represent.”
There seemed to be nothing else in Edge to talk about except the very public argument the night before. And Mahrree heard about it everywhere—in school, at the market, even from her mother who had attended. She had told Mahrree she’d been there to see if the captain had the same look in his eyes that her daughter had the night of the first debate. She was sure that he did, when his dark eyes weren’t shooting arrows at Mahrree, that is. Everyone had an opinion, and everyone was eager to share it.
Their debate two nights later could have been much more volatile, but Mahrree vowed that she would be the very model of poise and calm. She was sure to say nothing derogatory about the Administrators, which proved to be quite difficult, given the topic. She wondered if Rector Densal was trying to get her in trouble.
The topic was the mandates issued by Idumea over a year ago about herd and crop production. The administrators over agriculture and commerce sent out decrees detailing to each village what they were to produce and in what quantities. Many ranchers in Edge were upset that instead of raising cattle, they had to take on hogs and chickens as well. Some wheat farmers had to now plant more corn to feed those hogs, and some barley famers were forced to now grow wheat to compensate.
It was all confusing, pointless, and out of Mahrree’s realm of interest.
But she’d heard about the complaints in the market when the change occurred, and she spent the past two days interviewing families to find how to debate it without inflaming her suspicions about the Administrators.
Each family was quickly loyal to point out that it was only the administrators over agriculture and commerce they were frustrated with, but it didn’t work. The more Mahrree realized how controlling the Administrators had become, the fewer ways she could find around it. The only option she had was to be excessively sweet and fully in control of her emotions—not exactly her strengths as of late.
“You see, Captain Shin,” Mahrree said politely during the debate, “the concern was that Edge’s ranchers and farmers lost their ability to choose what they should grow. They feel their experience has been—unintentionally, of course—ignored.”
Interestingly, Captain Shin was also reserved in his observations, using such excessive diplomacy that he must have been borrowing some of the village’s supply.
“Understandable,” he said civilly, “and I’m sure they have a wealth of experience to share, which undoubtedly has made the markets here so thoroughly stocked, for which I commend Edge.”
“We thank you, sir,” she smiled kindly, “but we never had a problem with keeping the markets stocked. Perhaps other villages have struggled, and therefore welcomed the Administrators’ intrus—suggested mandates. But I’m afraid the question remains: why must Edge continue to conform when initially we were doing quite well?”
He nodded once. “Oh, I’m sure the Administrators haven’t meant to cause anyone in Edge to feel disrespect—”
“And I thank you for that assurance,” she nodded back.
“You’re welcome. You see, the Administrators have only the best interests—”
“Oh, COME ON!” interrupted a loud voice from the audience. “I’m actually sitting and LISTENING to this?! Thank you! You’re welcome! It’s more entertaining to treat my cows for teat infection!” And the young milkman began to act out the task with great exaggeration.
Yes, Mahrree thought as the audience howled with laughter, the captain had used up the village’s supply of tact.
Captain Shin’s ears turned red.
“Come ON, now!” the milkman called. “Less acting and MORE ACTION!”
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The chant was immediately picked up by the rest of the audience. “Less ACTING! More ACTION!”
Mahrree guffawed at the rowdiness of the villagers. She glanced over at the captain whose eyebrows were furrowed in surprise. Obviously Idumea had never dealt with heckling, but in Edge it was a proudly honed skill. And tonight, every last Edger was getting in some practice.
It was too much to continue the debate, and when Rector Densal held up his hands to call an end to the shouting, Mahrree was secretly relieved. The fake smile she kept on her face was causing her cheeks to cramp, and she didn’t know how much longer she could stand looking at the captain. When she saw none of his ugliness, he was quite . . . tolerable.
By the time their fourth debate came around a few evenings later, Mahrree was ready. Her success at the last outing gave her the confidence she needed to take on the captain. Plus, she would have fun defending her position, and she was going to turn the table on him.
She also considered that maybe she’d pushed him too far at the second debate. He was there to defend and represent the Administrators, and she accused them—and him, by association—as being as abhorrent as the kings. She could never get away with such naked incriminations in Idumea. It was only because the villagers knew her so well that the chief of enforcement hadn’t sent any of his men to arrest her for subversion, or sent a report to the Administrator of Loyalty.
At least, she assumed no reports had been sent, because no one in a red jacket had arrived in Edge.
She was just Mahrree Peto, spouting off yet again. Edge was used to her. Captain Shin, on the other hand, still had no idea who he was up against at the second debate, resulting in his violent outbursts. But his restrained demeanor at the third debate demonstrated that he was learning.
The setting sun on the evening of their fourth debate caused the sky to appear a pale green with bright yellow clouds near the horizon, and darker blue-gray clouds behind. But Mahrree’s focus allowed her to notice it only briefly when she strode to the amphitheater. She headed to the platform, first dropping off a large covered basket by Teeria and Sareen who flinched when they saw they would be guarding it. Hitty abandoned her friends and moved several rows back to sit with her parents.