The Forest at the Edge of the World

by Mercer, Trish

  He paused. “Mahrree,” he eventually whispered, “my father is trying very hard to keep civility in our world. For me to express to you anything he suggests would—”

  He hesitated again.

  “He’s the High General, Mahrree. There are certain things that must be kept in confidence—”

  “Do you trust me, Perrin?”

  “Of course.”

  “With everything? Because I can’t go into a marriage knowing you’re keeping secrets from me. Important secrets. I don’t believe in that.”

  He pursed his lips as he considered, and she was so tempted to kiss him that she did.

  He chuckled as she pulled away.

  “You have a point,” he said. “And incredible influence over me, but don’t let anyone know that. All right . . . I understand your feelings about secrets. But you also must understand my position in the army. How do you feel about hints?”

  “Hints?” she said, suspicious.

  “These are negotiations, Mahrree,” he reminded her. “One side gives a little, then the other side gives a little. You need to meet me halfway on this.”

  “Are hints all that I might get?”

  “It’s to protect you, Mahrree, not aggravate you.” He became startlingly sober. “If you know too much, you’re vulnerable. I already love you too much to put you in danger. Can you accept that?”

  She was so thrilled with the way he readily confessed, “I already love you too much,” that for a moment she didn’t register the rest of his sentence. Her startled mind caught up a few seconds later.

  “Danger? All right. I guess I can accept that.”

  Perrin nodded once. “He sends me weather reports.”

  Mahrree squinted at the odd sentence. “Uhh . . .”

  He smiled. “Specifically, the color of the sky.”

  “Really?” she beamed. “I think I like your father already.”

  “Good, because not a lot of people do. The citizens still have the wrong impressions about the army. My grandfather Pere was a remarkable man,” he said with genuine admiration. “He cleaned house when he took over as High General, and even reined in some of the tendencies of Querul the Third’s very threatening widow. But that family worried that the world would embrace the army more than they appreciated the kings’ leadership. So they spread rumors. Despite my grandfather’s efforts, and now my father’s, the army is still seen as something to be feared. But Mahrree, I promise you—danger does not come from the army,” he said meaningfully. “And while they all respect him, very few people appreciate my father, especially a particular former professor.”

  “Ah,” Mahrree said, understanding his allegations. “Wasn’t he your professor as well?”

  Perrin nodded. “He doesn’t have the best of feelings towards me, either. You know how I love to debate? When I was younger, I wasn’t as disciplined as I am now—”

  “You think you’re disciplined now?” she teased.

  He laughed. “More than I was! As a twenty-one-year-old . . . well, let’s just say I was well-known, and not in the best of ways. Nicko Mal doesn’t believe in debating, only in shutting down and humiliating. Well, I don’t believe in being shut down or humiliated, as you’ve discovered. It was not the best of combinations, but the class was never boring. Mal and I bickered about so many aspects of human-animal behavior . . .”

  He paused again.

  “I’m not proud of that. I was arrogant and high-minded. The problem was that Mal was too, but even more intensely. Sometimes nothing happened all class hour except for us conducting a shouting match while the rest of the class watched the entertainment. I don’t know why I let him get under my skin so frequently. And the worst part is, I tried to use The Writings against him.”

  “Against him?”

  He shrugged guiltily. “I had just been studying them, and at times I was filled with righteous pride for all I thought I knew. Guess what: ‘righteous’ and ‘pride’ don’t go together. I’d throw phrases from The Writings at Mal as if they were balls of mud, leaving both of us filthy. It took me a few years to realize The Writings aren’t meant to be used as a vengeful weapon, but as a guiding tool. The Creator isn’t trying to punish us; He’s trying to warn us. But I wasn’t mature enough to understand that seven years ago. So I’d counter every comment and argument Mal made by quoting some passage at him, with a tone that removed all tenderness and replaced it with malice.”

  “I think you’re being a little hard on yourself.” She patted his firm chest, and he didn’t seem to mind that her hand remained there. “I’m sure he realized you were immature. I know I’ve said some things I’ve regretted when provoked in just the right way—”

  He smiled faintly. “Sorry about that.”

  “And Nicko Mal is a mature man, right?”

  He pondered. “Interesting question. Supposedly he is, but you know I’ve often wondered, why did he let me so annoy him? He truly hated me. I could see it in his eyes. Even just last year when I ran into him—”

  His hand that wasn’t around Mahrree suddenly clapped on his leg to signal an end to that memory.

  “Well, all of that was long ago. We’ve both moved on, I’m sure. It’s just that . . .” he struggled to find the most diplomatic way to say it. “Chairman Mal’s not entirely forthcoming about everything.”

  “I see,” Mahrree said slowly. “That was vague enough to be misunderstood, but clear enough that I get the idea. When was the last time you received a weather report from your father?”

  “Right before our first debate. He wrote, ‘Children of Idumea know the sky is blue, thanks to improvements suggested by our Administrators.’”

  “Clever. Should anyone else happen to read that, they’ll not hear the sarcastic tone with which it was undoubtedly penned.”

  “And my father is the master of the sarcastic tone,” Perrin acknowledged.

  Mahrree laughed. “Now I understand more of why you accepted the ‘color of the sky’ debate.”

  Perrin turned a little pink, much to Mahrree’s surprise.

  “The moment I saw you, I thought to myself, ‘This just might be a woman worth getting to know.’ Then I cursed Hogal for making me think I was about to debate the village spinster!” He chuckled. “But I needed to know how you thought and felt. That night you argued everything precisely in line with my own beliefs. A woman who claimed that the sky wasn’t even blue, but inherently black? Well, some part of me knew right then I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, and I believe I cursed Hogal a second time for his setting me up like that.”

  He pursed his lips as he remembered.

  Again Mahrree couldn’t help herself, planting a kiss there which Perrin heartily accepted. She pulled away just inches from his face.

  “We’ll have to tell Hogal that we forgive him,” she whispered.

  “I think asking him to perform the ceremony might accomplish that,” he whispered back. “There will be a ceremony, right?”

  She grinned. “Negotiations seem to be leaning towards that end, don’t they?”

  He kissed her again in answer.

  ---

  After two hours of exhaustive discussion, covering what they figured to be at least three moons’ worth of courting information, Perrin and Mahrree left out the back door again, and Mahrree locked it without his prompting. Hogal had told Perrin when the performance at the amphitheater would be ending, and the captain of the fort needed to make an announcement while the villagers were still there.

  The plan was for Perrin to go to the fort, change back into his uniform, then take a horse to the amphitheater in time for the announcement. Mahrree would meet him there, and would, in the meantime, walk to the center of the village.

  Alone.

  That was what bothered Perrin as he stood on her back porch. “It’s just not a good idea, Mahrree. Alone?”

  “As I’ve done for years,” she reminded him.

  “But it’s already dark!” He gestured to the obvious e
vidence.

  “I know. But you’ve trained your soldiers for this, right? Already they’re patrolling the village. Look. Two more, right there on the main road.”

  At that, Perrin stepped back to her back porch and out of all possible view of his soldiers.

  Mahrree snorted. “Someday they’re going to find out about us.”

  He took her by the shoulders and pulled her close to him. “I suppose they are.” He chuckled and kissed her. “And I suppose they should know something right now.”

  Abruptly he stepped off the porch, pulling her along by her arm. He walked so fast to the back alley and over to the main road that Mahrree had to trot to keep up with him.

  “Privates!” Perrin bellowed at the soldiers walking away from them.

  Obviously startled, the two young men jumped, spun, and faced their commander. The swords strapped to their sides caught up a moment later, slapping awkwardly against their legs. Remarkably, the soldiers didn’t wince but saluted smartly.

  Well, one started to wince, likely thinking the dark night hid his pained expression. But the torch he carried gave him away.

  Mahrree stifled a chuckle and Perrin grumbled quietly as they neared. “All right, I’m still training many of them,” he whispered to Mahrree. “Clumsy things.” In a louder voice he said, “Men, I need you to escort Miss Peto to the amphitheater. As I’m sure you’re aware, this isn’t a time for anyone to be walking unattended.”

  “Of course, sir!” one of the young men answered briskly.

  Oddly, Mahrree felt like laughing. Seeing the slightly-terrified-but-completely-obedient response of the soldiers to her future husband was rather impressive. For some reason it hadn’t occurred to her that men in blue uniforms would snap to attention in his presence. Maybe because she didn’t. It struck her as rather comical, in a daunting sort of way.

  Fifteen minutes later Mahrree arrived safely and successfully at the amphitheater. She was not successful, however, in engaging the soldiers—large boys of not yet twenty years old—in any kind of conversation. They just marched stoically on either side of her answering her questions in the briefest of ways, and she tried to remind herself she wasn’t their prisoner on the way to visit the Administrator of Loyalty.

  They followed her to the back entrance of the amphitheater. She stopped at one of the sets of stairs that led up to the platform. There, she dismissed them.

  Or tried to.

  “As you can see, I’m here now so . . . shoo. Off with you. Well done, privates.”

  They tipped her caps to her, but didn’t move. “We’re to remain here, ma’am. Captain’s orders. He wanted to introduce many of us tonight to the villagers.”

  Mahrree glanced around and saw that many more pairs of soldiers were coming to the amphitheater, also carrying torches. There must have been over seventy of them, and she understood why. Edgers would be understandably nervous to hear that Grasses had been attacked. When they left the amphitheater, seeing dozens of soldiers ready and waiting to help them home—even lighting the way—would be most comforting.

  Mahrree smiled. She was marrying a most clever man. And thinking of clever men—

  She heard the horse trotting towards her in the darkness before she saw it. The gray beast came all the way to the back entrance, and was reined to a stop by Captain Shin. She couldn’t help but grin at him in his full uniform, with his sword strapped securely to his side. Yes, he would protect Edge.

  But he only tipped his cap in formal response to her.

  “Miss Peto. Glad to see you arrived safely,” he said as he got off the horse and handed the reins to one of Mahrree’s soldiers.

  Mahrree immediately erased her goofy grin and adopted an equally reserved demeanor. “Yes, thank you, Captain. Your men did quite well.”

  Keeping their intentions to marry secret for just one more day was difficult. No wonder her mother wailed in grief when they told her to not spread the gossip until after tonight’s announcement. Even Hycymum didn’t know what was coming, but she was in the audience, eagerly waiting.

  Captain Shin nodded briefly to Mahrree, then surveyed his assembled soldiers. “As I instructed, post yourselves at the exits,” he told them. “We’ll be escorting as many we need to, for however long we need to, tonight. Win their hearts and minds, men. If Edgers don’t trust us, we’ve already lost the battle.”

  As the soldiers dispersed, except for a dozen assigned to that exit, Captain Shin glanced back at Mahrree and winked at her.

  She covered her mouth with her hand to avoid smiling in front of the remaining soldiers. Captain Shin wasn’t making this any easier.

  A roar of laughter, then loud applause came from the platform beyond, and drifted down to those waiting behind it.

  “I’ve seen this play before,” Mahrree told Captain Shin and the soldiers. “By the laughter, I can tell it’s the final scene, and should be over in just a couple of minutes. You best get into position, Captain.”

  “Thank you, Miss Peto,” he said stiffly, then walked to the stairs and waited for his cue from Rector Densal.

  Mahrree slipped around to the front of the platform and subtly took a spot at the end of a nearly-full bench. The villagers were too involved enjoying the last scene to notice her arrival, and when the actors left the platform, all of the audience stood to applaud.

  Rector Densal quickly made his way to the platform and held up his hands. “Thank you for your attendance this evening!” he called as loudly as he could. “Please—we have one more item tonight. If you would all just sit back down. Five minutes, that’s all—”

  His voice was drowned out in the crowd’s noise of gathering up blankets, children, and bags, and jostling to be the first to get out.

  Mahrree rung her hands worriedly in her lap, until she saw Captain Shin stride onto the platform and march right up to the edge of it. The movement caused a few people to stop and look up.

  “Hey, it’s Captain Shin! Back for more punishing debates?” someone called loudly.

  “What, wanting more humiliation, Captain?” cried out another voice.

  The evening’s performance had left Edgers in a particularly jolly and stupidly brave mood, Mahrree thought sadly.

  But all that was about to change.

  Captain Shin just stood solidly at the front of the platform. Large. Forbidding. And intriguing. More Edgers were stopping their movements to watch him for any.

  All he did was nod once to his great uncle, who made his way back down the stairs. Then the commander of the fort repositioned himself with his feet slightly apart, with his hands behind his back, and with a fixed glare on the crowd of nearly five thousand.

  Mahrree felt goose bumps rise on her arms as she watched her future husband, stern and imposing, make men more than twice his age suddenly feel the need to sit down and hold very still. Within seconds, the entire audience was silently taking their seats again.

  Incredible, Mahrree thought. He may not ever want to be a general, but he certainly carried the blood and bearing of generals.

  Then again, Mahrree realized, she’d never met a general before, so she wasn’t sure exactly how one would convey himself.

  But Edgers hadn’t either, and they were fascinated by the officer standing in front of them waiting for them to come to order as if they were a classroom of disruptive teenagers.

  As the amphitheater hushed to silent anticipation, Captain Shin stood stock still for yet another agonizing ten seconds. Mahrree almost chuckled. Classic debating tactic—work the crowd, get them begging for you to say something, anything. She’d have to keep a close eye on this one, she thought smugly to herself.

  “Villagers of Edge!” Captain Shin’s deep voice finally boomed to the crowd.

  Everyone shrunk just a little smaller on their benches.

  “I am here to inform you that the night before last, the village of Grasses experienced an attack by Guarders.”

  The gasp wasn’t just audible, but tangible.

  Yo
u should be scared, Mahrree thought in satisfaction. And grateful my future husband is here.

  She had to stop thinking things like that. It made her want to smile, and that was rather inappropriate right now.

  Captain Shin waited for the hushed murmurs to quiet before he continued. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a piece of parchment.

  “A short time ago I received this update from the colonel commanding the fort in Grasses. The Guarders were, unfortunately, very effective in reaching into the very center of Grasses. In total fourteen houses were hit, thirteen citizens and soldiers lost their lives, and more than thirty were injured.”

  Not one Edger said a word. All of their mouths were hanging open far too wide.

  Mahrree just sighed. Perrin already shared those numbers with her, but they still sounded so awful. She couldn’t remember an attack in the past thirty years that caused so much damage in one place.

  “You may be comforted to know that nine Guarders were also killed, by the Army of Idumea,” Captain Shin continued, sounding both terrifying and consoling. “Members of that same army are now standing outside this amphitheater with torches ready. Should you feel the need to be accompanied by a couple of strong soldiers armed with swords and long knives, please feel free to take my men home with you, with my compliments.” He smiled ever so slightly.

  The audience ate that up, breaking into grins far broader than they should be for such a subtle touch of humor. But they were eager for any kind of break to the instant gloom that overshadowed them.

  “You will also notice that, effective immediately, the Army of Idumea will be patrolling your roads and alleys to keep you safe and the Guarders in the forests—where they belong.”

  Mahrree didn’t expect the crowd to break out into applause, but they did, even adding a few cheers and whoops. Perhaps they didn’t know what kind of response was appropriate, Mahrree considered, so they tried a little bit of everything.

  Captain Shin’s eyes wandered over the grateful crowd, stopping briefly when he met Mahrree’s. She winked at him in encouragement. He did nothing but look at her intently for just a moment longer, then turned his attention back to the villagers.