The Forest at the Edge of the World

by Mercer, Trish

  “I recommend,” he said loudly over their noise, which rapidly quieted again, “that you now gather you things, your children, and make your ways home in large groups. The army will assist you as needed. I also recommend that you remember how to work the locks on your doors. Now is not a good time to become an easy target. Good night.” He shifted his stance just a little, and suddenly the audience rose up as one body and made a mad—but orderly—dash for the exits.

  Mahrree let the village stream past her so she could observe the captain as he watched the crowd with falcon-like alertness. It wasn’t until that evening that she realized just how duplicitous he could be, but in a good way. He was both intimidating and compassionate. Unapproachable, but concerned. A few people paused at the platform to call up words of thanks to him. He’d nod curtly, then offer half of a brief smile before scanning the area again. Mahrree could tell no one was quite sure how to react to the captain, who wasn’t there tonight to be the object of their teasing, but to be the preserver of their safety. And they were glad he was.

  Once Captain Shin was sure the villagers were well on their way home, he walked down the stairs in the front and over to his great aunt and uncle. Mahrree could only catch glimpses of the three of them in conversation as Edgers hurried past her. But suddenly both Tabbit and Hogal Densal looked over at Mahrree. Not sure what Perrin had said to them, she just smiled and waved hesitantly.

  That time, Perrin did wink at her, and put a hand on each of the Densals’ shoulders. She saw his lips form the words “We’ll be at your place in about ten minutes, then.”

  The Densals just stared at each other as the captain gently pushed his way through the thinning crowd to Mahrree, and then he—

  Well, she wasn’t sure why he did it. Maybe it was to appear to Edgers that he wasn’t an entirely terrifying authority figure, but also just a gentleman. Perhaps it was to give Edgers something else to think about rather than the fact that Guarders were indeed active again. Or maybe he thought Hycymum Peto wouldn’t be effective enough in the morning.

  But for whatever reason it was, he smiled at Mahrree, then offered her his arm.

  She raised her eyebrows at him in surprise, but happily linked her hand into the crook of his elbow, and allowed him to escort her out of the amphitheater, to the astonishment of everybody.

  ---

  Tuma Hifadhi, the old faded man, shuffled over to his front door and opened it.

  “Hew Gleace! What can I do for you?”

  The man in his fifties smiled at Tuma. “I have news that I thought you’d be interested in.”

  “About our captain?”

  Hew nodded. “A few mornings ago he walked into the forest!”

  Tuma’s eyebrows shot upwards.

  “Then he walked right back out again,” Hew said, disappointed.

  “Ah,” Tuma smiled, “but why did he enter the forest, Hew?”

  “It seemed he wanted to discover something, or prove something.”

  “Interesting, interesting. And why did he leave again?”

  “Pressure from his officers. They both escorted him back to the fort.”

  Tuma rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “In to discover something, out because of pressure.”

  He pondered for a moment.

  “Hew, increase the patrols above Edge. Keep a closer eye on this one. In to discover something,” he muttered as he turned around and shuffled back into his office. “In to discover.”

  ---

  “I think it’s safe to say the entire village knows,” Mahrree said to Perrin two nights later as they ate dinner. “I found these slipped under my door this afternoon.” She slid a few small notes across the table to him.

  He picked them up, made a face at the writing where each ‘i’ was dotted with a flower, and said, “One of your students? She has interesting ideas for debate topics, doesn’t she. Baby names? People debate about that?”

  “I don’t know. Never had that experience. They were from Sareen, I’m sure. I heard giggling by the door moments before I heard the knock.”

  Perrin put down the slips. “I think your evaluation is correct. I’ve been getting looks from everyone in the village and the fort. You know, the look?” He smirked and made his eyes large, accentuated with raised eyebrows.

  Mahrree laughed. “Yes, I know that look! I received quite a bit of it at the market this morning.”

  “Your mother is a most efficient . . . news-spreader,” Perrin decided.

  “We call them gossips. And they all visit Edge’s Inn when my mother’s working.”

  “I was trying to be diplomatic.”

  “Well done,” Mahrree nodded in approval. “But I think you walking me out of the amphitheater the other night in front of nearly the entire village may have contributed to chatter.”

  “Well, the news had to get started somehow,” he said dismissively as if he just did her a tremendous favor but really didn’t need so much thanks.

  Mahrree rolled her eyes. “So is the gossip why you snuck in the back door today?”

  Perrin shrugged. “Just a slighter faster way to get to your house.”

  “So you’re not taking the back alleys just to avoid my neighbors? Because you realize they’ll soon be your neighbors.”

  “I suppose we can be seen together in other places, too,” he said.

  “Well, we can’t avoid it forever. They’ll be making faces at us for just a few days, then the novelty will wear off. Edgers are skilled at finding new targets. Everyone already knows I adore you—I’m sure my mother has made that clear.”

  He grinned. “And I guess I should admit that my soldiers have been giving me subtle smiles. Guess I can’t blame that on your mother.”

  Mahrree laughed. “You might! She has connections everywhere. She’s a good resource. You may have to start talking to her just to know what’s going on in the village.”

  “I’ll try,” he said bravely.

  “I’m going over to her home tomorrow to learn how to . . . um, cook,” she confessed. “You could come over after your shift. To my mother’s.”

  “Is that really necessary?” he squinted, not too diplomatically.

  “You want to risk eating blob? She’s going to teach me how to make bool-yon and dim-sun and jel-a-ton.”

  He squinted more severely. “What are those?”

  She shrugged. “Not sure myself. I never eat at the Inn. I can’t understand her menu. Please?”

  “Of course,” he smiled when he saw her sincere worry.

  “Thanks. And since I spent the morning learning more about your family, it’s only fitting you spend an evening getting to know mine.”

  “Of course,” he repeated off-handedly, picking up a chicken leg. He stopped. “Wait. What?”

  “I had visitors this morning for a couple of hours,” she said as she slowly buttered a slice of bread. “Does the name ‘Auntie Tabbit’ sound familiar?”

  “But,” he blinked rapidly, “we told Hogal and Tabbit everything after the announcement at the amphitheater! What more could there be to discuss?”

  “Oh, there’s lots to tell about the most—how did Auntie Tabbit phrase it?—‘the most adorable little boy with the biggest brown eyes ever to be seen.’” Mahrree batted her eyelashes at him.

  “Oh no,” he whispered.

  She laughed again. “It wasn’t that bad!”

  He rubbed his forehead. “Understand, they never had children. I was the closest thing they had. Kind of their grandson, I guess, especially after my mother’s parents died. I only saw them a few times when I was younger and they travelled to the forts where my father was posted. Whatever they said, please realize that—”

  But Mahrree was still laughing. “They just told me how sweet you were when you were little, that’s all. Goodness, you look like you’re afraid they revealed some horrible secrets about you!”

  He watched her intently. “It’s just . . . you know . . . never quite sure how others will remember incidents from
your past.”

  “Maybe I need to ask them for more details?”

  “That’s not necessary,” he assured. “So what else did they talk about?”

  “Actually, I heard a few more interesting things about your parents,” she said with a deliberate look.

  He paled. “Oh no.”

  “Relax, will you? I feel a bit better now. Tabbit obviously loves her niece. She went on and on about Joriana this, and Joriana that. But I must admit, it sounds as if she’s a bit more sophisticated than anything in Edge,” she hinted.

  Perrin nodded. “I told you that. Sort of. But don’t worry, she’s great. She’ll love you.”

  “Hmm,” Mahrree said, unconvinced. “Tabbit said that too, but we’ll see.”

  “So, did Tabbit or Hogal say anything about my father?”

  Mahrree nodded gravely. “Your father wants to be buried standing up and at attention when he dies.”

  Perrin snorted.

  “According to Hogal,” Mahrree clarified.

  Perrin laughed. “That sounds like Hogal. He and my father . . . well, Father doesn’t read The Writings as often as Hogal thinks he should, and Hogal is too narrow-minded to give Father any really good advice. That’s pretty much how every conversation between them goes.”

  She cringed. “Should be an interesting wedding ceremony.”

  “Don’t worry—they’re more civil than they used to be. Now it’s just a thing the two of them go through. Neither really agrees with the other, but they respect each other, and for that I admire them both.”

  Mahrree bit her lower lip.

  “My parents are great, really.” Perrin nodded and took a bite of his chicken to avoid discussing the matter further.

  ---

  The professor lecturing in basic command tactics stumbled over his words as he saw the door to the classroom unexpectedly open. Each of the first year command students looked over at the door and sucked in his breath.

  “Don’t mind me,” the white-haired man in the red coat smiled amiably. “Just had a few minutes, was feeling nostalgic, and I decided to sit in again on some of my favorite classes. See what’s changed in the few years since I’ve taught here. Please, go on.”

  The professor paled, looked back down at his notes to see where he was, and began haltingly, trying to ignore that Chairman Nicko Mal was taking an empty seat on the side of the room.

  Slowly the faces of his students, the future officers of the Army of Idumea, turned back to the professor and dutifully began to take notes.

  Chairman Mal continued to wear his thin smile and nodded at points the professor made about planning and preparation. When the class ended, mercifully only five minutes after the Chairman arrived, the young men stood at attention, saluted their professor as he exited, then gathered their books while keeping the Chairman in their peripheral vision.

  He was watching one new student, a young man who entered in mid-term, but had caught up to be on track with the rest of them. As the soldiers filed out of the room, Mal gestured to the remaining young man who would shape up into a useful dog, with the proper training.

  “Lieutenant Heth, the uniform suits you. You look much better than you did several weeks ago in my office.”

  “Thank you, sir,” the former Sonoforen began. “I appreciate the effort you—”

  Mal held up his hand to stop him. “Don’t be sloppy!” he hissed in quiet warning.

  Heth paled and nodded. “Yes, sir. What can I do for you, sir?”

  Mal stood up and clasped his hands behind his back. “Just checking on my future officers. Like to step in every now and then, question a few here and there. Make them know what I expect of them, that you’re going to be up to the challenge.”

  Heth straightened up even more. “I assure you, Chairman, that I am up to any challenge you may issue.”

  Mal nodded. “Very good, Lieutenant. In about two years, once you’ve completed your education which is being provided for you at an extraordinary cost—which I’m sure I don’t have to remind you—I shall have some exceptional challenges for you. Until then, know that I will frequently check on you, as I check on all my special cases.”

  Heth’s eyebrows furrowed, either at the news that he could expect future visits, or that he wasn’t the only one. “Yes, sir.”

  “Any news on your brother’s whereabouts?” Mal whispered.

  “None, sir.”

  Mal nodded once. “You have another class to attend, soldier. Best not be late.”

  Heth saluted, grabbed his books, and headed out the door to his next class.

  Mal waited in the classroom for the next batch of students. Just a few moments later several young men filed in, each hesitating at the door as he recognized the Chairman. One young man stopped completely, then cleared his throat and nodded almost imperceptibly to Mal.

  The Chairman nodded back, smiled that the message was received so quickly by the smarter dog, and left the room, much to the relief of the professor that was about to enter it.

  ---

  Lieutenant Heth enjoyed stretching his legs and taking in the sights of Idumea. He allowed himself a break since he was ahead of schedule in command school—because of a “tutor” and a few pages of test answers. With the right papers signed by the right people with the right extensions of the truth, even a failed assassin could find himself with a new name, history, years of enlisted army service, and the honor of the pre-commission title of lieutenant for his “exemplary past work.”

  He loved Idumea, where reality never interfered with one’s ambitions.

  He strode around the grand city purposely taking the long route to make sure no one could discern his final destination. With his cap pulled down, he walked casually up to the grand gates of the place he used to call home.

  Two other soldiers, dressed just like him, manned the gates but made no motion to open them for him.

  Eight years ago they would have given “the Little King” anything he wanted. No one outside the mansion called him that, though, because he wasn’t legitimate. His mother said it was because she wasn’t in any hurry to marry Oren.

  Then one night when he was seventeen, his mother roused him and his thirteen year-old brother from their sleep, told them to pack lightly, and whisked them away to her aunt’s house in Scrub. She said everything was their stupid, senseless father’s fault. But he loved his father. Sure, he was a little slow, but that wasn’t enough reason to kill him, was it?

  Lieutenant Heth walked slowly past the mansion’s entrance remembering how he and his brother used to shoot arrows at each other in the long grand hall. Dormin was far sneakier than any boy should be and was never hit. But if they met in that hallway now, Heth would pierce his traitorous brother in the heart. His skills with the bow were improving every day.

  Heth stopped past the gates and sighed, looking up through the iron bars at the two-story stone mansion where the High Traitor now lived.

  He didn’t deserve those bedrooms or that grand staircase where Heth had frequently taken the mattresses from the maids’ rooms and slid down the stairs.

  He killed his father and didn’t care that his mother died poor and bitter in Scrub.

  He poisoned his brother into believing the lies the rest of the world told about their father and family. Dormin was the most devoted idiot High General Shin didn’t even know he had.

  As Heth looked longingly at the tall chimneys rising out of the mansion, he remembered the last conversation with his brother.

  “You’ve got it all wrong, Sonoforen,” Dormin had tried to tell him after they buried their mother more than eight moons ago. They walked through the burial grounds, alone, back to the small house where their aunt had let them stay.

  “Our father really was useless. I’ve read all the books, talked to some who served under him. He was just a stupid man, completely ill-equipped to lead anything more than a goat to a pasture.”

  “How dare you!” Sonoforen had exclaimed. “He was our fathe
r! The fifth in the line of great leaders!”

  Dormin sighed and scratched his head. “You sounded a lot like Great Grandmother there. And she wasn’t just occasionally scary, she was downright evil. Have you heard of the killing squads? They were her idea, Sonoforen! Honestly, I’m glad we’re out of there. The only thing I wish now was that I didn’t look so much like them. You’re lucky you got Mother’s face. But me? I’ll never be able to go near Idumea. Too many people still remember what they looked like.”

  Heth had stared at his brother who was broader shouldered and a bit taller than him, much like their father, with similar straw-colored hair and gravel-pale skin. “What have they done to you? Who’s poisoned your mind?”

  Dormin smiled sadly. “Every history book in the world. You should try reading some time. It’s a very humbling pursuit. Next I’m going to crack open The Writings. For as much as Great Grandmother hated them, I simply must know what’s in there.”

  “I’ll never understand you.” Heth shook his head. “You sound like you don’t even miss the life we had.”

  “I don’t!” Dormin exclaimed. “Not after I discovered what our comfort did to the rest of the world. Sonoforen, if I could fix any of that, I would. And we should. It’s our responsibility to reverse all that—”

  “I’m planning on it!” Heth had promised darkly.

  “Really? How?”

  Heth didn’t answer him, knowing his brother would only punch holes into his idea.

  “Oh . . . no. No, you can’t be serious.”

  “I didn’t say anything,” Heth said.

  “But I know you. When my dog attacked your cat, you killed my dog,” Dormin said bitterly.

  “No one but you would have ever called that animal a dog,” Heth said steadily. “More like a deformed rat. It deserved to die.”

  Dormin took a couple steps away from him. “Yes Sonoforen, you’re definitely the offspring of our great grandparents. You’re going to do something you think is noble, then justify it in some easy way. Going to try to kill Chairman Mal or someone?”