Soldier at the Door (Forest at the Edge)

by Mercer, Trish

  The private took another drink from the spring, wiped his hands on his trousers, then walked back to the fort.

  ---

  “I should be able to figure this out!” Mahrree groaned, but no one would’ve heard her over the wails of her son in the baby sling strapped to her front. She bent over carefully so as to not disturb him further—as if the infant could have been more irritable—and grumbled as she picked up the small new potatoes that rolled on the ground.

  Jaytsy had just thrown them, again, from the miniature wagon she was riding in.

  “I’ve been a mother to two small children for three moons. You think I should know what I’m doing by now!”

  By the glares she was receiving in the market, others were thinking the same thing.

  But she couldn’t figure it out. When was the right time to go to the market when both children were never content at the same time? When Peto was happy with a full belly, Jaytsy was growing fussy and wanted a nap. When Peto was ready for a nap, Jaytsy was waking up and ready to go for a walk or a ride in the small wagon her father made.

  Mahrree could never get the timing right, and she tried a different time every week. Once both children were happy at the same time, but then two days later at the same time of day they were both wailing at the top of their lungs while she tried to haggle over the price of carrots. She was ready to shove one into each crying mouth to see if that would quiet them until she finished at the butcher’s.

  Today she tried going to the market right before Peto’s nap time, hoping he’d be lulled to sleep as Mahrree walked, but once again her plan failed. He was grumpier than ever, and now, moments ago, Jaytsy learned to throw.

  Mahrree was gathering the last of the rolling potatoes when she looked up to see Jaytsy holding a small red projectile in each chubby fist. She cocked her right arm and let fly another potato.

  “No!” Mahrree moaned, but Jaytsy beamed proudly. Mahrree watched as the little potato flew in the opposite direction and landed in the hand of someone wearing a blue uniform.

  “That’s a great arm!” the catcher said encouragingly. “Try the other one now.”

  Mahrree’s mouth dropped open as Jaytsy smiled at the stranger and threw her other potato. Its trajectory wasn’t as impressive, but the young soldier stepped up quickly and caught it before it hit the ground.

  “She must be right-armed,” he chuckled.

  Mahrree still didn’t know how to respond to this soldier encouraging her daughter to throw food.

  “Any more potatoes for me?” he grinned at Jaytsy. She began to look around the wagon, but Mahrree already had the rest in her cotton bag. “Then I’ll give these to your mother,” he said, walking over to Mahrree.

  “Uh, thank you,” she said, surprised as she opened the bag to let him drop in the potatoes. The soldier didn’t even seem to notice Peto’s wailing.

  “Any time, ma’am,” he tipped his cap. “I’m rather an expert at cleaning up thrown food messes. Was a bit of a rambunctious child myself. You’re Mrs. Shin, aren’t you?”

  “Uh, yes—yes I am.” She evaluated the handsome face that smiled at her. His light brown hair was nearly the same color as hers, and he had big happy sky-blue eyes. Mahrree wondered how old he might be. His looks seemed too boyish to be a soldier, yet his build was surprisingly large and strong. Not as big as Perrin, but then again, no one was as big as Perrin.

  He tipped his cap again. “I’m Private Shem Zenos, ma’am. Just signed up officially with your husband earlier this week.”

  Mahrree smiled. “That’s right!” She lowered her voice, although it wasn’t necessary because no one in the market around them would have heard her over Peto’s continued crying. “You were volunteering for him before. You’re the one who’s spoken to the Guarder!”

  Zenos was surprised. “Uh, yes, ma’am.” He leaned in closer to her. “I didn’t realize you knew about that.”

  Mahrree shrugged. “I’m probably not like the typical officer’s wife, and I’m very intrigued about Guarders.”

  Zenos looked around quickly, clearly uncomfortable to be discussing Guarders in the market. “How about I help you get home, ma’am? I can pull your daughter in the wagon while you calm down your son.”

  Mahrree was tempted. As much as she wanted him to walk her home so she could ask him some questions, it was far beyond his responsibility as a soldier. “I appreciate that, but it’s not fair of me to ask that of you.”

  Zenos grinned, and it was almost dazzling. “You didn’t ask it—I offered it!” He bent down and picked up the tongue of the miniature wagon, then took the bag of potatoes out of her hand. Before Mahrree could protest he started pulling Jaytsy along.

  “But Private—”

  “But nothing!” he smiled back to her. “I insist on helping you home.”

  “But you’re doing a terrible job of it,” she told him. “I don’t live east, I live north!”

  The private stopped suddenly, blushed, and gestured for her to lead the way.

  Mahrree chuckled and pointed in the correct direction. She took Peto out of the sling and tried holding him in another position. He arched his back uncooperatively.

  The private winced in sympathy as he walked alongside, pulling the wagon. “He looks hungry.”

  Mahrree glanced at him. “And you know this because . . .?”

  He shrugged. “Because he’s a boy, and boys are always hungry?”

  Mahrree nodded. “I’ll believe that.” She turned Peto so he faced away from her, and instantly he stopped wailing. “Or maybe he wanted to see where he’s going.” She smiled in relief that her ears now had a break.

  The soldier nodded back. “Not much fun never knowing where you’re going, is it?”

  Mahrree glanced around her to make sure no one was near. They had left the market and were now heading north along the neighborhoods. “Now that he’s quiet, Private, can I ask you some questions?”

  Private Zenos blinked. “I suppose so, ma’am.”

  “I want someone else’s opinion. Tell me about Guarders,” she whispered the last word.

  Zenos pursed his lips. “Tell you about Guarders? What do you want to know?”

  “Do you think all the stories about them are true?”

  “Stories?”

  “Yes, stories. My husband’s reluctant to share much with me, probably because I tend to go off a bit at times,” she admitted, “But there are always stories. So are they true?”

  “Which stories?”

  Mahrree grumbled. “How long has my husband been training you?”

  “Ma’am?” he looked at her.

  “Training you to evade questioning by answering every question with another question!”

  Private Zenos smiled bashfully, likely understanding what Mahrree meant by “go off a bit.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t realize I was doing that. Try again. I’ll see if I can give you a better answer.”

  “All right then,” Mahrree said. “How fearsome are Guarders, Private?”

  Zenos thought for a moment. “I’ve only spoken with one, ma’am, and he’s not too fearsome. He’s a little strange, to tell you the truth.”

  Mahrree sighed. “I already know that. Captain Shin told me several weeks ago about some of the odd things he told you.”

  Zenos nodded. “Although I think planting corn in small hills with a piece of fish, instead of in rows, is worth trying.”

  “Corn?” Mahrree asked. “I didn’t hear about corn. Or fish.”

  Zenos just shrugged.

  “I guess what I really want to know is,” Mahrree said in a low voice, “can they be negotiated with?”

  He gave her an odd look. “Negotiated with?”

  Mahrree glared at him for his inadequate answer again.

  “Sorry, ma’am.” He cleared his throat. “It’s been my experience you can negotiate with anyone, if you offer the right enticements.”

  “But that’s the key, isn’t it, Private?” she
groused. “Knowing what to offer so your opponent capitulates to your will? But if you know nothing of your opponent, what do you entice them with? Negotiations are useless, then!”

  Zenos smiled and looked at her askance. “Yes, you definitely know more than the average officer’s wife.”

  She didn’t notice him looking at her. “I’ve had to negotiate with my husband on numerous occasions,” she murmured. “So how do we find out what they want?” she wondered, forgetting to keep her voice low. “I mean, it’s too late for me, but not for others—”

  Zenos squinted, trying to understand what she meant by that.

  “—if we can only make it through their lands . . .” She paused, biting her lower lip in thought.

  Zenos glanced at her waiting for her to finish her sentence so he could figure out what she might be talking about it. He was going to be disappointed.

  When she continued again she had already jumped ahead. “So how do we negotiate with Guarders?!”

  Zenos shook his head and shrugged. “I suppose that’s what I’m for, ma’am. I’m trying to learn what I can. We have that lost one I’ve been feeding from time to time. It seems they usually work in pairs, but this one lost his companion and is pretty erratic. Sometimes he’s gone for weeks, then he’s back again for several days.”

  “So what else has he told you?” Mahrree whispered earnestly.

  He cleared his throat again. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I don’t think I’m allowed to tell you. If your husband won’t tell you, then—”

  Mahrree kicked a stone in irritation. “So you have learned something interesting, haven’t you?!”

  Zenos exhaled. “I . . . I don’t really know what would qualify as interesting—”

  “Come on,” she whispered. “Tell me why they’re here! What do they want from Edge? From the world? What would make them leave the forests?”

  Zenos looked over at her again, this time a little alarmed at her intensity. “Ma’am, um, I really don’t know . . . yet. But I’m working on it.”

  “Well, you better be!” she said firmly. She looked over at him and noticed he was grinning again. “What?”

  “You . . . you’re just not anything like I imagined you would be. Ma’am,” he remembered to add.

  Mahrree furrowed her brows. “And what did you imagine me to be?”

  He blushed. “Uh, I guess like all the other women around here.”

  “Hmm.” Mahrree thought about his evaluation. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  He chuckled. “That’s what it was meant to be!”

  Mahrree gestured to turn at the next road. “My house is the second one on the left there. The one without a proper garden.”

  Zenos nodded. “Now who decides what’s a ‘proper’ garden?”

  “It’s about time you gave a good response, soldier—my thoughts exactly! I’ll forgive you that you phrased it as a question again, though. But you’re right—it’s proper to me. But it’s not proper to my mother,” she added.

  They walked across the road and Mahrree opened the low gate for the private.

  “I thank you for your help,” she smiled as he pulled the wagon into the front yard. “And I’m sure my neighbors and everyone else at the market who’ve heard enough of my wailing babies also thank you.”

  She expected him to tip his cap and leave her, but he didn’t. Instead he lifted Jaytsy carefully out of the wagon and set her down.

  “I can stay and watch your daughter while you feed your son, ma’am. I’m off duty right now, and you have enough rocks in your ‘proper’ garden that I can teach her how to ‘properly’ throw them,” he suggested.

  Mahrree bit her lip. Another tempting offer. Usually Jaytsy emptied the lower levels of the bookshelves while Mahrree put Peto to sleep.

  But she felt odd about letting a soldier watch her little girl.

  Then again, Perrin did say he was impressed with him. That’s why he was so pleased when Zenos signed a two-year commitment. Maybe she could trust this sweet-faced young man who was now watching her little girl pick up small stones.

  Jaytsy started to put one in her mouth, and the private quickly stopped her and showed her how to throw it instead. She giggled when it bounced on the ground.

  There had never been another soldier who had ever offered to help. In fact, every other soldier she’d encountered took one look at the children and sidled away; even Yip, who ran the fastest and was appointed to be Perrin’s messenger to the family. The soldiers were probably worried someone small would drool on their uniforms.

  Private Zenos crouched and handed pebble after pebble to Jaytsy, grinning at her in genuine pleasure. Mahrree couldn’t remember the last time she had ever seen a young man enjoy a baby.

  Mahrree shrugged. “All right, Private Zenos. I think I’ll take you up on your offer. Her name’s Jaytsy, although she responds more frequently to ‘Puppy Dog.’ I should only be a few minutes—”

  “Take all the time you need,” Zenos said, not shifting his gaze from Jaytsy as she picked up another rock, considered if she should taste it or toss it, then gave it a worthy heave. “There’s plenty of rock to keep us occupied for hours.”

  Mahrree nodded and brought Peto into the house. In his bedroom she positioned the rocking chair so that she had a view out the window. She could see the image of the private through the thick wavy glass, and the smaller smudge that was her daughter. She never took her eyes off the window while she fed Peto.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t trust the soldier, but . . . well, all right—she didn’t trust the soldier. Why was he so willing to be helpful?

  Mahrree pondered that while she nursed Peto who, within ten minutes, was sound asleep. She laid him in his cradle then went back outside.

  From the front porch she watched as the private tried to show Jaytsy how to throw the rocks into a ring he drew in the dirt. It was a little too complex for Jaytsy to understand. Apparently she saw rings everywhere and was redistributing rocks throughout the garden.

  The private looked up at Mahrree. “Ma’am! You’re finished sooner than I expected.”

  As she walked down the stairs Mahrree wondered what he expected. “Peto was exhausted.”

  “That’s his name? Peto? Rather unusual.”

  Mahrree cringed inside, wondering if she should have revealed her son’s name. She already told him her daughter’s, but she had no reason to not trust the private.

  “Yes. Peto’s my maiden name. My father never had a son to carry on his legacy, but we thought this could be a way to honor his name. It was actually the captain’s idea.”

  Zenos nodded. “I’m sure your father’s very proud that you gave your son your family name.”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “He passed away when I was a teenager.” She flinched inside again. Why was she saying so much to this boy?

  Zenos looked down at Jaytsy. “I’m sorry about your father, ma’am. I lost my mother when I was very young. If ever I have a daughter I’ll name her Meiki, in remembrance.”

  Mahrree was surprised at how much sympathy she suddenly felt for him, but she did nothing more than smile slightly. “That’s a nice idea, Private.”

  “Well!” he said suddenly and looked up at her. His blue eyes looked a little damp, but his engaging grin was back. “I suppose I’ll be on my way then, ma’am. It was good to meet you and your children. They’re adorable!”

  Mahrree laughed. “Really? If you think flattering me will get you promoted more quickly—”

  Zenos turned red. “Oh no, ma’am! That’s not my intention!”

  “I know, I know!” she chuckled. “I was only teasing you.”

  “Understood, ma’am.” He grinned again in such a manner that any woman under twenty-five would have swooned. Probably many over twenty-five as well.

  Mahrree’s mind ran through all the girls she knew, wondering which one might be an interesting match for him.

  “I hope you have a good evening,” he said as he l
et himself out of the gate. “And a good evening is when both babies are asleep for an hour at the same time.”

  Mahrree pointed at him. “Now, how would you know that?” She raised her eyebrows. “Are you a father?” Maybe it was already too late for her former students . . .

  He shook his head quickly. “No, no—not at all! Maybe someday, but . . .” He looked flustered. “It’s just, it’s just what an older woman in my congregation back home used to say. I remembered it because it sounded funny.”

  Mahrree nodded. “Well, she’s right. And Private Zenos, thank you again.”

  ---

  That evening when Perrin came home, Mahrree told him she met his latest recruit.

  “Really? Because he deserted almost as soon as he signed up.”

  Mahrree’s mouth fell open. “Zenos deserted?!”

  Perrin’s face relaxed. “No, not Zenos. A new boy I had come in today. Most skittish thing I’ve ever seen. I have to confess, I’m not disappointed he left. I had a feeling he’d be monopolizing my time. General Cush sent a message only last week detailing how commanders need to help along the reluctant soldiers, how we’re ‘each responsible for making the recruits feel needed.’” He rolled his eyes. “Bit of a relief to realize I won’t have to follow Cush’s advice and spend an hour each day turning that trembling thing into a hardened soldier. What are boys like that even thinking when they sign up?”

  “That you would take him under your wing like a mother hen, I guess. And then spend an hour each day with him? That doesn’t sound like your father’s idea.”

  Perrin glowered. “It sounds like the Command Board’s idea, if you ask me. Three Administrators is three too many. My father sent a note suggesting I discourage, in a most careful way of course, those soldiers that take an inordinate amount of time to train. According to Zenos, the forest discouraged him all by itself.” His face brightened. “So, speaking of Zenos, what did you think of him?”

  “He actually walked me and the children home, and taught Jaytsy how to throw rocks. We better make sure she’s not aiming for the windows.”

  Perrin chuckled. “That sounds like Zenos.”