Soldier at the Door (Forest at the Edge)

by Mercer, Trish

“I suggested we revisit an old favorite of his, and he suggested we twist it a little. We’ll argue the merits of repealing or altering the First Law of Nature, and who should be responsible for it. He’ll go around on the first day of school, tell all the children they should be there, and since the major has requested it . . .” Perrin sighed. “Honestly, I’ve never been so nervous for a debate in my entire life! There’s so much at stake, Mahrree.”

  “Even more than when we were debating?”

  “Yes, even more than that. I knew I’d eventually win you over. Just a matter of time,” he said offhandedly. “But this is the whole village. I have to be the major and still be their neighbor. I don’t know if I can restore that balance.”

  “If anyone can, it’s you.”

  ---

  The lone figure of a young man made his way up into the forest, heading in a northerly direction, one hundred twenty-six paces from the fresh spring at the edge of the woods. It was well past dark, and the figure’s dark clothing hid him well. He sat down on a large rock by a hot bubbling spring and waited.

  Moments later another figure approached him from the north, dressed in green and brown mottled clothing, and sat down next to him.

  “The forest has become very active this week. Something big is coming soon. Do you think you’re ready?”

  The younger man sighed. “It’s what I’ve been waiting for, for over a year. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

  The older man next to him nodded. “And now for the real question—is he ready?”

  “Oh, absolutely! There’s no one more prepared than him. He can take on the world!”

  The man smiled at his companion’s enthusiasm. “Now, think carefully and honestly. This is important. Is he really ready, or is your closeness to the situation clouding your objectivity?”

  The younger man stared into the bubbling spring, not at all concerned by his close proximity. They’d been watching it for decades, and all it ever did was bubble.

  “I may be close to the situation, but I’ve never met anyone quite like him, or his wife.” He looked up at the man. “Isn’t he the reason I’m here? Is there any doubt?”

  The older man shook his head. “No. There’s no doubt. Just caution. And concern. Some of it may strike a little close to home for him. There’s also concern for you as well.”

  The younger man smiled. “I know I’m doing the right thing. This is where I’m supposed to be. Is there anything else I should be doing?”

  “No, you are doing the right thing. And I don’t think there’s anyone more apt for the position than you, Zenos.”

  Shem nodded. “Then let them come. We’re ready.”

  ---

  Rector Densal smiled as he looked at the tables and chairs crowded with congregation members eating, talking, and laughing. He loved Holy Days because each felt like trip away from the world, a day lifted out of time each week where everything was different, when cares were set aside, and everyone in their neighborhood came together to discuss The Writings and life, and ready themselves for another week.

  Not only was this Hogal Densal’s love, but his life. He couldn’t have imagined doing anything different with the time the Creator allotted him than to remind those he loved about the Creator who loved them.

  It was an unusual moment for him. No one was rushing up to speak to him, or asking to meet with him for “only a few minutes” in his office, minutes that frequently turned into hours as sorrows, troubles, and concerns spilled out unheeded, the confessors desperately hoping Rector Densal could help them find a way to clean up the mess. He always could.

  But he also knew exactly why he had this rare free moment and what he was to do with it.

  He searched the packed congregation hall where, three hours ago, the benches were filled with those to hear his sermon, then moved aside to bring in tables for eating. Now that most of the food everyone brought to share was gone, his congregation began to change the seating arrangements yet again for an afternoon of conversations. Near the middle, towards the left, he saw them.

  Mahrree was at one table talking and laughing with some other young mothers as they bounced their babies or discreetly nursed them. Jaytsy played nearby on the floor with other toddlers and a pile of soft knitted toys that older women brought each week to entertain the little ones.

  At a table close by sat Perrin and Corporal Shem Zenos, the only two blue uniforms in the entire hall, with several other men. Usually on sunny afternoons such as this one, the corporal would be outside with the older children organizing them in games or challenging them to races. But lately he sat next to his commander, watching him with the admiration of a younger brother thrilled to have been saved a spot at the men’s table.

  For the past two moons, ever since Perrin became the highly suspect Eyes and Ears and Voice, Zenos had stayed closer to him on Holy Days, his happy, gentle face acting as a bridge between the neighbors and the major they now feared. Gradually members of the congregation began to realize nothing had changed with Perrin and warmed up to him again, thanks to Corporal Zenos’s unwavering dedication. Still, Perrin held back in the conversations about Idumean politics in which he was usually the loudest voice.

  But today he back was in the thick of the conversation with about a dozen other men. The discussion had turned to the idiocy of King Oren, and one man claimed he’d heard Oren had stabled his horses in the throne room during a particularly harsh Raining Season.

  Perrin, the only man in Edge who had ever met Oren, and had been in that throne room at least a dozen times, jumped in with an elaborate description of it to prove he’d never seen any horses stabled there.

  And next to him sat Shem Zenos, beaming unabashedly at Perrin Shin.

  Hogal could read him as if he was a notice on the messenger boards.

  The rector watched his great, great niece toddle over to the loud men’s table, in search of one wearing a dark blue uniform. She stopped between Perrin and Shem, looking at each of them. Since her father was leaning forward in a vivid description about the polished stone floor of the throne room which no horses would ever tolerate stepping on, Jaytsy looked up at Shem instead.

  He saw her, grinned, and picked her up to sit on his lap. She leaned against his chest sleepily and popped her thumb into her mouth. Shem cuddled her, putting his lips to the top of her head, but stopping before actually kissing her dark brown hair.

  From her table, Mahrree looked over to see where Jaytsy had wandered off to. When she saw her daughter on Shem’s lap, she smiled. Shem nodded to her, and Mahrree went back to her discussion with the other mothers.

  Shem continued to watch Mahrree for a few moments, a small smile on his face.

  Perrin didn’t notice.

  But Hogal did. The boy was as transparent as the windows on the command tower, and Hogal could see right in.

  After a minute Jaytsy, rested up, wriggled down from Shem’s lap and went back to the other small children playing. Shem returned to listening to the major describe how the mansion stables were more elaborate than even the houses at the new Edge of Idumea estates.

  Hogal slowly walked in the direction of the table, and Shem looked away from Perrin to see Hogal nearing. Rector Densal raised an eyebrow at him and cocked his head slightly. Zenos blinked in surprise, nodded once and quietly pushed away his chair.

  Perrin didn’t see his greatest admirer leaving the table to join Hogal.

  “Corporal Zenos, might I have a moment of your time?” he said softly as he put a hand on the large boy’s shoulder. He had to reach almost as high as he did when he put his hand on Perrin.

  “Of course, Rector Densal. Can I help you with something?”

  “Indeed you can, my boy. Let’s go into my office.”

  He directed him towards a small room off the kitchen area of the rectory. When they went in, Hogal shut the door and gestured to two plain chairs before a small desk. “Have a seat, Shem.”

  Hesitantly Corporal Zenos sat down, rubbing hi
s palms on his trousers. “What can I do for you, Rector?”

  Hogal sat down opposite of him and smiled. “I don’t have much time. Someone will be pounding on that door soon, so I’ll get right to the point: I know who you are—really are—and why you’re here in Edge.”

  Hogal knew he had it right because the corporal, unprepared for that opening, dropped his jaw nearly to his chest.

  Then Hogal hit him again. “I’ve done all I could to prepare Perrin for the Creator, and I’m sure you’ll understand when I say that I won’t allow anyone or anything to interfere with that.”

  “Sir, I . . . I . . . think you may have me confused with someone else—” Zenos stammered.

  “No, Shem Zenos, I do not. Years ago the Creator told me what he intended for Perrin. He was only eighteen then, just a little younger than you, and not heading in the right direction. It was my task to change his heading. We spent some time together, and he grew a great deal in those weeks. I kept writing to him, hoping he would want to serve in Edge. He eventually did, and I couldn’t have been happier about it. These past three years have been wonderful, but I’m simply growing too old to keep up with him anymore, and I know I won’t be around forever.”

  Corporal Zenos couldn’t even speak.

  “So I’m leaving him to your care, Shem Zenos,” Hogal said in the heaviest tone he’d ever used. “I expect you to watch out for him. He’s now your responsibility. And I expect you to keep a close eye on only him, from now on.”

  The poor young soldier could only gulp.

  Hogal grinned that the message was received, waggled his eyebrows, slapped him on the back and said, in his normally cheery voice, “Good luck, my boy!”

  Then he stood up, opened the door, and escorted a dumbfounded Corporal Zenos out.

  Chapter 11 ~ “Are you going somewhere?!”

  Nearly the entire population of Edge came nervously to the center of the village the next evening, the 63rd Day of Weeding Season, 322.

  When the amphitheater began to fill, Mahrree could feel the tension swirling around her at the front row with the heat of the evening. She sat with the Densals, her mother, and Jaytsy and Peto. Perrin had insisted his children come to remind anyone who saw the two-year-old and one-year-old that he was a family man. Fortunately Peto took a late nap and dozed contentedly in his great-great-uncle’s arms, while Jaytsy was happy to sit on the ground dumping out the contents of her grandmother’s bag. Even Hycymum realized now wouldn’t be a good time to get upset that her yarns were rolling to front of the platform’s stand, even if it was Tabbit who good-naturedly kicked them for Jaytsy’s entertainment.

  Hogal, sitting next to Mahrree, looked around him carefully so as to not disturb Peto. “Where’s Corporal Zenos tonight?”

  There were about twenty soldiers in the amphitheater, some sitting in the audience, a few standing at the exit stairs, all trying to look friendly and casual. They weren’t doing a good job of it, judging by the wary looks of the villagers. Even Staff Sergeant Gizzada, who had a naturally pleasant face, seemed to be trying too hard to exude relaxed joy, suggesting instead that he’d had one too many pies after dinner.

  Perrin must have given them lessons in smiling, Mahrree fretted.

  “Shem’s on patrol tonight, at the forest’s edge.” Mahrree glanced at Hogal and saw great concern in his eyes. “Why?”

  “Suppose that’s right, then,” Hogal muttered under his breath. The usual sparkle in his eyes was gone, until he looked at Mahrree. Some of it tried to return, but fizzled. “Don’t you worry about Shem Zenos. In fact, I recommend that you and Perrin always keep him close to you.”

  Mahrree grinned. “We do! Haven’t you noticed? He’s right next to us every Holy Day in your congregation—”

  Hogal’s eyes remained uncharacteristically serious. “Mahrree, keep him close. He’s young, but a most excellent man, and the finest I’ve ever known after Perrin.”

  Mahrree sobered too. “That’s high praise coming from you.”

  “I trust him, Mahrree. So should you and Perrin. With everything. Promise me you will?”

  Mahrree could only nod at Hogal’s grave expression.

  Then he looked down at the ground, saw a ball of yard in front of him, and gave it a worthy kick that made Jaytsy laugh and Hycymum fume. He waggled his eyebrows at Mahrree and chuckled, as if the last conversation had never taken place.

  A few minutes later Major Shin took the stage, with his new jacket and insignias that he realized he had to finally wear, and the murmuring audience fell to a frightened hush.

  Mahrree smiled encouragingly at him as he glanced down at her. He winked and she couldn’t help but sigh. He looked fantastic, as always, but she’d seen him only once from that angle before on the platform and forgotten that it made him seem larger than life. She realized with a mischievous giggle that probably most of the women who attended their debates over three years ago didn’t come for the words but for the view.

  But tonight Mrs. Shin was confident her husband winked only at her.

  When Mr. Hegek joined him he looked comical in comparison. He seemed to shrink even smaller under the nervous gaze of over four thousand villagers. But then Major Shin put a friendly arm around him and announced the beginning of the debate.

  Forty-five minutes later the audience’s demeanor was significantly altered.

  The change happened around the time Mr. Hegek, who proved to be a fair match for Perrin once he got over his fear of the crowd, suggested that the only person in Edge capable of changing Nature’s First Law was Major Shin himself. He went so far as to dictate an amusing letter the major should send to the Administrators. He proposed how altering Nature’s forces could keep the citizens in line—quite literally—if the force was applied in a narrow enough focus.

  The high point of the evening was when the two of them pulled several teenage students from the audience and practiced queuing them up to find the most appropriate “lines.” Purposely choosing very lively teens who playfully refused to stand still, even when the major “ordered” them and their new director “threatened” them, was a shared stroke of genius.

  By the time the two men began to teasingly argue about the problems of other forces, such as attraction and repulsion, then illustrated the problem cleverly by lining up the uncooperative teenagers and alternating them boy-girl, they were wholly claimed by the laughing audience as native sons of Edge.

  Mahrree had to wait in line to talk to her husband after the debate, but she didn’t mind. She just beamed at him as he glowed in his victory. He didn’t win the debate, but handily won over Edge, which was a far more significant accomplishment. Many men slapped him on the back and a few assured him they never doubted he was always “one of them.” Mahrree overheard a few women tell him they had missed watching him on the platform and hoped he would return again for them to admire his abilities.

  Mahrree smirked when she saw Perrin blush briefly. She made a mental note to pay a few neighborly visits to his admirers in the near future. She caught his eye and he made his excuses to join her.

  “You’re not going to stay for the acrobatics? They’re from Idumea. I saw them years ago. They’re quite amazing. Jaytsy and Peto would love it.”

  He glanced down at his children sitting in their little wagon. Jaytsy was rocking back and forth trying to get it to move, and Peto did his best to climb out of the ropes Mahrree had fashioned snugly around him to keep him in place. “Look, Peto’s ready to join them!” Perrin grinned.

  Mahrree hadn’t seen him this happy in weeks. She shook her head but smiled.

  “Maybe another time. They’ll be exhausted in half an hour anyway and the whining competition will begin. No one here wants to witness that! I can get them home and into bed. You finish taking your compliments, and keep track of the names of the women.”

  She gripped his arm and tiptoed to reach his ear.

  “Tonight was exactly what everyone needed,” she whispered. “I see by the crowd of
well-wishers that even our new director has made some new friends. Well done, Major!”

  Perrin kissed her quickly. “Thanks. I’ll be home soon, I promise.”

  ---

  Corporal Shem Zenos and the corporal assigned to him that evening guided their horses along the tree line, just as the sun was setting. They had been watching the forest, as they always did, when Shem noticed the movement out of the corner of his eye.

  “This is it,” he exhaled quietly. “And right at sundown. That’s different.”

  He glanced over to the other corporal to see if he noticed anything, but the soldier was looking south towards the village at that moment. Shem looked over to the trees again and felt his mouth go dry. He was about to be put to the test.

  They burst out, at least twenty, as one great dark smear in a fast dash south.

  “Corporal!” Zenos shouted. “Back to the fort! Warn Karna!”

  Then Zenos kicked the sides of his horse and rode towards Edge, alone.

  ---

  It was an hour after the debate when Mahrree opened the window of Jaytsy’s bedroom to let in the cool evening breeze that came off the mountains. The sun had just set, changing the sky to a deep orange with green cloudy strips through it, and her daughter slept soundly in her small bed, as her little brother did in his.

  Mahrree thought nothing was more beautiful than the sight of her children. Except her children freshly scrubbed and softly snoring for yet another peaceful night. Since they both began to sleep solidly, Mahrree’s belief in the mercifulness of the Creator had doubled.

  She turned to leave Jaytsy’s room when she heard an odd sound outside. It stopped as abruptly as it began. She walked quickly to the window to try to discern what it was. Then it came faintly again.

  A scream, high-pitched, from somewhere in the area of her mother’s neighborhood.

  Tonight, Mahrree, the world really IS out to get you. MOVE!

  Mahrree clutched the window frame as her father’s words filled her head to toe.