Soldier at the Door (Forest at the Edge)

by Mercer, Trish

  Shin threw his hands in the air. “Ludicrous! You really think I’m that petty and greedy for power?”

  “I do,” Mal said simply. “We all are. We merely dress it up in the name of altruism. But we’re all the same. We wouldn’t be in our positions if some part of us didn’t crave the power. That’s what all of this is about, Relf.”

  “This isn’t about us,” Shin said, sidestepping the accusation. “But about Perrin. You know he cares nothing for Idumea. He doesn’t see power as you do. Every time I bring up his coming back here to serve, he shuts that right down. He requested to go to the smallest village with a fort available. This has nothing to do with making a name for himself, but everything to do with making the world a safer place. And yes, for his son, and his daughter, and his wife, and everyone else.”

  “High General, I don’t know why you persist in wasting my time,” Mal sighed loudly. “I’ve already given you my answer, and nothing you’ve said has changed my mind. In fact, the revelation that he went into the forest a second time has me quite livid! He violated the first rule of the army, again. If it were any other officer, he would’ve been ushered right back to Idumea for retraining or dismissal, as he was warned. But, High General, you didn’t do that,” Mal’s tone developed a dangerous sharpness. “Not only did you not discipline your son—”

  “I didn’t know about it at the time,” Shin said calmly.

  “But you found out later, didn’t you?”

  Shin didn’t answer.

  “Obviously. So not only did you not discipline your son, you also withheld his deliberate disobedience from me, making you just as culpable.”

  Shin’s jaw shifted slightly, but otherwise he didn’t move.

  “For your irresponsible and deceptive behavior, I should remove you from your post immediately!” Mal seethed. “You should be demoted down to lieutenant and given no greater responsibility than counting the horses at the garrison each evening! And at the very least, I should insist that you bring that rash boy of yours back to Idumea where I can keep a closer eye on him and you!”

  High General Shin stood at attention. “Major Shin withheld the information of what he did to protect his wife, who was struggling with her last expecting. There was concern that the child would be lost if she experienced excessive stress,” he related formally. “Perrin kept his doings secret from everyone for three moons. Once I learned the truth, I chastised him severely and even threatened him with losing his position. I felt that I handled the situation appropriately and didn’t see any reason to trouble you with army discipline.”

  “That’s where you were wrong, High General,” Mal told him. “Everything and everyone in the world is my concern!”

  “I was not aware that you felt the need to know everything, Chairman,” Shin continued in his official tone. “From now on I will provide you details of my days, including all correspondence, communications, my midday meal, and the timings and contents of my bowel movements, if you so desire.”

  Chairman Mal glared at him.

  Shin glared back.

  The High General was far more practiced it at, so Mal looked down at his desk after only a few seconds and started shifting pages around.

  “While I see no reason to not immediately remove your willfully disobedient son, I’m sure others wouldn’t agree with me. There are those who believe that the army and the Administrators are finally putting up a united front, and considering the tensions in the world right now, it seems to be in the world’s best interest to not give the impression otherwise. Therefore, against my better judgment, I will allow Major Shin to remain in Edge.”

  He held up his finger to stave off the subtle smirk of the High General.

  “But only if he can be trusted to follow all the rules of the army, especially the first one. Otherwise, he’ll be demoted and removed—along with you—and the two of you can enjoy your new positions as stable hands in my barns!”

  “If there’s nothing else,” Shin said unemotionally, “I’ll be on my way to Edge. I’ll be sure to give Perrin your respects.” And the High General headed out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

  The page holding the door wished he’d had a chance to let go of it first.

  ---

  In the coach High General Shin thought nothing more of his disappointing conversation with Nicko Mal, and instead read messages and reviewed reports from the north.

  Three villages had been attacked on the same night. The High General sent two advisors to Mountseen and Quake to see for themselves the aftermath of the raids there, and to investigate the response time of the forts. Of utmost importance was devising strategies for securing the villages more effectively. The attacks were a highly coordinated show of Guarder strength, and the general hated shows.

  The numbers were remarkable and immense. According to an update he received when they changed horses, Edge, Mountseen, and Quake had a total of twenty-nine residents killed, over one hundred citizens wounded, twenty-two soldiers dead, and forty-one soldiers injured. Twenty-three Guarders were killed by soldiers, and another three by citizens. The general wasn’t sure how to record the numbers of injured or captured Guarders that took their own lives. He would have to make a new column on the forms he’d already printed in order to list the forty-seven troubling suicides.

  “You’re rather quiet this trip.”

  He was surprised to find himself saying that to his wife, rather than the other way around, as it usually was.

  Joriana had been looking out the window for several hours as the scenery sped past. She wiped away another tear.

  “I just can’t believe they’re gone,” she whispered. “She was like my second mother, he was my other father. Perrin’s last ‘grandparents’.”

  She sniffled.

  Relf, knowing what was expected, fidgeted uneasily, put his stack of papers on the seat, and moved to the other side to sit next to his wife. After a moment he put an arm around her. He had many strengths, but tenderness wasn’t one of them.

  Joriana leaned back against his arm, then rested her head against chest, a wisp of her hair catching in one of the many medals, but she didn’t notice.

  “We could have lost them all,” she said softly as her husband awkwardly patted her arm.

  “But we didn’t,” he reminded her.

  “The little ones! Relf, what if they got our grandbabies?!”

  “But they didn’t,” he said firmly.

  “They’re so vulnerable! Why doesn’t he move them to the fort? Why doesn’t he come back to Idumea? He could be second in command at Pools, couldn’t he? Marsh is always quiet, and not so far for us to travel.”

  Relf glanced around the empty coach for witnesses before kissing his wife on top of her head. “He won’t leave Edge. You know that.”

  “Maybe he will now,” Joriana said, struggling to sit up.

  Her husband deftly untangled the lock of hair caught in a brass star on his uniform. She smiled as he tried to tuck it back into her bun, abandoning his effort only a few seconds later.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, and gave him a quick kiss.

  He hesitated to return it before remembering no one else could see into the coach. “I’ll talk to him,” he promised. “They know where he lives—surely that ought to scare some sense into him.”

  Joriana sighed and leaned against her husband again. “He’s as brave and determined as you are, so you won’t get anywhere with him.” A moment later she asked, “What did you discuss with Nicko?”

  Relf groaned and rubbed his smooth chin. “Nothing much.”

  “You always say that when it’s something big or disappointing.”

  “How would you know?”

  “Women know these things.”

  “That’s why I rarely take you along.”

  ---

  Late the next afternoon High General Shin took off his cap and dropped it unceremoniously on the large desk in his son’s office.

  Perrin had already s
hut the door and flopped down in a chair, having told his staff in the outer office to head down the stairs for a while. From previous experience, Perrin was sure the conversation to follow might get a bit loud, and they’d still be able to overhear the best parts even down in the reception area.

  His father sat down next to him, exhaled, and casually put a boot up on the desk.

  “I expected it to be worse, by the number of incidents reported,” he told his son.

  Perrin scoffed. “I thought it was pretty bad as it is!”

  Relf shrugged slightly. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, you did an excellent job containing the situation. All the men did. And no deaths here, either.”

  “Except for Hogal and Tabbit,” Perrin whispered.

  “Yes,” Relf sighed. “Your mother was going to spare no expense on their burial markers. At least they went together. Your mother felt great comfort about that.”

  “So did I,” Perrin said.

  “And that Corporal Zenos—he’s your baby handler, right?”

  Perrin chuckled softly for the first time in days. “Baby tender, yes. I’m still amazed he stood at attention for you at the surgery wing. First time he’s gotten up on his own since he was injured.”

  Relf nodded. “I’ve been known to bring even dying men to their feet,” he said soberly.

  Perrin snorted.

  “The village is putting forth a valiant effort to clean up. Physically, they seemed to be in relatively good condition. But mentally? Perrin, I saw a lot of scared eyes out there on our tour.”

  “I know,” said Perrin quietly. “Twice we’ve kept the Guarders confined to the forests, but this time? Failure.”

  Relf reached over and bounced a fist lightly on his son’s leg. “Twice you’ve kept the Guarders confined to the forests, but this was only a matter of time. You’ve got an immense task in front of you. You’ve won over the villagers again, I could see that much. They looked at you today with such awe,” he winked with pride at his son. “But to make them feel secure again? That’s going to take some doing.”

  Perrin nodded. “Mahrree said the same thing to me. We’ll come up with something, I’m sure.”

  “Son,” Relf began, “I’ve been thinking a great deal about this on the way up here. You know how sometimes people joke that the world’s out to get them? In your case, that’s true. It knows where your family is, and you’re the only one in the world that can keep them safe. This was far too calculated on their part. Never before have I known Guarders to be so organized to coordinate this in three villages at the same time. And they’re no longer working in pairs, either. Something’s changed—their methods, their leadership . . . something.”

  “So we need to change too, Father. Our current strategies are useless. But I do know something that would work.”

  The High General squinted. “What?”

  “Let me go into the forests to find them!” his son whispered. “I know the woods—”

  “NO!” Relf cut him off. “Traditionally we have—”

  “Why should that matter?!” the major demanded. “And since when do you care about upholding the traditions of the army? I’m telling you, the forests are not what we’ve been led to believe. The trees are actually the safe parts, it’s easy to see where the dangers—”

  Relf exhaled loudly. “Major Shin, we’ve been through this before. The Command Board has specifically—”

  “Why is there a committee deciding your every move, High General?” Major Shin’s voice was thick with irritation.

  “ENOUGH!” the High General bellowed at him.

  His son didn’t recoil, but met his glare. “Yes, it is enough. Enough of our sitting around and waiting like impotent, incompetent—”

  The High General pointed at him. “You watch your mouth, boy! Things are better now than they ever were under King Oren. I have more influence—”

  “Then prove it!” his son challenged. “Give me permission to go into the forests, let me find them, eradicate—”

  “Are you insane?” the general hissed. “You really think Nicko Mal would allow that?”

  “You just said things are better, so are they?”

  “I said better, but not perfect, son!”

  Perrin grumbled and turned to face his father. “Why do you let him push you around?”

  Relf arched an angry eyebrow. “What did you just say?!”

  Perrin clenched his left fist.

  So did his father.

  “Why do you do whatever Nicko Mal tells you? You’re head of the entire army! Stand up to him! Insist that—”

  “Insist WHAT?!” High General Shin bellowed. “That I be in charge?!”

  “That you do your job!” Major Shin shouted back, glad that no one was in the outer office. “That you secure the world! Look, you have 15,000 men now; let’s take, say, five thousand of them and swarm that forest! I can teach the men the hazards, then we go in there and eradicate the Guarders once and for all.”

  “Nicko would never agree—”

  “Forget Mal!”

  “I can’t!” the High General shouted. “Take a few guesses what would happen if I went directly against his orders!”

  “You’d succeed!” Major Shin said with a devious grin.

  “He’d see it as a direct challenge to his leadership!”

  “So challenge him! You have 15,000 men, General!”

  “And then what, Perrin? Then what? Who’s in charge next? Who sets himself up as leader of the world, with the army backing him?”

  Perrin continued to grin manically at his father.

  Relf recoiled. “I will not be King Relf, Perrin,” he said quietly. “Nor should you be the next king.”

  Perrin’s grin fell and he scoffed. “That’s not what I want.”

  “It better not be. No one man can handle all that power. We have plenty of evidence of that.”

  His son brooded as he slowly deflated. “I’m only suggesting that you would do a much better job. Mahrree would do a much better job—”

  “It’s complicated” Relf cut in. “We don’t have to go through this again. There was a reason I insisted on so many Administrators. Mal intended to take the throne with two advisors. He wanted to be king himself—I’ve told you that. I’ve spent the past years keeping him and his ambitions under control. I told him I wouldn’t support him taking over from Oren unless the power was spread out among twenty-two others. I figured with that many men he just might choose three or four that were thoughtful and wise enough to talk sense into the others. So far it’s been functioning. Not perfectly, but acceptably.”

  Perrin’s shoulders drooped. “I know,” he whispered. “I agree. Sort of.”

  His father nodded. “We’ll never have a perfect system. Only if the Creator were in charge would everything be equal and fair, I suppose.”

  “Nicko Mal is no Creator!” Perrin pointed out.

  “Neither am I,” Relf reminded him. “No one is. Maybe a Guide could have done it, but those are long gone. I keep Nicko Mal in check, Perrin. And he keeps me in check. The Administrators and the army watch each other like two hawks guarding a field of mice. For the past five years it’s been working better than anything we had under the kings. And Nicko Mal has upheld your grandfather’s very wise law: No man is allowed in the forest. And . . . I uphold that law too.”

  Perrin clenched both fists in earnestness. “Father, let me go one more time, in secret—”

  The High General’s face twisted in red rage, but his voice was low and threatening. “Major Shin, you do it again not only will you be thrown out of the army, but so will I! And then who can we trust to keep the northern border here safe? Who then will keep Nicko Mal in check in Idumea? Not Cush, I assure you that. He’s practically Nicko’s lap dog. If the two of us go down, so will the rest of the world. Guarders or no Guarders, we’re back to the reign of kings, and neither of us would be in position to fix it!”

  Perrin slumped back into his chair and exhale
d loudly. “There’s got to be something—”

  “There’s NOTHING, boy! Get that through your head! We’re trapped, but we still have influence as long as we work within the system! You care about this village? About Edge? Your family? Then work within the laws! You want to save the world? Then let’s save it! The legal way!”

  Major Shin sat in gloomy silence for a minute, staring out the windows. Eventually he rubbed his forehead. “Grandfather wanted me to go into the forests.”

  Relf’s mouth twitched. “How do you know that?”

  “He told me. When I was twelve. He told me about freeing Querul the Fourth’s servants.”

  His father nodded slowly. “One of his greatest successes, and only a handful of people in the world know about it. I’m surprised he told you.”

  “It was because he thought I might some day . . . have your position,” Perrin said uncomfortably. He couldn’t say the title. Not for the first time, the idea of becoming High General left a foul taste in his mouth. “He wanted me to know that sometimes there’s only one man who can go over the wall to find out what’s really happening, and put a stop to it.”

  “He went over the wall,” Relf said appreciatively. “Literally. Climbed up and over that stone wall around Querul’s compound—now Mal’s—to show the servants there was no danger on the other side. Quite a deed for a man of his girth,” he added with the smallest of smiles. “They followed him most reluctantly. Then, a couple of moons later, they all wrote him letters of gratitude. He showed me the letters. Told me that’s what it meant to be the High General: to rescue the abused, to protect the innocent, to safeguard the citizenry.”

  “Exactly!” Perrin smiled. “I’m trying to follow Pere’s example.”

  “But he never told you specifically,” Relf’s tone turned sharp, “to enter the forests, did he?!”

  Perrin refused to meet his father’s intense gaze. “It’s what he intended me to do. What he was alluding to in our conversation.”