by Trish Mercer
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The next day Perrin came out of his office to see his three young officers sitting obediently at the large forward command desk, wearing expressions of apprehension. This was, after all, the first time since they’d come to the fort that he held a weekly officers’ meeting. He was about fifty weeks late to follow procedure.
Well, as they say: best now than never was.
“Thank you for coming,” he said cheerfully and loudly as he dropped a stack of files next to the open chair. The other officers, he noted, were seated about as far away as they could be around the desk. “We’ll be doing this on a weekly basis, by the way, so make sure your schedules are cleared for this hour.”
“An excellent idea,” said Thorne, and Perrin had noticed that his sycophantic style from last night was in full force.
“You see, sir,” Thorne continued eagerly, “we did something like this last year as well, as per and in accordance to Fort Procedures, Section 3—”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Perrin interrupted as he sat down to the desk. But it was the manner in which he sat that helped establish the mood of the meeting.
He had a few ways of putting his body down; subtly, normally, and a way that Mahrree called big-ly, as if everything around him couldn’t help but lean toward his direction, much as when he sat in the middle of the sofa.
Today, though, he made sure he sat huge-ly. That the chair made an audible creak when he thunked his full weight on it only added to the effect.
“Thorne,” he said, after making quite a bit of noise scooching the chair closer to the desk so that the three pairs of eyes were glued to him, “I frequently skimmed the notes you took. But now we’ll be holding the weekly meeting the correct way.”
There were three things Perrin picked up in that moment; first, Thorne was so full of pride that it was easy to insult him, as his affronted scoff, which he tried to keep in, demonstrated; two, Offra was capable of smiling, and hiding it in almost an instant; three, Radan was incapable of holding in his snicker, for which he had to cover his mouth with his hand.
And, as a pure bonus, Perrin also picked up that Thorne and Radan had had some kind of arrangement, and that one of the many strings that held them together was severed by Radan’s snickering.
Perrin sat back in the chair. Oh this was going to be fun.
“Now,” he announced, “and Thorne, take notes—”
“But sir, that’s enlisted man’s work. Now, while I do enjoy having only officers here—”
Perrin twisted fully to face Thorne who paused, unsure of why the commander was scowling at him.
“There’s a space at this desk next to me that will, in the future, be occupied by Sergeant Zenos,” he told Thorne steadily. “He’d be here today if he wasn’t south on leave visiting his father and sister. And as per accordance to whatever section you were just trying to quote, Beneff may also attend this meeting. However—” and this was where Perrin was about to lie, “—because I don’t want us to be disturbed, Beneff is manning the reception desk downstairs and will ensure that no one comes up to the tower.”
He just couldn’t put up with Beneff’s doddering, nor his recent habit to hum at random moments and dig his finger into his ear.
“Now, Thorne, you will do as you are told by the commander of the fort, because that is, actually, what I am, and while I concede that in the past year I acted as considerably less than that, I’m done with my little break and am back fully in charge. Pull out that quill and paper, Captain. And follow standard procedures this time, not whatever that little chart thing you came up with about seven moons ago. That helped absolutely no one.”
Thorne, stunned, could do nothing but follow the direct order.
Turning back to the other smirking young men, Perrin began with, “A new year, and new projects. Lots of responsibility to hand around, and we’re going to start today. Gentlemen, the growing and collecting of the taxation last year was a big success, for which I belatedly thank each of you. However, we can’t sit back and think that Idumea will come to the rescue again should another disaster hit us. Nor do Edgers, I’m sure, want to be beholden to Idumea again.”
Perrin could tell Thorne wanted to say something, but he wasn’t about to give him—scribbling frantically to keep up with the deliberately fast rate in which Perrin spoke—any chance of interruption.
“So I’m instituting our own ‘reserves’ program. This year we’ll once again grow as much as we did last year, but instead of sending it to Idumea, we’ll store it here in Edge in barns which we’ll designate as storehouses, similar to the one we have in the compound. Then, if there’s an emergency, we can provide. We’ll continue this storing procedure each year, restocking each Harvest, and distributing the old goods to those less fortunate in Edge.”
Thorne’s lips were moving as he scrawled, something on his mind that he couldn’t express until he was done recording.
Perrin made sure he didn’t get that opportunity. “This project will be in addition to our regular work, so it will require a great deal of dedication for the next several moons. There are two main components: securing land and constructing the storehouses, and explaining the procedure to the villagers and visiting families—”
“—which I will gladly take on, excellent ideas, Colonel.” Apparently Thorne could babble while taking notes. “When Idumea hears of our plan, I’m sure they will—”
“No,” was all Perrin said, and huge-ly. He had a manner of speaking bigger than anyone else, too.
Thorne’s quill stumbled on the page and he looked up as if he’d been slapped. “No?” He seemed like he was ready to slap back.
Oh the toady was already slipping, poor captain.
“No,” Perrin repeated more easily, his focus solely on the two lieutenants. “This project is for you two men.”
Radan and Offra both sat a little taller, their eyes darting over at Thorne with hints of superiority.
Perrin pointed at Radan. “According to your file, you did some construction down in Midplain. Therefore I’ll put you in charge of securing land, timber, builders—everything we need to build two storehouses, one on either side of Edge. You may find an unused barn already available which we may be able to convert. I want frequent updates, and we’ll meet once a week to evaluate progress.”
“Yes, sirrrrr!” Radan said, enthusiastically adding even more r’s.
That had annoyed Perrin to no end, and if he was going to work with this young man, something had to change. “Radan, I appreciate the zeal, but ‘sir’ is supposed to be a quick response, not take half the afternoon to get through. Work on that, if only when you’re around me, all right?” He added a friendly smile that relaxed Radan’s tense shoulders.
“Yes . . . sir.”
“Well done. Now, Offra,” he turned to him, “I understand you helped Zenos with the collection of the taxation, and I want you to resume that. Because Zenos will initially be busy with other matters, I’m putting the project of contacting villagers, plotting—”
It was Thorne’s prolonged throat-clearing that caused Perrin to stop and look at the captain. For good measure, Perrin slapped him, hard, on the back. “Something caught in there, Thorne?”
Thorne, who had been bristling like a porcupine for the past five minutes, raised his eyebrows. “Sir, I must protest. I think I am much more up to the task of—”
“And I don’t. Offra,” he turned back to him, “as I was saying—”
“Sir, have you read his file?” Thorne demanded.
Perrin didn’t even glance at Thorne as he said, with a faint smile aimed at Offra, “Yes, I’ve read Offra’s file. But more than that, I’ve observed the man himself. I believe he’s far more than ‘adequate’ to handle this assignment. Besides, his former commander is an arrogant twit who can’t recognize character if it bit off his nose. However,” and now Perrin turned to see that Thorne’s face had gone beet red, “I’ve also observed you over the past year, and I recommend that you shut y
our mouth before a new entry is added to your file.”
Thorne clamped his mouth shut so tight there was an audible click, and he turned an enraged shade of purple.
“And a well done to you, too,” Perrin said, as if speaking to an eight-year-old. “I suppose you have learned something since your diplomacy courses.”
Even Offra sniggered at that, and Radan looked quickly out the observation windows to hide his grin.
“As I was saying, Offra—dig out the files of what you did last year, and tomorrow we’ll go over them to see what needs modifying. Then you’ll begin creating a strategy to present this to Edge. I want this to be strictly voluntary. I believe that when Edgers see the wisdom in it they’ll come around and want to contribute.”
“Sir?” Offra piped up. “A question?”
“Of course! This is, after all, a meeting where all opinions and questions can be freely stated,” said Perrin generously, fully aware that his treatment of Thorne since the beginning contradicted all of that. Well, had to keep the young officers on their toes, right?
Offra cleared his throat. “Could we . . . offer incentives?”
“Yes? Yes?” Perrin encouraged in the same manner he used on his old dog Barker to get him to finally bark. Which he never did.
Offra nodded nervously. “Such as . . . maybe villagers’ names would be posted on the message boards for their contributions? Announced at the amphitheater? Something public that feeds people’s egos? They tend to respond to that, you know.”
Perrin grinned. “Yes, they absolutely do! Good ideas. Jot them down, Thorne. You seem to be falling behind, there.”
With an angry harrumph—likely forgetting that wasn’t a subservient noise to emit—Thorne went back to scribbling.
“Keep ideas like that coming, Offra,” Perrin said.
Offra’s hand went up like a timid school boy’s.
“I see the lieutenant in the corner has another question?”
Offra smiled in embarrassment. “Just one more thing, sir? Last year Rector Yung assisted in convincing some of the villagers to help. May I use him again?”
“And the marvelous suggestions just keep coming, don’t they Thorne?” Perrin slapped him hard on the back again, making sure he hit the same spot as before. That’d have to be the last time, Perrin knew, because he was enjoying hitting that boy far too much.
The quill in Thorne’s hand flipped out, leaving a messy trail across the notes. “Oh, sir!”
“Oh, dear,” Perrin tsk-tsked. It really was just that easy to undo the captain. “Well, you needed to rewrite all of those anyway. Three copies, just like your grandfather requests.”
Radan was fully grinning now, and Perrin thought he heard a few more strings between him and Thorne snap.
Now Radan raised his hand.
Perrin leaned forward. “Really, boys—no need to raise hands. We’re not in Command School anymore, thank the Creator.”
Radan’s arm sagged as he glanced at Thorne. “But last year we always had to . . .” He trailed off as Thorne glared at him.
Perrin smiled kindly. “Never was in section 3, or wherever the procedures for weekly meetings are. In fact, when a group of officers get together, it’s expected a few shouting matches will occur. All part of the fun, right? Now, what do you want to say?” Radan grinned as Perrin added to Thorne, “And be sure to get all of this.”
“Sir, any particular kind of barns you want for the storehouses?”
Perrin leaned back and looked at the ceiling, contemplating. “I don’t really know, Radan. Surprise me. We’ll go over the plans you find, and work from there. Did you get all that, Thorne?”
“Yes. Sir.”
“My, you could split a mountain with a response like that, Captain.” Perrin slapped his hands on the desktop, causing Thorne to make yet another inky spill on his notes.
“Oh, sir! Really!”
“Oh, I am so sorry about that. Maybe next time we’ll have Zenos take the notes.”
“Yes, please!”
“Because his writing is so much neater . . .”
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Half an hour later Perrin grinned as Offra and Radan saluted him readily before heading down the stairs, and Thorne grumbled as he began to rewrite his notes.
When Perrin got up, it was with a huge-ly bump against the desk, which meant Thorne growled out loud, crumpled up the sheet of paper he had just began—now covered in spilled ink—and slapped down another sheet to begin once more.
“Don’t worry, Captain,” Perrin said soothingly, “I have another officers meeting scheduled soon, and that’s where you’ll likely get to witness a real shouting match or two. And someone else will take the notes.” Then, unable to help himself, and because it felt so right, he slapped Thorne’s back one last time, leaving a red mark on his hand that burned with enormous satisfaction.
When Perrin closed the door to his office, he chuckled.
Being in command was fun again.
Chapter 11 ~ “Men, it’s our turn to go hunting!”
A week later, and three weeks after the Remembrance Ceremony, Colonel Shin sat at another officers’ meeting, but this one was much larger and better well-attended by a dozen men seated at the large table with him. The meeting was being held behind locked doors in a side training room off of the mess hall. Across from Perrin at the rectangular table sat Master Sergeant Zenos, then Lieutenant Colonel Karna and his lieutenant to one side, and Major Yordin and his master sergeant on the other. Along a shorter side was Major Fadh and one of his assistants, and across from them were Sergeant Major Beneff, because Perrin couldn’t come up with a reason to exclude him, and Captain Thorne.
Thorne was actually closest to Perrin, who occupied one long side of the table all by himself where he’d spread tidy stacks of pages and notes. But Thorne had a manner of sitting away from his commander that suggested much more distance than there was. He had learned to sit small-ly, and for once, Perrin approved of his behavior. Seated behind the table were three more sergeants, accompanying their commanders who traveled there to keep careful notes of the conversation.
“I appreciate all of you attending today,” Perrin began, “and I realize the fort at Rivers would have been a more central site, but seeing as how I’m still wedded to Edge’s borders—”
The officers rolled their eyes at Colonel Shin’s extended probation, except for Captain Thorne who sat stoically, if not uneasily.
But there was nothing Perrin wanted to do more on the anniversary of his parents’ death than to conduct this meeting.
“—I appreciate all of you journeying to Edge to join us.”
“Any time, Colonel. You know that,” said Lieutenant Colonel Karna.
Major Fadh of Quake nodded, and Major Yordin of Mountseen said, “I’m sure all of this will die down again soon, Colonel. Just give Idumea a little more time to forget how loved you are, and you’ll be a free man again.” Yordin emphasized his point with a confident slap on the table.
Perrin smiled. Yordin’s hand would be red by the end of the meeting, making Perrin wish that Thorne’s back was in smacking distance. The major wasn’t nick-named Roarin’ Yordin for nothing. While his skin was a usual light reddish-brown, and he was of usual height, he was, however, of unusual strength and ferocity when provoked. He kept his head shaved as smooth as his firm chin, so that even his scalp looked muscular. He was who you wanted on your side in a fight, and someone to run away from if he was rooting for the other man. Even though he didn’t enter the university until his late twenties, he soared through the ranks. That was probably why he was headquartered far away from Idumea, just like Perrin.
Sergeant Major Beneff shook his head. “Not so sure about it all dying down, Major, with all due respect, ho-ho. The cows know how to smell the sunset, after all.”
Perrin was used to this, the silent pause that hung in the air after one of Beneff’s bits of knowledge fluttered to the ground, and everyone stared at it wondering what in the world that
was. A few of the officers looked at Perrin for an explanation, but he merely shook his head to indicate they really didn’t want to pursue it.
Who he felt sorry for were the enlisted men sitting against the wall taking notes for their commanders. The three other scribes looked at Perrin’s, who closed his eyes and silently sniggered.
“Not so sure about it dying down at all, hi-ho. Have you heard about the play?”
Perrin rubbed his forehead as Karna chuckled. “I have!”
Perrin raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him.
Sergeant Zenos’s snort caught Perrin’s attention next, and Shem quickly shook his head apologetically.
The two majors sat up taller.
“Well I haven’t,” said Fadh with a cautious glance at the colonel.
Perrin was surprised at his interest. Major Graeson Fadh was taller than Yordin, slender, darker brown in skin with black hair, and a perfect foil for Yordin. As roaring as Yordin was, Fadh was quiet, thoughtful, and reserved. That made him an exceptionally sharp man, and allowed him to notice nearly everything.
Except for maybe one thing. “What play, Beneff?”
“We don’t need to hear about that right now,” said Perrin firmly.
But his reticence intrigued Yordin. “Oh, then I think we do! Come on, Beneff. Out with it!” Slap.
Beneff smiled at the majors’ encouragement, and didn’t notice his commander trying to stare him down. “Seems they’re practicing down in Orchards right now. Best plays come out of there, you know. ‘Course, I don’t really know. That’s just what I hear, hum-hum, and one should never ask the rock where the dirt is—”
Yordin’s eyebrows furrowed at that one.
“My brother and his wife live there,” Beneff droned on. “She loves the actors, that woman does. She’d drag us out to everything they put on. Rather glad I got transferred up here—”
Karna made a rolling motion with his hand at Beneff, encouraging him to get to the point.