by Trish Mercer
“One where I stand above him and spit on his head?” Thorne asked.
“Bucketfuls,” Mal promised.
---
Knock-knock . . . knock-knock-knock.
Wonderful, Perrin sighed to himself. He’s mobile.
He stretched his fingers before saying, a bit drearily, “Come in.”
The door opened not too slowly, not too quickly, and there stood a pale Captain Thorne.
“Should you be up and in uniform?” Perrin asked, hoping against hope the captain was disobeying the surgeon’s orders. But on his desk was the report of which men were fit to return to duty that day, and Thorne was on the top. Apparently Stitch was as eager to release him as Perrin was that he should stay in the hospital wing.
“I am, sir!” Thorne said proudly. “I need to take it easy still, but I promise it won’t affect any of my performance, sir.”
Which performance? Perrin nearly said out loud. The one where you pretend to be an obedient and diligent officer? Or the one where you try to find ways to undermine me?
“I’m sure you won’t, Captain,” he said, turning again to the work on his desk.
“Sir?” Thorne ventured, “May I say something?”
Perrin gritted his teeth and looked up. “Of course, Captain.”
“About Moorland—”
Don’t say it, Perrin thought to himself. Don’t you dare thank me for saving you from that Guarder. Don’t you dare remind me—
“I think you made the correct decision, sir,” Thorne said. “Breaking your probation. Your presence secured our victory. The world is safer because of you.”
Oh, the little manipulator was clever. Now Perrin was going to have to say the words. There was no other response he could offer that would be appropriate.
“Thank you, Captain,” Perrin nearly choked.
“I’m certain, sir, that when the garrison responds to our success, they’ll be cognizant of the fact that you had no other alternative but to behave in the manner that the situation demanded,” said Thorne in fluent army speak. “I even wrote to my father and grandfather affirming that, sir.”
Oh, the words had to be said again!
“Thank you,” Perrin said as dully as he dared. “Dismissed.”
---
Later that day a decision from Idumea came in the form of a little man in a red messenger suit. He brought the news that General Qayin Thorne was on his way to personally congratulate the Fort at Edge on the success of the offensive.
Everyone in the forward command office had stood in silent terror at the news.
Five seconds later every man except Colonel Shin was running frantically down the stairs to deliver to the word that the fort needed to be prepared for an official visit the next day.
Perrin merely nodded at the message and folded it again. “Well, then. Soon we’ll see, won’t we,” he murmured to himself. “Will I be a general, a lieutenant, or a guard at the Edge of Idumea estates? It’ll only be for a year, until we have proof that all of the Guarders are gone, and the forts are irrelevant. Maybe.”
Over dinner Perrin broke the news to his family.
“Time to get a new jacket, Father?” Peto said with a grin.
Mahrree sighed. “Maybe one with a single lieutenant’s braid?”
“They wouldn’t do that to him!” Peto declared. “How could they? And why else would General Thorne come all this way?”
“To check on his son, I think,” Perrin said. “Make sure he’s healing well, that everything else is progressing as he thinks it should.” He glanced at his daughter who had stopped eating.
“Well,” Mahrree said decisively. “We just won’t fret about it! Nothing we can do. We’ll just accept what happens, and trust in the Creator. Yes. Fine. Will be a pleasant visit. No doubt.”
“Very convincing, Mahrree.”
---
Colonel Shin was ready the next day for the arrival of General Thorne. Everyone was ready. The fort was spotless. Even the dirt on the stable floors had been smartly raked. The men were nervous, which made them each stand a little taller. Captain Thorne was so agitated in the command tower that when Zenos accidentally dropped the long knife he used to pry open a stuck window, Lemuel drew his sword in readiness.
Perrin rather enjoyed it all.
He’d never been on this side before. He didn’t really care about what would happen that day, and found that thought surprisingly freeing. He’d waited before for the worst the hierarchy could dish out. And the worst was—well, while the past year had been bad, it was only temporary. He realized he could handle anything temporarily.
He sat serenely at his desk reviewing reports, not even looking out the window like the tense corporal who was filing the papers. Perrin was sure the young man would alert him when someone was coming, and he was right. He hardly recognized the high-pitched squeak as human until he looked up at the scared soldier.
“Blue banner, sir! Far south tower. He’s been sighted approaching Edge!”
Perrin nodded sedately. “Good. Now gather up all the papers you dropped and re-file them please. We still have a bit of time.”
With another squeak of compliance the soldier was on the floor.
A few moments later Captain Thorne stood at the door. “Sir?”
“You’d like to meet your father at the gate, Captain?”
“Yes sir, if you don’t mind?”
The colonel shrugged. “Bring him up here when he’s done with his inspection. I’ve got a few things to wrap up first.” He didn’t add, Before I’m demoted and you’re placed in command over me.
Perrin didn’t need any warning to know when General Thorne arrived at the command tower a while later. The sound of scuffling boots and frantic calls for “Attention!” were heard throughout the building. Perrin slowly rose from his desk, walked casually to the door of his office, and stood in the forward command office just as General Thorne jogged up the stairs.
He gave Colonel Shin a surprisingly warm and generous smile. Perrin concluded that Qayin must have practiced it at The Dinner two moons ago.
“Perrin, wonderful to see you again! This place is a marvel. Your father didn’t do it justice in his descriptions. Absolutely amazing. We should be replicating this fort design all over the world.”
With a hand gloved in black, General Thorne pumped Colonel Shin’s hand vigorously, and Perrin wondered for a moment, who was this cheerful man wearing Qayin Thorne’s face and uniform? Only a year ago he held a sword to Perrin’s head. The look in his eyes at that time begged for any reason to thrust.
Perrin put on his Dinner smile as well. “General, I hope your trip up here was pleasant. Good time of year to be traveling.”
“Very pleasant, thank you.” He continued to smile in a manner that made Perrin think of cheese left out in the sun: hard and a bit sweaty. “High General Cush was hoping to accompany me, but he’s been unwell. His health has been slowing him down, but he sends his regards. Perrin, I never realized how remarkable the scenery here is. Up close the mountains are almost worth looking at. No wonder Lemuel was eager to return. He looks good and his side is healing nicely. Been treated well here, I can see. We could hardly keep him in Idumea. I suppose he finds the north most appealing.”
Captain Thorne stood behind his father, still stiffly at attention but beaming.
“Well,” Perrin tried to think of the best way to put it, “Edge wouldn’t be the same without him, sir.” Something caught his eye, just above General Thorne’s name patch. It was a pin of gold, about half the size of his thumb, the shape of which stopped Perrin from breathing.
The general noticed. “Beautiful craftsmanship, isn’t it? Best goldsmith in Idumea made it. Mal has commissioned a few more to be presented to all future generals in the army.”
His next sentence was completely unnecessary.
“It’s a mountain lion.”
Perrin barely nodded as he stared at the dangling object which was the outline of a prowling mount
ain lion. Its front paw was raised in anticipation, its shoulders hunched in the same posture of The Cat when he was about to pounce on a floating piece of fluff.
“Interesting,” he said, hoping he sounded uninterested.
Qayin continued his mucky cheese smile. “A symbol, to remind the citizenry.” His voice was far too jovial, and it was clear he wasn’t used to doing jovial. “After all, mountain lions are known for their courage, their tenacity—”
Their ability to sneak up and bite your throat out, Perrin supplied to himself. He glanced behind Thorne to see Zenos standing at the top of the stairs, his eyes slightly narrowed in uneasiness.
“—fitting reminders for the world that the Army of Idumea is here to protect their interests,” Qayin finished.
Perrin heard the multiple layers of meaning in Thorne’s proclamation. “How interesting,” he said again.
General Thorne slapped him genially on the back.
“And gloves now, too, sir?” Perrin asked as he watched Thorne meticulously pull off the thin, form-fitting black gloves. Perhaps he wore them only for patting Perrin on the back.
“Of course!” Qayin said, again with too much jolliness. “Gives a more complete look to the uniform and keeps one’s hands clean.”
From what kind of filth? Perrin nearly blurted.
Qayin Thorne pocketed his gloves, after fastidiously folding them. “Let’s go sit down in your office, Perrin. We have lots to talk about. Captain Thorne, please join us.”
“Yes, sir!” the captain chirped.
Perrin held out his arm for the two Thornes to go into his office. One brief facial tic told Zenos to sit down at the large front desk and be ready for anything. The cotton was still in the bookshelf, so eavesdropping would be easy. Colonel Shin followed the Thornes into the office and shut the door.
Zenos sat down at the large desk, motioned to the other soldiers to get back to work, then leaned back in the chair, picked up a manual whose title he wouldn’t remember later, and rocked the chair back to lean against the wall underneath Hycymum’s purple and yellow Edge banner.
---
Mahrree could hardly concentrate on school that day. Twice one of her students set fire to another student’s trouser leg and she didn’t notice until he did a stomping dance in the aisle.
Peto worriedly watched his mother during midday meal. He couldn’t concentrate either, especially once they saw the blue banner go up at the tower nearest the school.
“Think he’s going to be in trouble?” Peto asked.
“He’s always in trouble,” Mahrree muttered as she fussed with her sandwich.
When they left the school in a fast march home, Jaytsy caught up to them. “Any news yet?”
“No,” Mahrree said. “But I don’t expect any until dinner.”
“Or maybe earlier?” Jaytsy said as they turned on the alleyway to the house.
Perrin’s latest horse, a white gelding, was tethered to the fence.
Mahrree stopped.
She had a habit of running through her mind every scenario she could imagine, then anticipating how she’d react when it happened. Yet it always seemed to be the unanticipated option that occurred, leaving her shocked at the outcome despite her hours of mental preparation. Some day she would learn to quit planning ahead. No scenario that she’d anticipated had him home early.
She started walking again. “Maybe he’s just there to check on The Cat.”
“Of course,” Peto said dismally.
When they entered the kitchen, Perrin turned partially in surprise, his back still to them.
“Oh, I thought you’d still be a few minutes.”
“Why are you here?” Mahrree asked, her tone full of dread.
“To check on The Cat,” he told her.
“Uh-huh,” Peto said.
“Well, I got one right,” Mahrree said more to herself. “No really, why?”
Perrin’s arm tried to drop subtly to his side, and a small mew fell to the ground. His forced smile was outlined in pain as The Cat climbed back up his trouser’s leg. “I have news, and I need to go back to the fort soon. I just needed to get . . . an early dinner.”
As the family sat down apprehensively at the table, Peto bounced in his chair. “Anything about Idumea?”
“Yes,” Perrin said. “We’re not going there.” A purring sound began from his lap.
Mahrree and Jaytsy sighed in relief.
Peto just sighed.
“I’ve not been promoted to general,” Perrin continued, “nor have I been demoted. It seems the army, upon the advice of the Administrators, has decided that before a colonel can be promoted to general he must serve as a full colonel for three years, unless there are extenuating circumstances, which circumstances have yet, of course, to be determined. In any case, I have nearly two more years until I’m eligible to become a general.”
“That’s trash!” Peto yelled.
“That’s politics,” Perrin clarified. “Same thing, though.”
Mahrree breathed easier every moment.
“There’s more,” he added with a smile. “My probation has been lifted. I am to be awarded a new medal for services above and beyond the call of duty, or something wordy like that. I get another Officer of the Year proclamation which I’ll just slide next to the other ones on the shelf. And—” he paused for effect, “—tonight the fort is to be officially renamed. That’s why I’m here now. I need to change into my dress uniform although I don’t really see the need. You all need to be dressed up as well. Sorry.”
“Renamed?” Mahrree asked.
“Yes,” he sighed. “Fort Shin.”
“So they’re promoting the fort instead of you?” Jaytsy clarified.
“You’re getting smarter every day, Jayts,” Perrin pointed at her. “This way I’m ‘honored’ without anyone having to actually do, concede, admit, sacrifice, or change anything significant. They just tack a few meaningless letters up on a wall, some self-important men say some forgettable words, a few people cheer without knowing why but do so because it’s expected, and then everyone decides they’re satisfied. That, Peto, is politics.”
“Well, I’m satisfied!” Mahrree said, putting her head on the table in relief. She lifted it back up. “So nothing’s really changed, has it?”
“Well, there’s a new symbol for the generals,” Perrin said, trying not to clench his teeth. “Thorne wore it proudly on his uniform just about his name patch. A pin in the shape of a mountain lion.”
“What, a big kitty cat?” Peto sneered. “Ooh, scary!”
Mahrree didn’t say anything, except met her husband’s careful gaze that said much more.
Jaytsy looked nervously at her parents.
“Some believe that cats are highly underrated,” Perrin told his children. He and Mahrree had never told them of Qayin Thorne admiring a cat’s ability to torment a wounded falcon trapped in a barn, nor that he used the story to explain to Shem the way Guarders saw the world. “And a mountain lion? There’s no deadlier animal, Peto. It can sneak up behind you and take you out with one swat of its claws and one bite of its jaws. You shouldn’t trust it, even when its purring.
“There is something more,” Perrin continued. “There’s no sign of Guarder activity anywhere. Not even in Trades or the gold mine. They must have moved up north, all of them. General Thorne has been watching, but so far—nothing. We may have finally dealt them a death blow, once and for all.”
Mahrree was surprised at his tone—it was much heavier than she expected. Just a few nights ago he was bouncing happily like a teenage boy in a knife shop, but something today had sucked all of the potential joy out of him. She was just about to ask what was wrong when Peto spoke.
“So what will they need any generals for? Or even an army?”
“Well, Peto,” Mahrree started when she realized some of her husband’s old brooding had returned, “if we no longer have an enemy to fight, then your father can go on and do whatever he wants to.”
“Would they just get rid of the forts?” Peto said, shocked.
Perrin finally sighed. “I spoke to General Thorne about that. I suggested that if, in a year, there’s no sign of Guarders that maybe we can relax a few things, reduce the army, maybe even let people explore the forests and beyond.”
Jaytsy sat up taller. “Why . . . that’d be amazing!”
Her father only shrugged at that. “Yes, it would be. But that’s not how Thorne and Cush and the garrison see things.”
Mahrree squirmed in her chair, discouraged to see her husband so low again. “Why? What did Qayin Thorne say?”
Perrin looked up at her, his eyes clouded. “He said, ‘Why in the world’—and he used language a bit uglier than that, but I promised I wouldn’t use that word in the house again—‘Why would we want to do anything to reduce the army and its influence?’ Then he said something that I don’t believe, but apparently everyone in the garrison does: ‘Colonel Shin, there are always more enemies.’”
Mahrree felt something inside recoil, and noticed the worried looks in her children’s faces as well. Perplexed, she asked, “But Perrin . . . what would that other enemy be?”
He shook his head slowly. “I guess that’s the real question now, isn’t it? Who are the mountain lions stalking today?”
---
Knock-knock . . . knock-knock-knock.
Perrin looked up at the roof and wondered how hard it’d be to construct an escape hatch. He could reach it if he stood on his desk.