by Trish Mercer
Mahrree did her best to not look at them, either. It was as if there were an invisible barrier around their property. That’s fine, she told herself. No one can throw in any more rocks and no more sheep would nibble . . . whatever it was she was about to plant.
By evening she was thoroughly exhausted but wanted to have something to show for her day’s labor instead of just wobbly rows of uneven grooves in the dirt. She took the envelope of mystery seeds and scattered them in a square section she designated as The Surprise Garden in the middle of the yard.
“All right, Mrs. Briters, both older and younger: I hope you’re proud of me.” She smoothed the dirt over the seeds and sat down beside them. Her yard didn’t look any different than it had a few minutes ago, but Mahrree knew it was. Something was hiding, waiting to burst open, beautiful and amazing. It was going to take time, and Mahrree had all the time in the world now.
When Perrin came home he evaluated the front garden. “Well, it’s different,” was all he could come up with. “Any messages?”
“No. I was out here all day, too, watching.”
Perrin sighed. “The road to the fort was rather quiet today. No Administrative or fort messengers. I was hoping maybe something might come from Brillen—” Discouragement clouded his eyes.
“Who knows what they were told, Perrin,” she reminded him. “Edgers were told the army took away your command. What news was sent to Brillen, Graeson, and Gari?”
“True, true. They’ll have only Thorne’s version. But they should know me well enough to realize that . . . Well, doesn’t matter anymore,” he lied.
There were no messages or even contact with anyone the next day, either. Or the next.
But that would change, because Mahrree had to go to the market.
Jaytsy volunteered to go with her. “At least people are allowed to talk to me.”
At the market Mahrree expected the worst, and both her and her daughter got it. People barely dared look at them.
At the baker’s Mahrree realized just how drastically her world had changed. As she and Jaytsy entered the shop immediately three women turned and left, leaving them alone with the baker’s daughter, a woman in her thirties who shifted anxiously behind the counter.
Mahrree put on her best smile. “My usual today, Bettie. And the same for Jaytsy, please.” She started to fish bits of silver out of her pocket and didn’t notice Bettie setting a sign up on the counter.
“What’s that?” Jaytsy snapped, and Mahrree looked up.
Closed for midday meal.
“You took your midday meal two hours ago!” Jaytsy sneered.
Bettie shrugged and glanced behind her to the ovens. That must have been a cue because a voice came, sounding stiff and rehearsed. “Bettie? Time for midday meal. Sorry it’s late today. Come right now.”
Jaytsy scoffed, but Mahrree said, “So I see how it will be. I still need my regular order, though. Are you above taking my silver?”
Bettie, still refusing to open her mouth, shrugged again. Her eyes darted all over the bakery, and even to the windows where other customers were waiting, refusing to come in.
“Look,” Mahrree said, “taking my silver doesn’t mean you’re violating any orders. Look around! There’s not even anyone to report us. No official has followed us, and I know when I’m being followed. Just give me our loaves, take my silver, and you’ll have done nothing wrong.”
“Bettie!” came the voice from the back more urgently. “Midday meal is getting COLD!”
“Just go,” Mahrree sighed. “I’ll help myself and I’ll leave our pay on the counter, all right?”
Bettie’s shoulders got a workout that day as she shrugged again, sent an apologetic look to Jaytsy, and scurried to the back room.
“Unbelievable!” Jaytsy declared as Mahrree gingerly made her way around the counter. She slapped the slip of silver loudly on the counter to make sure those whispering in the back heard it.
“They’re just scared, Jayts,” Mahrree said as she pulled the warm loaves off the shelves and put them in her cotton bag.
“She could have talked to me, at least! No, Mother. These people WANT TO BE COWARDS!” She shouted the last words, and spun to turn to send a severe look at the windows.
Those waiting there suddenly became interested in something on the road before them.
“It’s as if these people want to avoid us. After all you and Father have done for them!”
“Jayts, please,” Mahrree said as she finished filling her daughter’s bag with a week’s worth of bread. “I think your condition is making you brasher, which isn’t necessary or wise right now.” She reached into her pocket and slapped a second slip of silver on the counter. “A little extra for your troubles,” she called to the oven room. She came back around the counter and handed Jaytsy’s bag to her.
“I feel like a thief,” she mumbled.
“Thieves don’t pay TWICE AS MUCH for tasteless bread than it’s worth,” called Jaytsy loudly.
“Please, let’s just go,” Mahrree said, feeling as if she’d been stabbed in the chest. She knew people wouldn’t feel free to talk with her. She’d seen them skittishly rushing past their home for the past several days. But she thought the same easy conversations she’d had for decades in the shops wouldn’t change. Maybe people would be a bit quieter, or give her a quick smile of reassurance as they wrapped up her plucked chicken, but this—this was unlike anything she expected.
All Mahrree did was stand up and bellow to Edge, just as she had done years ago. She was merely spouting off again—
But this time had been different. She’d made missteps in the past, but this was clearly a miss of enormous proportions. A mis-leap off the edge of the world.
She blinked rapidly as she opened the door for her and Jaytsy to head for home.
Jaytsy noticed her fighting back the tears. “Forget them, Mother. They don’t deserve you,” she said as they stood on the side of road to rearrange their bags. The market was bustling in the early afternoon, and all of it tried to bustle in the opposite direction of Mrs. Shin and Mrs. Briter.
“I guess I’m just surprised,” Mahrree murmured as another two women whose children she used to teach took a circular route around her. “This has always been such a nice village—”
“A nice village?!” Jaytsy nearly wailed.
A dozen people trying to get around them moved even faster.
Mahrree stared at her daughter in surprise.
“A nice village!” Jaytsy announced sarcastically, glaring at a few more dozen who stopped in their tracks to see what Shin was erupting this time.
“That’s what my mother just declared: Edge has always been such a nice village. And I wonder,” Jaytsy said, her voice booming as far as her father’s as she addressed everyone who had ears, “exactly what village is Mahrree Shin remembering?”
People leaked out of market fronts to cluster in whispering groups.
Now Mahrree knew how her family must have felt when she stood up at the amphitheater: complete dread.
“Jaytsy, I really don’t think—”
Mrs. Briter gently but firmly brushed her mother’s hand away. “Surely Mahrree Shin remembers this village before it turned on itself to steal goods from those who died from the pox! Surely she remembers a village that appreciated its commander—”
Mahrree bit her lower lip and took a step back from her daughter. She’d seen that look before, in Perrin’s face. Jaytsy Shin Briter had something to say, and everyone was going to hear it.
Mahrree hadn’t realized before how much Jaytsy favored Perrin. Her dark brown eyes were wide with fury and her voice developed an authoritative quality that insisted everyone stop what they were doing and listen. Jaytsy carried the blood of the greatest officers the world had ever seen. Couple that with the fact that the generals’ descendant was also in the throes of expecting a baby, and it was a very dangerous combination indeed.
Mahrree took another protective step back. “Oh,
dear . . .”
“—A commander who, on more occasions than you will ever know, put his life on the line to defend each one of you!” Jaytsy bellowed to the rapt and growing audience.
A few women broke away from the crowd and trotted purposefully down an alley.
Mahrree noticed but Jaytsy didn’t, or she didn’t care.
“And this is how you repay the Shins for their years of sacrifice and dedication? By ignoring them? Shunning them? If Perrin Shin chooses to resign from the army because twenty-five years of risking his life is enough, then this nice village should be throwing him a celebration of thanks! They should be lining up to shake his hand for the many sleepless nights and bloodied blades and terrors he faced for them! They should be hugging his wife who tolerated their rotten sons and taught them when no one else in the village wanted anything to do with them! A nice village? I’m looking but I’m just . . . not . . . seeing . . . it!”
Mahrree’s fists were clutched near her face in nervous fascination. Jaytsy would have been marvelous on the platform, Mahrree thought fleetingly. But right now, right here, was not good.
In her peripheral vision Mahrree kept an eye on the growing crowd that was stunned silent. Villagers had subtly rearranged themselves, men in some groups, women in others. A few more women had slinked away and now Mahrree saw why: Chief Barnie was being reluctantly led to the market by a gaggle of outraged women.
Interestingly, none of the men had run to report on a disturbance in the market, likely because they knew of Jaytsy’s condition too well. None of those men wanted to be on the receiving side of a female version of Perrin Shin coupled with the fervor of a soon-to-be-mother.
Now Jaytsy was shouting about cowardice, and a few more men hugged tighter to the buildings behind them.
“Edgers never had to be brave!” Jaytsy continued, turning in place to address several hundred people now in a full circle and a safe distance away from her. “You know why? You counted on Perrin Shin to face the dangers for you! Only a handful of Edgers ever joined the army here, hoping instead that others would come save you. And Perrin and Mahrree Shin did exactly that! When this village was starving, my parents risked everything in the world just to bring you wheat and dried beef. We were attacked on the road! My grandparents were later killed!
“And what did this nice village do when Perrin Shin suffered? When his wife had to struggle with a traumatized man? When his children were terrified to stay in their home? Why, this nice village talked about the Shin family behind their backs! Oh, don’t look so surprised. I heard the rumors. You really think we didn’t know? Did you ever come by and ask how you could help? Did you ever lend a shoulder for any of us to cry on? Not that I remember! We recovered without the help of this nice village.
“And then Perrin Shin violated his probation and every rule in the army book to attack the Guarders in Moorland. Have you been threatened lately? I didn’t think so! Your greatest enemy blown out of the world by my father! My parents have changed your entire village for the better. But when they have a personal crisis, when the world turns on them, where is this nice village? The Creator knows I certainly don’t see one. I see selfish cowards—all of you!”
Mahrree exhaled, realizing she’d been holding her breath for far too long.
Barnie and the cluster of women had stopped at the perimeter of the circle to hear Jaytsy’s tirade. One woman was frantically taking notes.
Mahrree stepped up to her daughter and gently took her arm. “Jaytsy, well said. I think you’re done—”
Mrs. Briter’s chest heaved furiously as she turned her glare on Chief Barnie. Two women were pushing him into the open space, and his stuttering steps made it obvious he would rather have been anywhere else in the world right then.
“Mrs. Briter?” He cleared his throat and firmed his stance.
Jaytsy folded her arms defiantly in a Perrin-like manner, and Mahrree massaged her cheeks. If she weren’t so worried as to what might happen next she would’ve been bursting with pride.
“Yes?” Jaytsy said with so much malice that Mahrree marveled how Barnie still stood erect.
“Do we have a problem?” Barnie timidly asked.
“She’s debating!” a woman shouted from the concealing safety of the crowd. “There’s laws against that!”
Edgers erupted into whispered discussions, and Mahrree saw the groups of men try to blend into each other to keep from being an obvious target.
The women, however, were far less protective. Anyone who thought women were softer, or calmer, or gentler had obviously never visited Edge: home of vindictive females.
Edge didn’t seem to be such a nice village anymore.
Mahrree watched her daughter, praying her response would be appropriate.
Jaytsy’s hands moved to her hips. “A debate?” she shouted. “Barnie, do you see anyone challenging me? Talking back?”
The crowd couldn’t get any flatter as Barnie obediently glanced around. He shook his head.
“That’s right. Two people are needed for a debate. I’m just . . . delivering a free history lesson!”
That did it. Mahrree couldn’t hold it in anymore. She burst into a grin which she quickly covered with her hand.
None of the villagers dared move a muscle. Even the angry knot of women glanced at each other hoping one of them could think of what to say next.
“Now,” Jaytsy began as she bent down to pick up her bread bag from the ground. She didn’t move like an expecting woman but more like a general retrieving his dropped sword. “My mother and I will be shopping here twice a week when the shops open, and if anyone here has a problem with that, I suggest you arrive after we leave. Mother? We need to start dinner.”
And Mrs. Briter marched briskly away. The crowd was so eager to separate for her to pass that a few feet were trampled on.
Mrs. Shin followed quickly, trying to keep down her smile of pride until they passed the last of the stunned shoppers.
---
Perrin stared at his daughter. “‘I’m delivering a history lesson?’ You really said that?”
“Shouted, actually.” Jaytsy sat proudly at the table sorting dried beans with an air of well-deserved superiority.
Deck shook his head while Peto burst out laughing.
Mahrree hadn’t stopped beaming since they left the market. “They were stunned silent! No one dared follow us home.”
Perrin sat down slowly next to Jaytsy. “I don’t know whether to congratulate you or berate you for throwing yourself into the same pit as the rest of us. You realize what you’ve done, don’t you?”
She stopped sorting to face him. “I stood up for my family when no one else would. I said what people needed to hear—”
“And the way this village gossips, it’s been heard by everyone by now!” Peto grinned.
Deck exhaled worriedly.
“But Jayts,” Perrin continued, “not to discount your remarkable defense of our family, you may have done all of us more harm than good. If you think Genev’s not going to add you and Deck to the shunned list, I have to tell you—”
“I don’t care!” Jaytsy declared. “I belong with you on that list.”
“But does your husband?” Perrin gestured to Deck.
Deck nodded. “Wherever Jaytsy belongs, I belong.”
Peto patted him on the back.
Perrin sighed, picked up a bean and analyzed it. “I was rather counting on the two of you still having freedom in this village.”
“We don’t, Father,” Jaytsy snapped. “And never did. Guilt by association. We already were on that list in everyone’s minds. I just made sure we were there for a good reason.”
Perrin dropped the bean. “I suppose you’re right.” He put his hand on top of hers. “Thank you, Jayts. My only regret is that I didn’t get to witness it myself. I feel better knowing the truth was spoken. What happens next really doesn’t matter. It’s out there.”
---
That evening Peto said good
night to his parents and willingly went straight to his room after dinner, partly because he was exhausted from moving bales of hay for Deck.
He blamed that on his father. Two days ago he made Peto stand in front of him, wearing only his undershorts, while Perrin evaluated his development. Shem had said the kickball scouts were worse than the army, but as Peto stood at attention while his father prodded and jabbed his muscles, he couldn’t see how this was any better.
Then again, former General Shin didn’t have an army to beef up anymore so he was pouring all of his attention on his son.
“Seems I’ve been neglecting your development, Peto. I apologize for that,” Perrin said as he held his shoulders and shook them violently for no apparent reason.
“Did I ever complain?” Peto asked. “Until now? They don’t come off, if that’s what you’re trying to figure out.”
“Just evaluating your muscle tone. Your legs are well developed—no surprise there—but your upper body could use some filling out. You’re at the perfect age for doing so, and I have just the activity to firm you up through here. And here. And here . . .”
And so Peto was assigned to moving bales of hay which, he had to admit, was doing something to his muscles. It made them scream.
But he willingly went to bed also because he didn’t want to see his parents watching him again.
It was painful. His mother gave him looks of pity, apology, and worry, while his father smiled drearily at him with ever increasing lines around his eyes. They both felt guilty, and he felt just a little bit better about things because of that.
But then he felt even worse for them.
Edge had changed. Actually, it had been changing for several years, but it finally reached a point where that change was obvious.
However, the shock of the change was rather invigorating, he decided. Almost adventurous, even though it left him feeling as if he was standing on top of a tall fence, unsure which way to go, and worried that he might not be able to balance up there for too long. He found himself worrying more and more about his parents each day rather than about his future.