by Trish Mercer
Something on the other side of the canyon caught Peto’s eye. In a vertical crevice of stone, white water rushed between the trees, bouncing and falling in the narrow channel down to the river, now half a mile below them.
“Shem,” he called. “What’s that where the water is falling?”
Shem turned in his saddle. “Get ready for this: it’s called a waterfall.”
“A waterfall? No, seriously. What’s it called?”
Barb laughed behind him. “It’s true, Peto. It’s called a waterfall. It’s also in that book I mentioned, called a dictionary. It even has pictures, and one will be waiting at your new home.”
“Dictionary. The bizarre words these people come up with,” Peto muttered. “Waterfall. What else new are we going to see?”
“Well,” Shem called back, “we follow these switchbacks until we’re three and a half miles into the canyon, then we reach a high meadow in the saddle between those two peaks.” He pointed north in the direction of two craggy, snow-covered peaks.
“Meh-doe?”
“You’ll see, Peto,” Shem promised.
“Meadow!” Perrin exclaimed. “I remember Beneff saying that word during our planning meeting about the attack on Moorland.”
“That’s right,” Shem said. “There’s your proof that he was from Salem. No one in the world has a word like that, because there are no meadows in the world.”
“Amazing!” Perrin breathed.
“We don’t go over the peaks, do we?” asked Deck nervously.
“No, just between them.”
“Mahrree,” Barb called up to her, “you should come back here in Weeding Season. Wildflowers cover the grasses all the way to the trees. Your daughter told me you recently took up gardening.”
“You know, wildflowers sound interesting,” Mahrree said. “They don’t require any straight rows or weeding, right?”
A little ways down the trail Shem slowed his horse and turned in the saddle. An odd smile was on his face.
“Uh-oh,” Perrin said as their horses neared. “He’s going to confess another lie he’s told, and the next words out of his mouth will be, ‘Remember that one time . . .’”
Everyone chuckled as Shem bobbed his head sheepishly. “Well, at least you noticed the warning. Perrin, remember that one time—”
Now everyone laughed, even though Shem put a finger to his lips to shush them. He craned his neck to peer into an area behind the trees they couldn’t yet see, then waved at them to quiet down.
“Anyway,” Shem said, “Perrin, the night that Edge turned on itself and burned and looted until the middle of the night, you and I sat talking in your office for a while.”
“Yes . . .” Perrin said slowly.
“At one point you started musing on the possibility of some of Terryp’s mythical animals being real.”
“Go on . . .”
“You mentioned wapiti, zebras, and I think elephants that night. I suggested that they were very far away. Well, I lied about one of them being very far away.” He beckoned to them to follow.
Perrin couldn’t kick Clark fast enough, and when he reached a clearing, he reined his horse to a sharp halt.
Mahrree gasped. “A . . . a . . .” was all she could stammer.
At least Perrin was able to get out, “Shem! Is that a . . . a . . .”
Shem grinned as Peto, Deck, and Jaytsy, between Barb and Jothan, reached the view.
“It’s called an elk,” Shem said in low tones so as to not alarm the animal that fed less than twenty paces away. “That one’s a bull. Too bad you’re not seeing him with his full antlers. He recently shed them. It took the first Salemites a few moons to realize that the large deer that they named elk were actually Terryp’s—”
“Wapiti!” Perrin cried, and the elk lifted his head to look at him. “Shh, shh, I know!” he shushed himself, but not very quietly.
“They’re real!” Mahrree would have squealed if she wasn’t breathless.
Peto cocked his head. “It’s pretty big,” he said as the animal took another mouthful of grasses and chewed casually, already bored with his audience. “But not as big as Terryp suggested. How many people can ride it?”
Shem chuckled. “None! Terryp took a few creative measures in his stories.”
“He’s beautiful, though,” Jaytsy said, keeping a heavy hand on The Cat whose ears pricked with interest.
“And delicious,” Shem said.
Deck’s mouth fell open. “You eat them? Aren’t they rare?”
“Hardly. I’m sorry you missed the herd. There’s a meadow past that canyon where about a thousand of them come to feed on the grasses in Raining Season. Warm springs in the area keep the snow melted.”
“Wapiti!” Perrin whispered again, and Mahrree felt like crying.
Jothan had dismounted and was looking around on the ground. “Saw them when I came down a few weeks ago . . . ah, here we are.” He pulled up a large branch. Except it wasn’t a branch.
Perrin emitted a tiny, excited whimper.
Jothan held up the branch, as tall as him. “Now, that’s what I call a rack.” He bent down and picked up its match.
Deck squinted. “What exactly is that?”
“The antlers,” Jothan announced. His massive arms twisted the antlers into proper position and held them suspended behind his head to show how they would have been on the bull.
“Whoa,” Peto whispered. “Changed my mind. That is big. And you couldn’t ride it without being gored.”
Mahrree and Jaytsy could only nod.
Perrin shook his head in appreciation. “I grew up loving the stories of the wapiti, like giant deer. And they’re real! Amazing! I think that’s going to be my most used word today. But I don’t think you could use the antlers to steer,” he added in a faraway tone.
Surprised by that strange theory, Mahrree twisted around to look at him, but Perrin just smiled in contentment at the elk chewing lazily.
Jothan set the antlers back on the ground. “Some people like to use these in their houses to hang coats on.”
“Hang coats on!” Perrin breathed.
Shem clucked his horse. “Still quite a ways to go, and more animals to see, I’m sure.”
The Shins reluctantly followed Shem, and the bull elk merely glanced their way as he pulled up more grasses.
“Shem,” Perrin called up to him. “If wapiti are real . . .”
Mahrree knew what he was wondering. Often Perrin had reflected with longing about certain of Terryp’s mythological animals. Which, obviously, weren’t all mythological—
“If wapiti are real,” she repeated, “then . . .”
Shem turned in his saddle. “I know where you’re going with this. That night I mentioned, Perrin also speculated about zebras. And so you’ll want to know—does Salem have zebras?”
Perrin nodded with the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old.
“No, I’m sorry. No zebras.”
“Shem!” Jothan called curtly. “Tell him what you do know.”
“No, we won’t see zebras, but Perrin,” he raised his eyebrows, “they do exist.”
“And elephants?” Mahrree cried.
Shem laughed. “And elephants, and monkeys, and gazelles, and lions, and apes, and a few other animals you don’t even know about and Terryp couldn’t imagine either!”
“In Salem?” Peto asked eagerly.
“No, much further away,” Shem said. “But in Salem we have drawings and paintings of them—full color.”
Jothan, the scientist’s son, spoke up. “Some years ago we sent an expedition to the far west and south, well beyond Terryp’s ruins. It took them two full seasons to travel, but they found enormous lands filled with all those animals. Our artists made detailed paintings, and our scientists recorded their behavior. Those who created Terryp’s ruins must have sent their own scouts to the far southwest as well. Then our scouts continued on and came to another sea.”
“That’s incredible!” Deck gasped.
/> Mahrree was speechless.
“So, this land . . . another sea . . . is there, is there . . .” Perrin faltered, too stunned to know how to continue.
“Yes?” Shem encouraged cheerfully. “Spit it out.”
Perrin could only shake his stunned head.
“So Jothan, your scouts weren’t like ours, sitting on the edges of the unknown, making up stories, then coming back terrified?” Jaytsy asked.
“Not at all,” Jothan said, “We don’t fear the unknown. We go out and shake its hand and ask it all the questions we can think of.”
“A map!” Perrin finally got it out. “Is there a map?”
“We’ll get you one,” Jothan promised. “Several, even. The world is far, far larger than anyone in Idumea ever imagined.”
“What color were they?” Perrin burst out. “Shem, the zebras?”
“Black and white!” Shem told him.
“I knew it!” Perrin squeezed his wife happily. “Brown and beige, was what you thought. Ha!”
Mahrree giggled. “Well how was I supposed to know?”
Shem released a huge sigh. “Oh, I’ve been waiting to tell you that one for a while. That night I wanted so much to tell you—” He stopped, and Mahrree, feeling Perrin tense up, suspected that they’d had a quiet discussion which shouldn’t be shouted about right now.
“I wanted to tell you that all of those animals were real,” Shem tried again. “And you were right about zebras being black and white. Perrin, you’ve been right about so many things but you just didn’t know it.”
“I know now,” he smiled. “Did any of your scouts try riding the zebras?”
“Not successfully,” Shem said. “They’re smaller than our horses, behaved more like donkeys, and were quite alarmed that these strange, two-legged creatures tried to climb on their backs. You’d have an easier time on a wapiti. The elephants, on the other hand, may have been possible to ride, but they didn’t dare try to climb any.”
Mahrree twisted to look behind Perrin. “Jothan, that other sea you mentioned—is it the same as the one we have to the east? Did your scouts go all around the world?”
“Is that possible?” Peto asked.
Jothan shrugged. “We don’t know—yet. We’re planning another expedition to find out. They’re looking for men and women to go all the way to the western shore, build boats, then sail on to who knows what end.”
Mahrree could feel Perrin’s breathing become faster in her ear.
She twisted in the saddle again. “No! Don’t even think it.”
But Perrin was looking past her to Peto.
Mahrree turned to him. “And not you either, Peto Shin!”
“Another sea . . . I never even saw our sea,” Peto said.
“Perrin,” said Jothan gently, “you wouldn’t be allowed to go.”
“Why not? I’m in as good shape as—”
“No married men are allowed to go,” Jothan said. “Only single men and women whose families don’t require their support. Our leaders expect the expedition to be gone as long as three years.”
“Peto, please get that look off your face,” Mahrree insisted.
“I don’t think I’m brave enough to go, Mother, so don’t worry,” Peto said. “Still, it’s incredible to think about, isn’t it?”
Deck nodded.
Jaytsy looked up at him. “Would you have wanted to go?”
“No way. I think becoming a father will be adventure enough.”
“Shem,” Perrin called up to him. “What about you?”
“I’ve had enough excitement away from Salem for a lifetime. I’m hoping for another kind of adventure.” He glanced at Deck.
They rode again in silence, lost in thought—
Well, Mahrree knew what Perrin’s thoughts were, because every now and then he’d murmur, “Wapiti!” and “Black and white!” and “Amazing!”
At one point he whispered into her ear, “Mahrree, I have no idea what’s ahead of us, or how long this journey may be, or what may be at the end of it, but this I do know: today, I have seen a real wapiti! Today, I don’t care if the Salemites have stolen us away to be slaves in their fields, or that they really are so desperate for their daughters that they want to use our son as a stud—”
Mahrree snickered so loudly that Peto turned around in his saddle and frowned at them in worry.
“—because Mahrree,” Perrin chuckled in her ear, “today I’ve seen wapiti, and I know that others have seen zebras and elephants!”
After a while the path rose again and leveled out at a large field.
Peto asked, “What happened to all the trees?”
“This is the meadow I mentioned,” Shem explained. “Very few trees. Just grasses. And a glacial lake. And wildflowers in Weeding Season. Ah, Peto—so much to show you!”
Again Mahrree was at a loss for descriptive enough words. They’d entered a new little world, dropped on top of the mountains.
“A glacier carved this, a very long time ago,” Jothan explained, which was the worst explanation the Shins had ever heard, because it didn’t explain anything whatsoever.
“A glay-shur?” Perrin wondered.
“It’ll be in that word book, right?” Mahrree guessed.
Barb laughed. “It will be. Jothan, you didn’t give them four weeks of lessons, so quit confusing these poor people.”
“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckled apologetically.
The gently curved little valley sat nestled in between several peaks, a swath of bright green poking up through the melting snows in between the gray and brown rock. Scattered within the meadow were clumps of trees and boulders. The entire area was barely a quarter of a mile in width and maybe half a mile long, but it felt like an enormous haven.
“Do you think a glay-shur is a giant animal?” Mahrree whispered to Perrin, trying to imagine what cut this out of the mountain.
“Don’t ask me,” he whispered back. “I’ve lost the ability to think properly. Must be the air. Feels thinner up here. I think we’re running out of it.”
“Probably the glay-shur ate it,” Mahrree murmured, and the two of them giggled like children.
“Along with the trail,” Perrin whispered. “I’ve lost it. How does Shem know where to go?”
“What are you two whispering about up there?” Jaytsy called up.
“We have no idea,” Mahrree called back, “about anything!”
Suddenly two men appeared ahead of Shem.
Perrin gripped Mahrree’s waist tighter, until he realized that they were dressed like Jothan.
“Shem Zenos!” called one of the men. “What are you doing here? I know some people who are going to be very surprised to see you on the trail.”
“Change of plans, Winter. I’m coming home,” he announced.
The two men—and Mahrree was surprised to realize that they were middle-aged—broke into smiles.
Perrin’s grip on Mahrree relaxed, but behind her he still tensed.
“Have they finally found you out?” asked the other man.
“Actually, Varteeya, they have,” Shem said soberly, and the men’s smiles vanished. “It was as messy as we feared,” Shem reined his horse to a halt, “but so far everyone seems to be safe.”
“Gleace has been worried,” Winter said. “We heard from the forward scout about your night. But,” he paused and quickly counted the riders behind him, “it looks like we were successful. Welcome to our fort, Colonel Shin and family! I mean, Mr. Shin.”
“Fort?” Perrin asked, glancing around at nothing but trees, boulders, and stretches of snow.
Varteeya beamed. “I was hoping I would be on duty when you arrived. I wanted to get your opinion on what we’ve created here. In case any Idumeans are ever successful in making it this far, we wanted to be sure to see them first and send word ahead.”
Winter beckoned, his grin just as eager. “We’ll get you fresh horses. It’s a good thing we have an extra horse on hand.” He winced at
Clark, who was beginning to show his exhaustion.
“Where are we going?” Mahrree whispered to Perrin. With a sudden pang of regret she realized that they were getting her a horse, and she’d no longer be able to whisper silly nothings with her husband. It took her nineteen years of marriage to realize that yes, she actually did like riding with him.
He held her tighter and whispered, “Maybe they’re leading us into the glay-shur?”
The men stepped to the right and led them to . . . a stand of trees?
It wasn’t until they neared that Mahrree realized the trees were part of the oddest shaped building she had ever seen. The small fort was constructed of vertical logs, and throughout the walls were growing real trees and bushes to hide it almost completely.
“Now that is amazing!” Peto declared. “What do you call it?”
“Camouflage,” said the Varteeya.
“Camouflage?” Peto repeated. “Strange name. Camo Flage?”
Varteeya blinked at him, then understood the confusion. “No, camouflage is what we did to the fort.”
“Yes, Peto,” Barb called, “it’ll be in the dictionary.”
“We looked at animals in nature,” Varteeya explained, “and saw how they hide themselves. We decided we could do the same with our fort and our clothing. Blend into the forest.”
Perrin grinned in appreciation. “Amazing!”
“His favorite word,” Shem said to the men.
Mahrree felt a little better that Perrin, normally a man of many words, was also having a hard time finding specific enough ones to sum up his day.
It was a beautifully amazing day, she thought to herself.
Peto was impressed by the fort as well. “Shem, why didn’t you ever tell my father about this?”
It took only a moment for him to comprehend the looks of Shem and his father.
“Oh. Right.” Peto rolled his eyes. “Why tell the enemy how to hide better. It’s kind of hard to remember what side I’m on now. There seem to be so many.”
Winter patted him on the back as he slid off the horse. “You’ll get it all straight soon enough, young Mr. Shin. Come see the inside.”
Perrin nearly forgot to help Mahrree off of Clark, so eager was he to inspect the oddest fort ever built. The Cat stretched outside and scratched the bark off of a tree while the family took the tour.
Instead of making the fort’s walls conform to a some random rectangle, it instead matched the natural flow of the small woods it stood in, causing the narrow building to angle and twist like a crooked branch, one room following another.
The first room was a combination reception and lookout, with a tall ladder extending up and out of the roof, climbing unnoticed to nearly the top of a large pine tree. When Mahrree peered up the ladder into the massive tree, she was startled to see a distant hand waving down to her.
“The views must be remarkable up there!” Perrin said as he waved to the invisible man.
“They are,” Varteeya said. “We spied you twenty minutes ago.”
Shem stayed in the reception and lookout area to update Winter, while the Shins and Briters moved on to the next room which contained supplies stacked neatly on shelves for people and horses. Mahrree was impressed to see not only clothing and shoes for all sizes of people, but also a wide variety of toys for weary and frightened children.
But she stopped when she noticed an unusual chair in the corner.
She raised her eyebrows at Jaytsy, who frowned in confusion and elbowed Deck to look at it. His eyes grew wide.
Before they could ask about the chair, Varteeya led them into the next section—another extended, narrow room.
“That’s one long table,” Peto noticed.
“It is,” Varteeya said. “Either for eating or surgery, whichever is in need at the moment.”
Peto laughed, until he realized Varteeya wasn’t.
“You’ve done . . . you’ve done surgery in here?! On that?”
“No, of course not,” Varteeya said, and Peto’s shoulders sagged in relief. “I’m a builder. Winter—he’s the surgeon. Need something stitched up?” Varteeya grinned as Peto paled.
Barb and Jothan chuckled as they sat down to the table, set for a snack of nuts and dried fruits, with no surgery implements in sight.
The next room, longer than the others, was obviously for sleeping as it held net litters hanging from above, with cots underneath. Stacks of blankets and pillows were stowed neatly under the cots, enough for twenty people. A door behind that room led to a large washing station, and beyond that, at the end of a narrow path between thick foliage, was another building which hid stabled horses.
“You’re prepared for every contingency here, aren’t you?” Perrin asked as they wandered back to the main building.
“And we’ve faced nearly every contingency, too,” said Varteeya, “since we completed this nearly four years ago.”
“Even the birthing chair?” Mahrree asked incredulously. By now they’d reached the eating/surgery table, and Jaytsy and Deck ducked back up to the supply room to gawk at it.
“I’d read about those being used by our ancestors,” Mahrree told them as she followed the Briters who were slightly stunned and disturbed, with Barb in tow. “I hadn’t realized you still use them.”
“We use everything possible,” Barb said. “There are many positions for birthing babies, and several women prefer the chairs. It seems reasonable to let nature do some of the work. We’ve had seven babies born here since the fort was completed. By the look on Jaytsy’s face, we won’t be having number eight.”
“I feel nothing!” Jaytsy said quickly. “Truly!”
“That’s good,” Barb said. “We still have a long trek in front of us. The paths widens considerably so you, your mother, Deck, and I can ride next to each other and talk about the Salem way of birthing. I’m sure our discussion will pass the time.”
Deck’s eyebrows furrowed. “There are plenty of midwives now. Do I really need to be involved?”
Peto and Perrin had come to the door, almost in a manner of daring the other to look at the birthing chair. They now watched Barb, worried about what her answer would mean for Deck.
“Of course,” Barb told him. “In Salem, fathers are an important part of the birthing process. You were there at the beginning—”
Deck blushed violently.
“—and you should be there at the end. Don’t worry,” Barb assured him. “You’ll do just fine.”
Wretchedly, Deck said “So I am to reach in and—”
“She’s not a cow, Deck! There’ll be no ‘reaching’.”
“Whew,” said Peto.
“Because if Jaytsy chooses to use a chair, you’ll be standing behind your wife and supporting her as she pushes,” Barb gestured to the chair with a noticeably large hole where the seat should be. “But there are many other positions Jaytsy can try. There’s the squat without the chair, there’s on her knees—”
Deck’s color faded rapidly from a bright red to a sickening gray, and he began to slump.
“Sweety?” Jaytsy said, and Perrin dove to catch Deck’s head before it banged on the ground.
“Oh, poor Deckett!” Mahrree cried as Perrin gingerly laid the rest of him down, but Barb only tilted her head.
“Ah,” she said casually, regarding his unconscious body splayed on the floor. “A fainter.”
“Need any help, Barb?” Jothan called from the table.
“I’ve got it, thanks. Don’t worry, Jaytsy; we have a few weeks still to get him ready.” Barb reached into a deep pocket on her breeches, pulled out a small bottle, and knelt by Deck. She uncorked the bottle, waved it under Deck’s nose, and his glazed eyes opened.
“Let’s get you something to eat before we discuss this further.” She hoisted him up expertly and Mahrree rushed to help lead him back to the eating table, casting a Give me a hand! glance at Perrin.
But he and Peto, standing uselessly in the doorway with their mouths
hanging open, didn’t see it. Nor could they seem to remember how to help as a stumbling Deck was led past them, and Jothan stood up to get Deck into a chair.
Barb propped him up by his arms and elbows, and Deck held his woozy head in his hands as Jothan slid plates of food in his direction.
Perrin still couldn’t do much but gesture and say, “Mahrree, put a damp cloth on his neck. That seems to help him when he faints.”
Jaytsy sat down across from her shaking husband. “You all right? Deck? Sweety?”
Varteeya, who had brought a wet cloth to Mahrree, placed his hands on Perrin and Peto’s shoulders.
“Right now he looks like the bravest man in the world, doesn’t he?” he chuckled. “Won’t be as brave as his wife will be in a few weeks, but don’t worry. He’ll get used to it and find his legs when he needs to. So will you, young man,” he squeezed Peto’s shoulder.
“Oh, no, no, no!” Peto exclaimed. “I’m not getting married, and I’m not fathering children!”
Barb chuckled from her spot by Deck where she held his wrist to check his pulse. “Varteeya, ask him about his feelings on studding.”
“Please don’t,” Peto said.
Varteeya squeezed Peto’s shoulder again. “I predict no more than five years. You’ll be holding your own baby by then. Maybe even your second.”
Peto twisted to stare at him.
“It’s a wonderful experience,” Varteeya went on. “The first birth was a bit rough and shocking, I’ll admit. I don’t know how she endured it. The noise, the fluids, the . . .” He held out his hands and did some kind of strange motions that Peto and Perrin couldn’t help but stare at in horror. “But by the sixth baby we didn’t call the midwife. My wife and I handled it just fine with our oldest daughter’s help.”
Mahrree watched with amusement as the looks on her husband’s and son’s faces progressed into dismay. Too many things Varteeya had said in the last minute bounced around in their minds smashing everything they knew about women and childbirth.
Granted, Mahrree thought as she handed her son-in-law a glass of water, there wasn’t much to smash.
“How, how, how,” Perrin stammered before shook himself, “how many children do you have?”
“Only ten,” Varteeya said nonchalantly, but watched for the Shins’ response. “One of my sisters has fifteen, but that’s with three sets of twins. She cheats. Our two oldest daughters enjoyed playing midwife with me.”
Perrin tried to shake the image from his head.
Peto hadn’t moved, except to cringe.
Varteeya thoroughly enjoyed it. “Our oldest is now a midwife herself. But come, we have other things to discuss. You have yet to tell me what you think of our fort, sir!”
Relieved for a change in topic, Perrin snapped his mind back. “Impressive!” he declared. “Even the irregular pitch of the roof mimics a tree line. Amazing! Who came up with this idea?”
Varteeya beamed. “Several of us in the scouting corps felt we needed an emergency station. Many in Salem contributed, but the best ideas came from Shem.”
Perrin looked down the fort through two open doors at Shem who overheard and shrugged apologetically.
“You haven’t been giving me your all over the years,” Perrin called. “If I could still promote you, I wouldn’t.”
“Thank you!”
After Deck was no longer changing colors and the horses were changed—the scouts promising to bring Clark to Salem after he had rested—the party headed out to their new mounts. The Cat noticed Jaytsy being helped into the litter and jumped in to join her.
Before Perrin helped Mahrree on to her new horse, one that Winter promised was the gentlest and dullest animal they had, they saw a lone rider at the end of the meadow heading up to the saddle between the two peaks.
“Who’s that?” Mahrree asked Varteeya and Winter who were holding the reins of their horses.
“One of our messengers,” Winter told her. “We’ve sent him ahead to let Salem know of your progress.”
Perrin eyed him suspiciously. “Just how many more men do you have hiding in the trees?”
“As many as we need, sir,” Winter grinned. “We had many more last night to help with your moving. Today we still have ten here.”
They turned and looked around, but saw only mountains, rocks, and clusters of trees. But it was from those that they heard, scattered around the fort, “Nice to meet you!”
“Have a good trip!”
“Wish you could see your faces right now.”
“We’re watching out for you,” Varteeya assured. “You still have a few more hours’ before the next resting station, so you best go.”
The one good thing about Deck’s unstable condition was that he had Mahrree so concerned as she rode next to him that she didn’t have time to lament that she was no longer with Perrin. He, Deck, and Peto rode ahead so as to not hear any of Barb’s detailed explanations about Salem birthing traditions.
And Mahrree was just fine with Perrin’s distance.
You would think, she thought disappointedly, that a man so accustomed to violence, blood, and yelling wouldn’t be so cowardly about child birthing.
---
It was an easy ride to the end of the valley where the bases of the two peaks met. Shem, Perrin, and Peto rode side by side in the lead discussing the terrain and foliage.
Perrin wanted to make sure none of them heard anything they really didn’t need to. He’d caught Mahrree’s slightly nasty glances, but come on, he thought defensively: he’d fought in many battles, killed dozens of men, faced countless threats—did he really have to be involved in childbirth as well? Didn’t women get to deal with some of the sickening and terrifying aspects of life and death themselves? He was man enough already! He’d changed his babies’ cloths, many of them brown and leaking!
Never mind that Jothan was now explaining to Deck some finer points, and that Perrin expended every bit of energy to not to accidentally eavesdrop.
When he’d learned that Jothan—the strongest scout in their corps and the man in charge when he was on duty—was also a fully trained and experienced midwife assistant, the only thought that rushed through his mind was, That’s so wrong! That’s so, so wrong!
But Perrin would freely admit it: Jothan Hifadhi was even more manly than Perrin. Was that what Mahrree wanted hear? Fine! He admitted it! Why would he want to witness the cries and pain and suffering of those he loved? He’d seen that hundreds of times in his nightmares, heard the shouts of agony of his family, seen their bodies unconscious and worse, sprawled on the floor—
That was what sent Perrin into his current brooding.
It was all behind him, literally miles, the world and its misery. Yet still he remembered the nightmares, and in brief, horrifying moments, lived them.
While he’d ‘saved’ Deck from concussing on the floor, he still had to lay down his heavy, unconscious body. Never mind that Deck was up a few moments later, dazed and pale; Perrin still felt that he’d somehow disappointed Cambozola and Suzie Briter.
In spite of himself, he felt immense comfort, as if the Briters were on either side of him chuckling and saying, Just a fainting spell! He did that the first time he helped a cow birth!
Perrin struggled to cast away his dread that he couldn’t protect them all of the time. There’d always be pain, and always suffering—
--And also always relief, and also always joy. That’s the trial of life, son, and it all works for our good. But it will always end in joy, Perrin. Every story has a happy ending, if you wait long enough.
He was only vaguely aware that Shem and Peto were bickering next to him about what constituted a shrub, because the words that filled his mind so completely also completely baffled him.
He’d heard that line before, about happy endings.
Who was it—?
Mahrree. She’d said those were her father’s last words to her.
Perrin had never met Cephas Peto before
, until that day. His eyes grew wet, and his chest swelled with heat. Only after he’d regained control again did he look behind, hoping to catch Mahrree’s eye.
She was focused on her son-in-law, who valiantly did his best to stay upright in his saddle, pushed gently back by Mahrree when he drifted in her direction. She glanced over at Perrin, then, seeing the intent expression in his face, tilted her head in question.
All he could do was smile at her, while his chin trembled, because he felt in every fiber of his soul that they were on the path to that happy ending.
“Shem, you called that last one a fir tree. How can that be?”
Peto’s complaint pulled Perrin out of his thoughts, but still he had the impression that the Briters and Cephas Peto, and likely Hycymum and his own parents, and even Hogal and Tabbit Densal were enjoying the scenery as well.
“This tree ahead is clearly a different kind, Shem. Look how far up the trunk goes before it begins branching. The other ‘fir tree’ had branches all the way to the ground.”
Perrin smiled to realize that Peto was much his old self again with his “uncle.”
Shem gave him a sidelong glance. “Look, it’s a tree that stays green all Snowing Season, smells nice, and has cones. Fir trees. All of them.”
“But they can’t all be the same. You said these trees are marked for when the snows are high and the trail’s covered, so how do riders know which tree to look for? Surely there’s a name for each kind—”
“Douglas.”
“Douglas?”
“Yes. That tree’s named Douglas . . . Fir,” Shem decided. “That one over there is . . . Myrtle. The scrubby little one behind it is . . . Scrubby Oak. The whole forest likes to be called . . . Sheerwoods.”
Peto’s face contorted in doubt. “A tree named Myrtle?”
“She’s very sensitive about it. Don’t make her feel bad.”
“What kinds of names are those?! Sherwood—”
“Sheerwoods!” Shem grinned. “I’m glad to see you’ve found something to interest you, Peto. When we reach Salem I’ll have to introduce you to someone who knows all about trees. Maybe female, seventeen years old, and who wants at least ten children.”
Even Perrin chuckled at that, although his heart sank to think of some poor girl suffering ten times . . .
Well, if she married Peto, she’d be suffering a lot more frequently than that.
Perrin found himself grinning. Despite his worries and dread, the joy just wasn’t going to be held down. Today—today, was glorious.
He’d seen wapiti, he was riding in terrain that was indescribably intriguing, their entire family—here and in Paradise—were riding with them, and they were off to Salem, wherever it may be.
It was enough to make him laugh.
---
But there was no laughing in the party behind them. On the outside horse sat Jothan wearing an sympathetic smile. Next to him was Barb, with Jaytsy suspended between them, the horses side by side. Deck rode next to Barb, with Mahrree on the other side.
At least she had a mellow horse, Mahrree thought to herself, so that she could focus on Deck. Barb was giving him the explanations Mrs. Braxhicks would have, had she not been forced to Idumea for retraining where she was hoping to instead retrain them.
Deck swooned as Barb described in explicit detail what Jaytsy would be experiencing, and how Deck could help.
Jaytsy was as pale as her husband. Mrs. Braxhicks had already told her all of this, but now that her time was closer, every aspect was unnervingly real.
At first Mahrree worried that the discussion might be uncomfortable for Jothan, who frequently chimed in with further explanations. But he just said dismissively, “Four sons, two daughters, and assisted many births along this trail. It’s just a part of life.”
By the time they reached the end of the valley, Deck was gray again, and Mahrree was sure her color wasn’t much better. There was some forgetfulness in child birthing which sweetens the memory, until someone reminds you vividly of the bitter details.
But Barb’s easy smile and laid-back manner made Mahrree confident that later Jaytsy, too, would recall the event as a happy one, especially when that scrunched up, screaming infant with a misshapen head splattered with blood would be placed in her arms, and she’d think it the most beautiful creature in the world.
Mahrree just wasn’t sure how Deck would remember the day.
Shem stopped the horses at the mouth of the narrow canyon and looked back at Deck with pity.
Perrin exhaled. “I’m glad my days for that are over.”
Peto only gulped.
Shem gave Perrin half a smile. “One Salem birthing tradition is that the first arms to hold the baby are the father’s, for him to realize the magnitude of his responsibility. The child and the mother will rely on him for safety and love, and fathers need to understand that from the very beginning. The baby is eventually held by all the male members of the family so that they recognize their roles in caring for the newest family member and to feel an early connection to the baby.
“But,” Shem continued, and Perrin shifted his gaze to Shem, suspicious of his tone, “when the father’s not available, a grandfather is expected to step in. Because really, it’s also a practical tradition, as everything in Salem is. You see, someone has to hold the newborn while they take care of the mother. So Perrin, in case Deck’s elsewhere, you should start practicing catching wet, slippery things.”
Perrin paled whiter than the patches of snow. “Uh, wait—”
Shem laughed at his horrified expression. “Don’t worry, the midwife does the catching and wraps up the baby before handing it to the father or grandfather.” Shem called to the approaching midwife party. “Barb, no more! Deck’s had enough. The canyon gets rugged, and we don’t need him falling off his horse and down a ravine.”
Barb waved off his concern. “We just finished tying off the cord anyway. He’s ready.”
Deck blinked at the men. “Cows are . . . different.”
---
Jaytsy’s ride shifted again as the draft horses were adjusted to follow one after the other to enter the canyon, and Perrin squinted nervously at the steep sides. After living his entire life in open plains, this was a bit claustrophobic. The dim trail they followed hugged another rapid river, and was so narrow there was barely enough room for the riders without being knocked off by overhanging tree branches. Every few hundred paces another twisting canyon split off, each with its own faint trail.
“Shem,” Perrin called, feeling better that there was some alternative to the confining canyon, “where do these other trails lead to?”
“Nowhere interesting,” Shem answered, to Perrin’s disappointment. “Cattle follow those trails to grazing pastures, but the trails are also useful to confuse anyone who may find their way unguided into Salem. If we can lose unexpected visitors in the canyons, we have more time to prepare for them. Can get very disorienting, especially for the wrong kind of people.”
“Meaning people from the world?” Perrin asked.
Shem’s glance back confirmed his suspicion.
Perrin looked around, and a moment later he chuckled.
“What is it?” Mahrree called from her horse behind him.
“I was just thinking about people from the world coming here.”
Peto twisted to look at his father. “And that’s funny?”
“It would be if they ran into a block wall!”
Shem turned around now. “What?”
“Most of these canyons are narrow. I think it would be funny if some soldiers came running through here and found themselves face to face with a block wall to keep them out.”
Shem shook his head. “Sometimes you have the strangest ideas.”
“Do they even build with block in Salem?” Jaytsy asked.
“No,” Shem said. “Stone, logs, planking, but no block.”
Now Peto began to chuckle. “If they ran into a block wall, Father, they�
�d think they’re back in school, would look around for a cramped desk to sit in, then wait for a teacher to help them recite their oaths of loyalty to the Administrators and starve to death while waiting.”
Perrin and Peto laughed, but Mahrree shook her head. “You two are odd. Why would there be a block wall in the middle of nowhere?”
“That’s the point!”
Over the course of the next two hours the canyon widened, narrowed, twisted, widened again into a large meadow, then turned again and narrowed so often that Perrin couldn’t imagine any strangers could find their way easily. Deer along the river that rushed below them occasionally looked up from feeding on newly sprouted leaves to see who was passing. A large bull moose watched them lazily from a marsh, giving the Shins another animal to stare at in astonishment. The scenery was almost serene.
But Perrin was growing anxious.
Judging by the shadows cast by the mountain peaks, they had maybe only an hour of sunlight in the canyon. He scanned the impossible slopes looking for a suitable place to camp, knowing full well they didn’t have any supplies. The air was already beginning to chill, and there would most likely be frost that night.
Perrin turned and sent Mahrree a look.
Whatever happy thought she had been entertaining vanished, replaced by shared worry.
Facing forward again, Perrin was about to ask about the next resting station when Shem glanced back.
Perrin recognized the look. “Oh, Shem. What are you plan—”
But Shem again sent him the eye twitch, dug his heels into the horse’s sides, and it took off cantering down the trail.
Peto looked back at his parents in questioning.
“What’s he doing?” Jaytsy called from behind.
“Being Shem,” Perrin said. “That’s his, ‘Can’t catch me, Colonel!’ face. He perfected it during one of the Strongest Soldier races. I’m not in the mood, Sergeant!” he yelled after him.
Shem stopped at the mouth of the canyon which had narrowed to the width of just two horses. Before it was a severe gulley, into which the horses and riders were now entering, the animals skidding and sliding before having to climb up the facing bank.
Perrin, who had overtaken Peto, was now glaring at Shem as his horse struggled up the slope.
But Shem had his back turned, surveying the scene above and beyond the party.
“The Second Resting Station can be seen from here,” he called down cheerfully. Smirking at Perrin’s struggling horse, not used to its rider’s weight, Shem said, “Sorry. You can see now why I spurred mine into a run. Horses appreciate a running start up that bank.”
“Thanks for the belated advice,” Perrin growled.
Mahrree’s horse hopped down in three jerky jumps.
“You need to climb back up here,” Shem said. “Or Jaytsy’s horses will have no chance of getting over.”
Deck’s mount lead the way, loping down the slope and taking the opposite bank in a few well-placed jumps. He reined his horse on the other side, still down the slope from Shem, who stood as if on guard.
While Perrin’s, Peto’s, and Mahrree’s horse scrambled awkwardly up the other side, Jothan and Barb simply let their well-trained horses skirt around the gully on the side, gently swinging Jaytsy between the steep slope and the drop off.
“Or,” Shem said, not nearly as apologetic as he pretended to be, “you could have led your horses around the entire problem—”
“Shem,” Perrin said, growing impatient, “Let’s just get to that resting station already.”
“Eager to see it?”
“If you’d step your horse aside, yes!”
“I’m starving,” Peto announced.
“I’m starting to lose all feeling to my legs,” Mahrree murmured.
“Well then,” Shem winked at Jothan as he backed up his horse. “Welcome to the Second Resting Station.”
Perrin’s horse started automatically up the slope, but when he caught a view of what Shem had been concealing, he slid off. Astonished, he fell to his knees, the only appropriate thing to do.
A moment later Mahrree fell next to him, grabbing his arm for support, and nearly pulling him down.
Behind him, someone else also fell off a horse in surprise—maybe Peto, maybe Deck . . . maybe it was a herd of zebras, but Perrin couldn’t pry his eyes away from what opened up before them.
“Or maybe,” Shem said, with a mischievous smile when he realized none of the Shins would be able to utter a word, “I should have said, Welcome to Salem.”
Chapter 10--“So what do you think,
Colonel? Can we take them?”