by Trish Mercer
Mahrree sank on the sofa, as if all the wind had been let out of her. “Oh, poor Dormin—”
Perrin slowly shook his head. “It was Thorne, with my father’s sword. I heard it ring, and I just knew.” He paled as he covered his mouth, and Mahrree thought he might actually become ill.
“Don’t think about taking any of this upon yourselves,” Jothan said, kneeling in front of them. “Dormin was the most dedicated man we ever had. And I think it’s fitting that he died saving you.”
“How?” asked Perrin wretchedly. “It was my father who ordered the execution squad to kill his father, then Relf’s sword took Dormin’s life? I’m struggling to see how this is fitting! And I was going to apologize to Dormin, for everything . . .”
Asrar wiped away her copious tears. “Dormin felt no anger toward you or your father, Perrin. He only regretted that he was the only member of his family to do anything useful for the world. The Creator reserved him for this day, I’m sure. Feel no regret for him. He passed The Test, most admirably. And you will have your time to chat with him about everything, just later on the other side.”
“I still feel so awful,” Perrin murmured.
Shem sat down next to him. “Dormin wasn’t afraid to die. He told me on more than one occasion that he fully expected to go earlier rather than later. I can’t help but think this closed some sort of circle. I imagine he went out with bold words and kingly confidence.”
Asrar smiled at that. “But in a good way. He really did have a presence about him. He tried to hide it, but some things you just can’t deny.”
Jothan sniffed, surprising them all. “I’ll go and let Rector Yung know. The scouts who found Dormin buried him in the woods, where he loved to be. Yung will find that appropriate. I’m sure Guide Gleace will want to conduct a memorial service.” Jothan clapped a hand on Perrin’s knee. “I can’t help but feel a sense of peace about it all. While I won’t know until the next life how he went, I do know he went astonishingly well. And I also know he’s still with us.”
Mahrree stared as Jothan’s eyes bubbled over, but he darted out the front door before she could offer him a handkerchief.
“I’ve never seen him so shaken up,” Asrar said. “Well!” she turned to Perrin and Mahrree, clapping her hands and ignoring her tears. “So sorry to bring such dreary news this morning, when today—ah, today will be so wonderful for you.”
“Maybe we should wait a day or two, out of respect—” Perrin began, but the rapid head shaking of Asrar stopped him.
“Oh, there’s no way. Today’s the day! Get your children up, breakfast’s already been made by a neighbor, and your ride will be here soon to take you home.”
As somber as they felt during breakfast, Mahrree couldn’t help but feel unwanted giddiness. It seemed wrong to feel such sublime anticipation when a man had died to deliver her to it.
But then again, wouldn’t he have been disappointed if the Shins and Briters didn’t feel joy today?
After they said a prayer thanking the Creator for Dormin’s sacrifice, they heard a wagon pull up. As Shem went out to greet it, Perrin said to his family, “Some people expect us to be happy today. We’d best oblige them.”
Through the front door came Yudit with her husband Noch. He grinned broadly and said, “That magnificent beast tethered to the fence—is that Clark? Can I someday take him for a ride?”
“Show me where my new home is,” Perrin said, “and you can play with my pony all you like.”
Mahrree’s smile was genuine as Perrin helped her climb on the bench in Noch’s wagon behind him and Yudit. Both Noch and Deck assisted Jaytsy on to the third row, while Peto made himself comfortable in the wagon bed where he could keep an eye on Clark, tethered to the wagon. The Cat made himself comfortable on Peto’s lap.
As Shem on horseback led them out, he called, “Prepare to meet a few more friends, Peto!”
“What does he mean by that?” Mahrree asked as Perrin growled.
Yudit, sitting in front of them, turned around. “You might as well know, you’re rather well-known in Salem. Shem’s reports got around. A few people might wave as we drive by.”
Noch chuckled as he slapped the horses.
Perrin and Mahrree exchanged nervous glances.
Since the Second Resting Station was less than a hundred paces off the main cobblestone road, they were soon on it and heading north. Quite quickly Yudit’s prediction of a ‘few people’ came true. As the Shins rode by, people waved from their fields and barns, came to their porches to shout hello, and soon they realized that a child running alongside the wagon for a time wasn’t to be an anomaly.
As they reached the more populated areas of Salem, where the farms and orchards ended and the houses were closer together, it was a parade. Mahrree was so embarrassed by the amount of people who lined the road to cheer, she was sure that her face was red.
Perrin nudged her as the crowds thickened. “Don’t worry—they’ve all turned out for Shem. I think he knows everyone here.”
Shem was pointing at people and calling their names as he passed, waving happily and promising to “Come by later.”
“We’ll never see him again,” Perrin commented. “He has about sixty invitations to make good on so far, and it’s still another five miles to our new house, according to Noch.”
Yudit turned to Perrin. “Everyone’s out to see Shem? You keep telling yourself that, if it makes you feel better. But they’re not watching Shem as much as you think. Everyone wants to see the Hero of Edge and his family. Word went out that you left the world, chased by soldiers, to come to us instead.”
Mahrree had already noticed that people’s eyes greeted Shem, then went immediately to her husband and lingered there. She nudged him gently. “Yudit’s right.”
Perrin groaned. “I thought we could just melt into the background here and have a nice quiet life.”
Noch laughed. “Give it a few weeks and the excitement will die down. In the meantime, enjoy the tradition. We welcome all lost families to Salem this way. Although I don’t ever recall such a crowd.”
“I feel like we should be throwing them sweets or something,” Jaytsy murmured as she waved.
Deck checked on Peto behind him. There were plenty of young women, all meeting Perrin’s modesty standards, waving to Peto in the back of the wagon. He smiled slyly back and practiced a nonchalant wave that ended in a pointing gesture. He’d be adding a wink next.
Deck chuckled. “Looking for a practical girl, Peto?”
“I think they’re prettier here, Deck,” Peto said airily. “Sorry you had to settle for what they had to offer in Edge.”
“Peto!” Mahrree said.
Deck put his arm around his insulted wife. “I got the last perfect woman in Edge.”
Peto rolled his eyes and turned back to enjoy the view.
---
Perrin scanned the crowd nervously. There were thousands, tens of thousands, of adults and children lining the road for the next few miles. In some places they stood four and five deep, and seemed to regard him with too much respect and awe.
He glanced up at Shem who also seemed embarrassed about the attention, even though he kept up the pointing and greeting. What everyone in Salem knew about Perrin came from Shem. It wasn’t that Shem wasn’t honest—he was, to a fault, when he wasn’t hiding information. And last night he relayed everything to his family accurately; it was just that Perrin wanted to adjust the color Shem used. Perrin came out too vivid and bright. He couldn’t imagine what kinds of pictures Shem had been painting for Salem all these years.
Perrin was dragged out of thoughts by an older man saluting him as they passed, and Perrin automatically saluted back. The movement felt odd after several weeks of neglect.
Yudit noticed. “That was Mr. Kamaz. He was one of our scouts serving under your father as a young man, stationed at a fort in Pools, I think, for two years while your grandfather was High General. He told me he once gave you a ride on his horse when you
were seven.”
Perrin spun back around to look at the slightly stooped man who was still watching, even though the crowd behind was dispersing to go home. Mr. Kamaz nodded and smiled.
Perrin nodded back and turned around.
“I don’t remember him,” he said to Mahrree. “But I do remember riding with soldiers occasionally.”
“Maybe he can tell you about your father and grandfather,” Mahrree suggested. “It’d be fascinating to hear what he remembers.”
Perrin peered at Yudit. “How many more people here know me that I don’t know about?”
Yudit shrugged. “I’m not sure. We’ve had several dozen scouts over the years join the army. None stayed as long as Shem, but all of them knew about your family. I suspect over the next little while they’ll seek you out to tell you what they remember.”
“I’d like that,” Perrin said. “Still, this is a bit uncomfortable.”
Noch leaned back to talk to Perrin. “I understand that in the world there’s a tradition for burying a fallen soldier. As many men as possible take turns carrying the coffin to the gravesite. Well, at least that’s what usually happens,” he added.
Perrin sighed, remembering his parents’ burial. “Shem told you about that?”
Noch raised his eyebrows in a What doesn’t he tell us? manner. “The sentiment, from what I understand, is for everyone to escort the deceased home.”
“Yes, that’s the idea.”
“This also is an ‘escort home.’ We line the road as a welcome to everyone who’s made it to Salem, because this is where you’ve always belonged. A guide many years ago suggested something similar happens in Paradise. When we finally make it to our true home again, we’ll be greeted and escorted by thousands, if not millions, who have been eagerly waiting and cheering for us, and we never knew it.”
Perrin and Mahrree couldn’t respond, nor did Noch expect them to as he said, just above the din of the calling crowd, “We’ve all been cheering you, for years. Finally you can see how many on this side have been eagerly waiting for you to come home.”
“This is so different,” Mahrree eventually whispered, “from the world who no longer wanted us.”
“Rejected by the world?” Noch smiled. “That’s precisely why we want you.”
---
It was another minute before Mahrree could compose herself. She’d need another handkerchief soon, and was glad she didn’t have the opportunity to offer Jothan hers.
She returned the waves of countless Salemites, smiling and blubbering at the same time. “And here I thought we’d be strangers.”
“Not at all,” Yudit told them. “Mahrree, there are a lot of teachers who want to meet you. Our history of the world is in pieces. But you can give them the whole picture. Maybe even write it down?”
Mahrree’s eyebrows went up. “Write a book?”
Jaytsy poked her from behind. “Of course! How often did you complain about the dullness of the Administrators’ texts? Here’s your chance to do better.”
“Not a bad idea, Mother,” Peto added from the wagon bed. “And I can be your critic.”
“Oh, that’s far too much help,” Mahrree said. “But it’s an intriguing thought . . .”
“Well, it seems you’ve found your purpose in Salem,” said Perrin with a hint of friendly jealousy.
Their short parade traveled near the center of Salem before turning west. Yudit promised the Shins they’d have a full tour next week, but in the meantime she pointed out some of the bigger buildings. The most striking was an enclosed arena that held thirty thousand people.
When Perrin heard that Shem had given frequent updates about the world there, and to packed audiences, he groaned.
“He probably even put on a one-man version of ‘The Midnight Ride of Perrin Shin,’” he murmured to Mahrree.
The arena, Yudit told them, also hosted combined congregation meetings, concerts, plays, and even debates. Mahrree smiled at that.
Another large building, three levels high, was one of the several surplus storage buildings in Salem. Yudit explained that whatever crops, goods, or supplies people in Salem had in excess was brought for those who needed them.
“Just how much can people here do without?” Perrin wondered. “All that the citizens of Edge would donate wouldn’t even fill my old bedroom wardrobe.”
There was also Salem’s university, with several sprawling buildings, and a huge library: a stone structure which held copies of every book Salem produced, as well as many from the world which Shem and others had brought home over the years. The most fantastic part was that anyone could borrow a book and return it later.
When Mahrree heard that, she thought she’d died and gone to Paradise. The library would be the first place she’d race to next week.
The seat of Salem’s government, however, was a surprisingly small building, not much larger than a house.
When Perrin asked why it was so small, Noch told him, “Because it’s needed only once a week, for a few hours. When people govern themselves, there’s little need for mediation. But when people won’t, someone bigger and meaner steps in to do it. Folks in the world are selfish and childish, so they need laws to dictate every little aspect of their lives. The more government there is, the less freedom people have. We treasure our freedom.”
When Shem turned west to their new house, waving people still lined the road. He called back to the Shins, “Less than a mile down here, and you’ll be home!”
Mahrree didn’t realize she was holding her breath in anticipation, until Perrin whispered into her ear. “You’ll pass out before we even get there. Remember, it was just built. The wood won’t weather to a gray for several years yet.”
Startled, she whispered, “You remember?”
“The dreams of the most dangerous woman in the world are hard to forget,” he whispered back. “My original plan was to build your dream house near Terryp’s ruins. I wasn’t sure how to supply the garden you dreamed you were weeding, but I think Salem can do that for us. And I promise you, if this house doesn’t have window boxes, I’ll add some. Oh, now don’t start crying! You won’t be able to see it clearly.”
“I didn’t think you remembered!” she sobbed softly.
Her children, surprised at her tears, glanced at each other.
“After all this time, you still remember?” Mahrree murmured.
Perrin put his arm around her. “I’ll have to figure out how to fill it with children,” he said softly. “But even without The Drink, at forty-seven we’re not exactly young anymore, Mahrree.”
Peto poked his sister. “What are they talking about?”
Jaytsy shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t hear them.”
“Shush!” said Deck, straining to eavesdrop on their conversation.
Mahrree grabbed her husband’s arm in sudden understanding. “Perrin,” she whispered. “Maybe the house wasn’t filled with our children. It was our—”
“Grandchildren?”
The word heated her completely, yet sent a chill down her arms. “Yes, that must be it! Perrin, that’s it!”
“So who’s going to tell the three behind us that they’ll produce a dozen children?” he whispered.
Perrin and Mahrree turned to look at the confused faces which were trying to figure out what their parents’ conversation was about.
Perrin and Mahrree exchanged a look.
Jaytsy sighed in frustration and Peto groaned.
Their parents burst out laughing.
“That can’t be a good sign,” said Peto.
“I have got to start learning that stupid face game of theirs!” Jaytsy said, folding her arms.
But Deck shook his head. “I have a feeling this is one look we don’t want to know the meaning of.”
Perrin pointed at Deck. “It can wait a few years.”
He put his arm around Mahrree and they wiped their tears just in time to hear Shem announce, “There it is! Home!”
Mahrree gasped.
And flapped her arms as if being attacked by kissing bees.
She would have screamed if she remembered how to breathe.
She did jump up and down, though, on the bench until Perrin caught her before she tumbled out of the wagon.
It only needed window boxes.
The sun was hitting it at the correct angle, too, as they pulled up. The pine planking was yellow and pristine, but in a few years it would weather to a light gray. And there were mountains—such mountains!—exactly as in her dreams. The house sat at the end of the road on the edge of Salem, hills rising up behind it and growing into fantastic peaks. Mahrree already knew their curves from the glimpses she’d had over the years.
She was scarcely aware that Perrin helped her out of the wagon, but if he hadn’t, her awkward leaping from it probably would have landed her face-first into the dirt. Sobbing and laughing she rushed to the front yard and dropped to her knees, overwhelmed and overjoyed.
Behind her followed Perrin, chuckling and wiping his eyes.
But back in the wagon, everyone else watched, openmouthed.
Yudit and Shem exchanged questioning looks.
Jaytsy whispered, “She’s . . . gone . . . loopy!”
Yudit frowned in concern. “Usually people are little excited to get a new house, but . . . Shem? Is she all right?”
Shem only shook his head in astonishment as Mahrree clawed at her husband for his help to stand up so she could burst through the front door—yes, it was made out of oak!—to enter the house of her dreams.
It was simple in construction, well laid out, much larger than their home in Edge, and lacking for nothing.
Everyone else soon joined Mahrree in the large gathering room where she giggled and gasped and squealed and sighed. Together they tested the two long sofas—plain, sturdy, yet beautiful—and marveled at the separate eating room with a well-crafted table and chairs that could seat a dozen people, then stared at the spacious kitchen with a large work table and numerous cabinets already stocked with dishes and food.
They wandered up the stairs to find three large furnished bedrooms—one for Peto, one temporarily for the Briters that would later be a study, and one for Mahrree and Perrin.
In their room Mahrree guffawed when she saw their bed: evidently Shem had sent the measurements of Perrin’s massive timber bed in Edge so that Salemites could make a similar one, complete with a down and straw mattress, and topped with blankets of carefully cut and pieced cloth, resulting in remarkable designs.
Mahrree marveled how ordinary cloth could become a work of art. Indeed, everything in the house, from their new clothes to the pattern engraved on their clay dishes, was artful in its simplicity.
The morning was spent in staring in wonder, touching furniture and books in gratitude, and marveling at the workmanship and generosity. They gazed out at their enormous piece of property, the ends of which The Cat was inspecting for mice, and were speechless.
Deckett was in tears when he realized the house next door, nearly identical in design and size to the Shins’, came with eighty acres leading up to the hillside and mountains beyond: Deck’s new ranch. When Guide Gleace had told him they would get him a ‘some cattle,’ he meant one hundred head, and Deck would travel next week to various ranches selecting his herd.
Jaytsy bounced, as much as she could without hurting herself, in delight to see the team of men working to complete her home. A large barn sat behind and between the two houses, and was ample enough for birthing cows and housing the two horses and wagon provided for both families’ use, with plenty of room for Clark.
As Mahrree gazed out onto her own back garden, Yudit explained. “Every family has garden space big enough to grow what they may need for the coming year. The farms and orchards surrounding the city grow grains, fruit and grapes, but most families like to raise their own produce, or have a few fruit trees, berries, and their own chickens. My sister Nan has a clutch of chicks she’s raising for your families to share. They’ll be here and ready to lay in a few weeks, right after you’ve finished planting.”
Jaytsy squeezed her arm. “Don’t worry, Mother. I know what to plant. Look—our gardens meet at that big boulder.”
“We initially thought we should try to drag that out of here,” Yudit gestured to the gray-white boulder taller than Perrin. “But when my husband climbed on top of it, he realized it was good for looking for missing children or wandering cattle. So we decided to leave it. Unless you’d like it moved?” A quality in her tone suggested that she hoped the answer would be ‘no,’ because it was an enormous rock.
Mahrree shook her head. “Not at all! I rather like it. It reminds me of the boulders we passed through to get here. So the boulder designates the boundaries between our properties?”
“Not exactly. You see, you don’t own this property.”
“Figures,” whispered a still slightly cynical Peto.
Yudit, whose large posterity had trained her to develop keen hearing to always be on top of whatever mischief they were concocting, heard him. “No one owns property here, Peto. Instead, recognize that this is the land to which you have been given stewardship. It is yours to maintain, to use, to care for, but never to own. None of us have a greater right than another to land. It’s the Creator’s. He shared it freely with us, so we share it freely with others.”
Peto nodded in meek agreement.
Yudit winked forgivingly. “Stewardships change, too. This used to be our father’s, but he quit cattle some years ago. Since then others have cared for this area by grazing animals here to make sure it wasn’t overrun by weeds. If you don’t want to be responsible for so much land, we’ll assign portions to someone else. Occasionally you may be asked to help care for someone else’s stewardship for a time. For example, we have a family in our congregation who just added triplets to their family. Only a year ago, they had twins.”
Mahrree gasped, and Jaytsy clutched her belly.
“Yep,” Yudit chuckled at their expressions. “Five babies, all under age two. Their farm is now the entire rectory’s stewardship, and the young parents have three assistants in their house at all times helping to care for the babies, milk the goats, and wash the changing cloths. Even families can become everyone’s stewardship, if needed.”
“That’s a lot of free help,” snapped Peto, and immediately looked like he regretted it.
“You think they won’t be ‘paid back,’ is it?” Yudit squinted.
Peto bobbled his head.
“Think about this, Peto: in fifteen years that family will have five teenagers who may be tasked to take care of an elderly couple’s farm while the husband tends to his dying wife. He won’t need to worry about anything but making her comfortable. They’ll contribute back, in time. Just as you will.” She raised an eyebrow at him.
He squished his lips into another apology.
“Freely given, freely shared,” Mahrree marveled. “Just like it was at the beginning. What Guide Hierum died trying to preserve.”
“It’s amazing,” said Perrin again. “All of it. The concept, the barn, the boulder, the house . . .” he gestured indiscriminately as he slowly turned to take it all in. “I’m nearly speechless.”
“I knew you’d like it,” Shem grinned. “That house down there,” he pointed to a weathered house a few hundred paces down a wagon-tracked lane, “is my father’s and, starting today, mine again as well. We’re neighbors! A few years ago I suggested to Gleace that we set this land aside for you, and it’s been waiting ever since. I thought you’d appreciate how the roads end here, for a bit of privacy. The unoccupied hillsides behind the Briters is perfect for grazing cattle.”
Deck nodded. “I’ll be able to see the cattle from the kitchen.”
“That’s why your house was built at an angle,” Shem said.
&
nbsp; “That was my idea,” Yudit elbowed him. “When you sit on your front porches, both families will have views of the roads and of each other’s front doors. That will come in handy when you’re trying to see whose house the grandchildren are running to.”
Jaytsy smiled. “You’ve thought of everything.”
“We’ve been doing this for a while,” Yudit said. “There’s something else,” she said, a little uncomfortably. She glanced at her brother who nodded for her to continue. “You see, Perrin and Mahrree, this isn’t intended to be only your house. It’s customary in Salem that when the parents see the last of their children marry and have a family, they step down into a smaller home, or have a smaller section built for them on the house. The large house is then passed on to . . .” She looked at Peto to see if he understood.
“On to who?” Peto asked.
Mahrree caught on. “It’s a lovely idea! Why would the two of us need such a large home when it’s only us? It makes sense to give the bigger space to the growing family.” She beamed at Peto.
Peto looked at her in complete and worried confusion.
Perrin nodded. “I’ll even make the addition when it’s time.”
“When it’s time for what?!” Peto demanded.
Deck put an arm around him and squeezed his cheeks. “When it’s time for you to be a papa.”
“Whoa! Whoa!” Peto said pulling out of Deck’s grip. “Who said anything about that?”
“Peto, we’re happy to keep this house for many more years,” Mahrree assured him. “No one’s in a rush.”
“That’s right!” He shook out his shoulders. “I need time to evaluate all the practical women around here.” A half smile came across his face. “Now that I look at this house properly as my future home, when it’s time, Mother, you and Father can have the barn.”
Jaytsy put her hands on her hips. “Peto, just how long have you been interested in practical women?”
“Uh . . . I don’t know. It just kind of snuck up on me.”
Shem pointed at him. “Remember, you promised once that you wouldn’t get married before me.”
“Well then,” Yudit said taking Mahrree by the arm, “we best get working on him.”
“I don’t need your help!” Shem said, now pointing at the giggling women. “Nor yours,” his finger was now directed dangerously at Perrin. “Nor any of yours,” he gestured at the others.
“Stay back, everyone,” Perrin said. “He’s an agitated man, and I’m unarmed.”
Shem held up his hands as the family laughed. “I just don’t need everyone jumping me, all right? I’ve been home less than one full day, and already two of my sisters have been trying to get me to meet some of their friends.”
“The most adventurous bachelor in Salem has finally returned for good. Shem, you better get used to meeting all kinds of new female friends,” his sister warned.
“And I want to meet them,” he promised her. “But at my own rate and in my own way, all right? All right?”
“Once you’re settled,” Yudit nudged Mahrree, “we’ll get to work on him.”
Chapter 12--“So does everyone know us?”