by Trish Mercer
Nearly the entire population of Edge came nervously to the center of the village the next evening, the 63rd Day of Weeding Season, 322.
When the amphitheater began to fill, Mahrree could feel the tension swirling around her at the front row. She sat with the Densals, her mother, and Jaytsy and Peto. Perrin had insisted his children come to remind anyone who saw the two-year-old and one-year-old that he was a family man. Fortunately Peto took a late nap and dozed contentedly in his great-great-uncle’s arms, while Jaytsy was happy to sit on the ground dumping out the contents of her grandmother’s bag. Even Hycymum realized now wouldn’t be a good time to get upset that her yarns were rolling to the front of the platform’s stand, even if it was Tabbit who good-naturedly kicked them for Jaytsy’s entertainment.
Hogal, sitting next to Mahrree, looked around him carefully so as to not disturb Peto. “Where’s Corporal Zenos tonight?”
There were about twenty soldiers in the amphitheater, some sitting in the audience, a few standing at the exit stairs, and all trying to look friendly and casual. They weren’t doing a good job of it, judging by the wary looks of the villagers. Even Staff Sergeant Gizzada, who had a naturally pleasant face, seemed to be trying too hard to exude relaxed joy, suggesting instead that he’d had one too many pies after dinner.
Perrin must have given them lessons in smiling, Mahrree feared.
“Shem’s on patrol tonight at the forest’s edge.” She glanced at Hogal and saw great concern in his eyes. “Why?”
“Suppose that’s right, then,” Hogal muttered under his breath. The usual sparkle in his eyes was gone, until he looked at Mahrree. Some of it tried to return, but fizzled. “Don’t you worry about Shem Zenos. In fact, I recommend that you and Perrin always keep him close to you.”
Mahrree grinned. “We do! Haven’t you noticed? He’s right next to us every Holy Day in your congregation—”
Hogal’s eyes remained uncharacteristically serious. “Mahrree, keep him close. He’s young, but a most excellent man, and the finest I’ve ever known after Perrin.”
Mahrree sobered too. “That’s high praise coming from you.”
“I trust him, Mahrree. So should you and Perrin. With everything. Promise me you will?”
Mahrree could only nod at Hogal’s grave expression.
Then he looked down at the ground, saw a ball of yard in front of him, and gave it a worthy kick that made Jaytsy laugh and Hycymum fume. He waggled his eyebrows at Mahrree and chuckled, as if the last conversation had never taken place.
A few minutes later Major Shin took the stage, with his new jacket and insignias that he realized he had to finally wear, and the murmuring audience fell to a frightened hush.
Mahrree smiled encouragingly at him as he glanced down at her. He winked and she couldn’t help but sigh. He looked fantastic, as always, but she’d seen him only once from that angle before on the platform and had forgotten that it made him seem larger than life. She realized with a mischievous giggle that probably most of the women who attended their debates over three years ago didn’t come for the words but for the view.
But tonight Mrs. Shin was confident her husband winked only at her.
When Mr. Hegek joined him he looked comical in comparison. He seemed to shrink even smaller under the nervous gaze of over four thousand villagers. But then Major Shin put a friendly arm around him and announced the beginning of the debate.
Forty-five minutes later the audience’s demeanor was significantly altered.
The change happened around the time Mr. Hegek, who proved to be a fair match for Perrin once he got over his fear of the crowd, suggested that the only person in Edge capable of changing Nature’s First Law was Major Shin himself. He went so far as to dictate an amusing letter the major should send to the Administrators. He proposed how altering Nature’s forces could keep the citizens in line—quite literally—if the force was applied in a narrow enough focus.
The high point of the evening was when the two of them pulled several teenage students from the audience and practiced queuing them up to find the most appropriate “lines.” Purposely choosing very lively teens who playfully refused to stand still, even when the major “ordered” them and their new director “threatened” them, was a shared stroke of genius.
By the time the two men began to teasingly argue about the problems of other forces, such as attraction and repulsion, then illustrated the problem cleverly by lining up the uncooperative teenagers and alternating them boy-girl, they were wholly claimed by the laughing audience as native sons of Edge.
Mahrree had to wait in line to talk to her husband after the debate, but she didn’t mind. She just beamed at him as he glowed in his victory. He didn’t win the debate, but handily won over Edge, which was a far more significant accomplishment. Many men slapped him on the back and a few assured him they never doubted he was always “one of them.” Mahrree overheard a few women tell him they had missed watching him on the platform and hoped he would return again for them to admire his abilities.
Mahrree smirked when she saw Perrin blush briefly. She made a mental note to pay a few neighborly visits to his admirers in the near future. She caught his eye and he made his excuses to join her.
“You’re not going to stay for the acrobatics? They’re from Idumea. I saw them years ago. They’re quite amazing. Jaytsy and Peto would love it.” He glanced down at his children sitting in their little wagon. Jaytsy was rocking back and forth trying to get it to move, and Peto did his best to climb out of the ropes Mahrree had fashioned snugly around him to keep him in place. “Look, Peto’s ready to join them!” Perrin grinned.
Mahrree hadn’t seen him this happy in weeks. She shook her head but smiled. “Maybe another time. They’ll be exhausted in half an hour anyway and the whining competition will begin. No one here wants to witness that. I can get them home and into bed. You finish taking your compliments, and keep track of the names of the women.”
She gripped his arm and tiptoed to reach his ear. “Tonight was exactly what everyone needed,” she whispered. “I see by the crowd of well-wishers that even our new director has made some new friends. Well done, Major!”
Perrin kissed her quickly. “Thanks. I’ll be home soon, I promise.”
---
Corporal Shem Zenos and the corporal assigned to him that evening guided their horses along the tree line, just as the sun was setting. They had been watching the forest, as they always did, when Shem noticed the movement out of the corner of his eye.
“This is it,” he exhaled to himself. “And at sundown. That’s different.”
He glanced over to the other corporal to see if he noticed anything, but the soldier was looking south toward the village at that moment. Shem looked over to the trees again and felt his mouth go dry. He was about to be put to the test.
They burst out, at least twenty, as one great dark smear in a dash south.
“Corporal!” Zenos shouted. “Back to the fort! Warn Karna!”
Then Zenos kicked the sides of his horse and rode toward Edge, alone.
---
It was an hour after the debate when Mahrree opened the window of Jaytsy’s bedroom to let in the cool evening breeze that came off the mountains. The sun had just set, changing the sky to a deep orange with green cloudy strips through it, and her daughter slept soundly in her small bed, as her little brother did in his.
Mahrree thought nothing was more beautiful than the sight of her children. Except her children freshly scrubbed and softly snoring for yet another peaceful night. Since they both began to sleep solidly, Mahrree’s belief in the mercifulness of the Creator had doubled.
She turned to leave Jaytsy’s room when she heard an odd sound outside. It stopped as abruptly as it began. She walked quickly to the window to try to discern what it was when it came again, faintly.
A scream, high-pitched, from somewhere in the area of her mother’s neighborhood.
Tonight, Mahrree, the world really IS out to get you. M
OVE!
Mahrree clutched the window frame as her father’s words filled her head to toe. “Dear Creator!” she whispered. “My husband’s not coming home tonight, is he? Please, help him!”
Much can be done in five minutes. Mahrree had practiced it, so she knew. Every window can be shut and barred with the exactly fitting iron reinforcements. Two sleeping children can be moved to their parents’ large bed upstairs which was secured with rails to prevent them from rolling out. The door to that room can be locked at the top and the bottom. The front and back doors can be bolted and secured, and Mahrree could still have time to kneel in prayer by the front window with the iron rod from her bedside clenched firmly in her hands. Barker was in the back garden, but she knew he’d be useless. Unless Guarders were afraid of drool.
Fast approaching horses’ hooves stopped suddenly behind her house.
Her eyes flew open. “Thank you!” Mahrree murmured to the ceiling and rushed to the back door. She saw a soldier leap over her back fence and run to the door. He ran right past the dog who rested, unperturbed, in his shelter as Mahrree opened the back door.
“Mrs. Shin, I have been sent by the fort to . . . Are you going somewhere?!”
---
Major Shin had been trying to go home for the past half hour, but each time he finished a conversation with one person, another took his place. Most of the residents of Edge were either staying to watch the acrobatics or had gone home for the evening. But a few people still hung around the exit to the amphitheater waiting for their congratulatory minutes with the major.
Perrin felt a bit guilty for being so late. He was sure his wife would understand about his having to win the hearts and minds of the people again. But now, for the past few minutes, he was feeling agitated.
A sudden flood of concern overwhelmed him. His left hand automatically patted his sword strapped to his side. Twice at home he had taken it off, thinking that a debate was no place to be armed. But each time as he removed it, a gnawing in his belly forced him to put it back on. Part of the uniform, he rationalized to himself as he finally left the house with his family, the heavy steel glinting at his side. Now he was thankful it was there, but he wasn’t sure why.
Something in the air felt wrong. The sun had set, but something else was changing the atmosphere besides the cool breeze coming from the north. Again a wave of concern overcame him, and in his mind he saw clearly Hogal and Tabbit. He knew he was no longer concentrating on the conversation he was having with a young miller. He couldn’t think of anything but his sword and the Densals.
The feeling came a third time so powerfully that he started shaking his head at the confused young man. “I’m very sorry, but you must excuse me. I need to—”
He didn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he sprinted his fastest across the village green toward the Densals’ house.
---
Mahrree was fastening her black cloak around her neck. This was not the time to be sitting in the house fretting. Something was happening near her mother’s house, she was sure of it.
“Yes, I’m leaving,” she said calmly to the soldier who stared at her in shock. “Now, Private, upstairs in the bedroom are the major’s children, asleep. They’ll most likely not awake until dawn—”
“Mrs. Shin,” the soldier sputtered, “I am here under strict orders to protect—”
“The major’s family, correct? Well, his family’s upstairs, where you should be.”
She ignored his wide open mouth which she could see clearly, even though it was growing dark.
“Don’t count on the dog for any assistance. He won’t even bark, as I’m sure you noticed. Now, every window is barred, and you’ll secure this door behind me. The main bedroom window is impossible to reach from the outside. All other entry points can be seen from the landing at the top of the stairs. That’s where I suggest you draw your sword and wait. No one gets to that bedroom, understand? Only the major or me. Do you understand?”
He nodded his head in surprise. “Yes ma’am, but, but . . .”
“But what, soldier?” she asked impatiently.
“I’m . . . I’m a soldier, not a baby tender!”
“Where’s Corporal Zenos?” Mahrree demanded, already knowing the answer.
“Most likely on patrol, ma’am.”
“Then you’re my new baby tender this evening. Now draw your sword!” She’d been practicing that commanding voice for the past year, matching the cadence her husband employed on the dog whenever he was on the sofa. It rarely worked.
But it worked on the soldier. The private drew his sword immediately and stared in surprise that he was obeying a woman.
Mahrree stepped out of the back door and glared at the young private. He nodded in startled obedience. Mahrree shut the door and heard it latch securely behind her. She turned around in time to see two more soldiers come running down the alley and jump over her fence. She wondered why she even had a gate.
“Mrs. Shin! We’ve been sent by Karna and Neeks to—”
“I know, provide protection. Very good. One of you take the front door,” she commanded, “the other take the back. And don’t let the private that’s locked in my house out until the danger’s passed, even if he’s got a crying baby.”
The soldiers looked at each other in amazement as Mrs. Shin slipped quickly past them and down the alley into the twilight.
She heard a frantic, “Mrs. Shin! You can’t leave!”
But she was already out of their sight.
---
Perrin knew the fastest route to his great aunt and uncle’s house. North past the village green, between the rows of shops, up to the northwest along the road, turn west at the third intersection, then two houses down the alley to their back door. No, maybe he should go to the front instead, although he never used that door—
He saw the route over and over as he sprinted, wishing his legs would travel as fast as his mind. He leaped over a small fence, darted around another corner, and just as he came into view of the Densals’ house, he saw a figure in dark clothes dash to the back door of the Densals. It glanced his way before turning and kicking in the door.
“NO!” Perrin roared.
The figure lunged through the open door into the kitchen of the Densals.
Perrin was only seconds behind him, but seconds was all the intruder needed. As Perrin rushed to the opened back door he saw the Guarder punch the old rector in the jaw. Hogal slumped to the floor just as Perrin burst into the kitchen.
With a swift kick Perrin knocked the legs out from under the man in dark clothing, grabbed him around the throat, and dragged him, gasping for breath, out of the house to the back garden. The writhing Guarder produced a jagged dagger and twisted to slash Perrin. But Perrin kicked him in the chest, knocking the wind out of him.
In one smooth motion practiced thousands of times for this very moment, he drew his sword and plunged it into the man’s heart.
The Guarder was dead.
---
Mahrree’s bravery lasted until halfway to her mother’s house where she stopped to catch her breath and wonder what in the world she thought she was doing. She slipped into the relative safety of a large bush and tried to calm her heart that was beating far too rapidly.
“My mother,” she reminded herself as she took deep quiet breaths. Perrin’s duty was to Edge, her children were watched over, but her mother . . .
She peered out of the bush and looked cautiously around. What was she even running from? Or into? What was the danger that caused Karna or Neeks to send soldiers to guard her? Mahrree chided herself again for not asking the soldiers what was going on, but she knew if she went back now they’d never let her leave again. Major’s orders.
Somewhere in the distance glass tinkled, as if a large window had shattered, and she heard another cry for help.
---
Perrin pulled out his sword with grunt of satisfaction and spun back to the kitchen. “Hogal! Are you all righ
t?” he shouted as he rushed in.
Tabbit was already on the floor next to him, sobbing silently.
Hogal opened his eyes. “I’m sorry, my boy. You were right. I should have kept that door locked.”
Perrin crouched next to him and carefully touched his cheek that was turning purple. “That’s all right,” he said gently. “That’s what I’m here for.” He looked up at the open door, then quickly around the kitchen. “Always in twos . . . so where’s the other one?”
Tabbit fell into Perrin’s arms and he cradled her small, shaking body.
“It’s all right, Auntie. You’re safe now. I’m not going to leave you alone. You’re both coming with me.”
---
Mahrree peered out to the road. For some reason she thought it would be busy, but it was unnervingly still. She strained to see any activity and realized with a shudder that not every person running in the dark might be coming to her rescue. She thought of running back home but then remembered three armed soldiers were guarding her house.
Her babies were safe. Her mother wasn’t.
Mahrree took a deep breath, wished she had relieved herself at home before she left, and ran across the cobblestones in her best quiet run. Focused only on reaching her mother’s house, she heard a dog barking, then a distant shout on another road, but kept running.
I’m the brave wife of the major, she repeated to herself. I’m the brave wife of the major.
If she kept thinking it, she might believe it. To the right and a road or so away she heard men shouting. In front of her, two soldiers darted across the road toward the voices.
At least, she hoped they were soldiers.
I’m the brave wife of the major . . .
She surprised herself with how quickly she reached her mother’s. She ran first to the front door then changed her mind and crept around to the back. Through the windows she saw several candles were lit and she wondered how to enter the house without terrifying her mother. She peered through the new expensive, thin clear glass windows her mother had just installed and saw Hycymum already had company in the form of her neighbors, the Arkys, sitting around the kitchen table.
Mahrree stopped, strangely disappointed. Here she had run, bravely she reminded herself, and her mother was . . . entertaining guests?
Then another thought struck her. Maybe her mother wasn’t in trouble. Maybe she didn’t even know anything was wrong. They were probably in there gossiping and Mahrree had run in dead terror to interrupt their dessert!
She sighed, feeling a little foolish, and knocked on the back door. Without waiting for a response she walked in.
“Merciful Creator!” her mother cried out. “Child, I thought you were one of them!”
The pale look of surprise on Hycymum’s face told Mahrree her mother did know there was trouble. That made her feel better, and a bit self-satisfied. “Intruders don’t knock, Mother!” Mahrree insisted, shutting the door and locking it. She pointed at the door. “And why wasn’t that locked?”
“How would you know intruders don’t knock?” Mrs. Peto demanded, now fanning herself.
Mahrree stopped. “I don’t know, I just assumed.” She shook her head in exasperation and latched the door herself. “I came to see if you’re all right. I heard a scream—”
That’s when she looked at closely at the Arkys for the first time. Mr. Arky was holding a thick wet cloth that was slowly growing red around his arm. His face looked bruised and cut, and he was visibly shaken, but he offered Mahrree a weak smile. Mrs. Arky was quietly sobbing as she took another cloth and dabbed small cuts around his face with it.
“Oh no!” Mahrree sat down on the remaining chair. “What happened?”
“They were in our house!” Mrs. Arky sniffled.
Her husband tried to pat her on the arm soothingly as she wiped his face again. He shifted uncomfortably in the chair, but Mahrree was sure it wasn’t because of her mother’s new lilac colored sheepskin covers.
“Who?” Mahrree looked at her mother.
“They’re still after him.” Hycymum shook her head. She stood up and picked up a large bowl which Mahrree hadn’t noticed until then. She dumped the water in the sink then pumped fresh cold water into the bowl and replaced it on the table. Mahrree was surprised at her mother’s relative calm, and the fact that she didn’t care blood was staining her second best table cloth or her third best kitchen cloths.
“We all came home from the debate together,” Hycymum explained. “By the way, Perrin looked so handsome up there tonight in his new jacket. It’s about time his father sent that. I’m sure I saw a few women swooning—”
“Mother—”
“I’m sorry. We came home together and the Arkys went into their home to find—,” her mother stumbled on the words, her voice suddenly becoming emotional, “—men fighting in their gathering room.”
“It was in shambles, Mahrree!” Mrs. Arky sobbed. “I don’t know if the Guarder did it all, or if it was from the fight with the soldier.”
“Guarder!” Mahrree gasped. “Are you sure?” Guarders had never made it into the village before; Perrin had always stopped them at the forest’s edge.
But not this time.
Mr. Arky nodded. “He wore dark clothing and even had something smeared on his face to make it shadowy.”
“I think it rubbed all over the sofa when the soldier slammed him down on it,” Hycymum shook her head sadly. “We’ll have to spend some time on that stain, I’m afraid.” She picked up another cloth, soaked it in the water, and handed it to Mrs. Arky. As she wrapped her husband’s bleeding arm, Hycymum took the reddened cloth to the sink and wrung it out.
Mahrree was beside herself. “So what happened?!”
Mr. Arky stopped his wife’s wiping for a moment and gently held her arm. He was a man who liked to get right to the point. “We saw the door was opened when the three of us came home. Your mother was going to join us for some dessert. We looked in, saw two men throwing each other around the room—”
Mahrree put a worried hand to her face.
“—my wife screamed, your mother gasped, my wife screamed again—”
The two screams she heard, Mahrree thought. She nodded for him to continue.
Mr. Arky plowed onward. “—The soldier and the Guarder continued fighting, I tried to help,” he held up his arm lamely in illustration, “and was shoved through the large window,” he pointed to his cut-up face. “Then the Guarder,” his voice grew husky as he recalled the image, “smashed the head of the soldier into the corner of the table—”
Mahrree winced and put both hands in front of her mouth. When Mr. Arky said the word “soldier,” she felt as if she had been hit in the stomach.
“As the soldier tried to stand up, the Guarder ran out the back door,” he continued, and seemed to be losing his breath. “Two more soldiers came out of nowhere in the alley and chased him down the road. I don’t know where they went. The soldier that was hurt . . . well, he wouldn’t even stay for us to help him. He had quite a gash on his head.”
Mrs. Arky started to sob again and Hycymum wiped a tear from her own face.
“He couldn’t run, or even walk straight,” Mr. Arky whispered. “He looked in bad shape as he stumbled from the house. I wished I could have stopped him, but,” Mr. Arky’s lip quivered as he tried to regain his composure. He shook his head and tried to smile instead. “Your husband’s men did a fine job tonight, Mrs. Shin.”
Mahrree sat with her hands covering her mouth, as if she could stop the terrible stream of words that were uttered. She half wished he hadn’t reached his point so quickly.
“Mahrree,” her mother said softly, tears falling down her face. “The soldier fighting the Guarder, I wished I could have helped him, but by the time I thought to go find him, it was too dark.”
“Well Mother, you shouldn’t have. You didn’t know who was out there! The Guarders always work in twos, so the other one could have been—”
&
nbsp; “But Mahrree, I think the injured soldier was your Shem.”
Mahrree felt another punch to her stomach. “Oh, Mother, no.” But she already knew it, as soon as Mr. Arky mentioned a hurt soldier. She looked out the dark window, wondering if maybe her favorite corporal was lying out in the garden, or if she dared run out into the night again . . .
“Mahrree, I’m so sorry,” her mother’s words cut into her thoughts. “It’s too dangerous to consider going out again.”
Mahrree turned to her mother.
“Yes, I know what you’re thinking. If you were foolish enough to come find me, you’d be foolish enough to go out looking for Shem. Don’t do it, Mahrree! Just stay here with me. Please?”
Mahrree hadn’t noticed before how fearful Hycymum’s eyes were. “Of course, Mother! That’s why I’m here. Three soldiers are watching the children, and Perrin wore his sword—”
She felt her chest tighten and suddenly into her mind flashed a horrible vision of Perrin lying on the ground in splashes of red. What she imagined must have reflected on her face.
Her mother reached over and grasped her hand. “He’ll get them, Mahrree! I have complete faith in our Perrin. You should too.”
Mahrree nodded her head and blinked back worried tears. She was the brave wife of the major, after all. She shouldn’t think of Perrin right now. Or their children, or of Shem. Or of anyone or anything else. It was no use. She was powerless to change anything, no matter how much she worried. She was stuck there. It would be worse than foolish to try to leave again alone. She felt chaos swirling throughout the village like a demented twister, and wondered how far it would travel before it died away.
She looked at the back door and suddenly knew what to do. It must be part of every woman’s constitution, because for generations women have done the same thing when faced with a crisis they were powerless to prevent or fight. Besides, it would give her an opportunity to look at the gardens for a blue uniform.
“Mother,” Mahrree said, “do you feel the need to clean something?”
Hycymum slapped the table. “Absolutely! Mrs. Arky, we’ll be at your house tidying up while you two rest here.”
---
Perrin surveyed the village green. The bonfire was burning well, bathing the Densals in heat and light as they shared a large blanket while huddled together on the grass. They weren’t the only ones there. Dozens of people shared the fire, bruises, and stories they related to the enforcement officers that took notes of what happened, with more villagers rushing over every minute.
A few paces away stood Staff Sergeant Gizzada, Perrin’s very round and normally jovial supply master, holding out his sword tenuously. The former cook always kept it sheathed, and he continued to glance at it as if it would turn on him at any moment. His demeanor was exceptionally somber, and his dark skin paled to gray as if realized he was easily the largest target in the area. The acrobatics at the amphitheater ended early when it was realized the Guarders were attacking. Villagers who lived south of the green cautiously made their ways home in large groups for protection. But many who lived in the north decided to remain at the green and eagerly fled to the bonfire behind the rotund staff sergeant, feeling far more confidence in him and his trembling sword than he felt in himself.
Perrin noticed Gizzada frequently looking over at him, as if he took his bravery from the major who shouted orders to the soldiers that brought him reports. Perrin nodded back assurance to Gizzada, who seemed to grow braver once half a dozen soldiers came to help him guard the increasing mass of citizens, and his grip on his weapon became more secure.
The night was fully dark now and Perrin strode over to two soldiers that rushed to the area. They were carrying a third.
“Major! The private took a knife wound to the side. But we killed the Guarder, sir. Sergeant Robi is staying with the family until someone can retrieve the body.”
“Excellent,” said Major Shin. “Bring the private over to the other side. We’re setting up a section for the wounded by the second bonfire being started. We don’t need the citizens seeing more blood.”
As Major Shin escorted the soldiers over to the more secluded spot, one of the village doctors jogged to the green, his bag in hand. “I came as soon as Chief Curglaff notified me,” he panted. “I understand we can expect more coming in?”
Major Shin nodded. “My surgeon should be joining us soon. I think the private needs attention first, but then when you’re finished, please check on Rector Densal.”
The doctor nodded and went to work.
Another soldier ran out of the darkness and up to the major.
“Well?” Shin demanded.
The soldier shook his head reluctantly. “No sign, sir.”
“Are you sure? Did you go to the right house?!”
“I’m sure, sir,” he shrank a little under the fury in Major Shin’s eyes.
The major looked around in the dark, his lips pressed together. He groaned and looked sharply again at the soldier.
The soldier anticipated his question. “The three soldiers are there, sir, dispatched by Lieutenant Karna. The children are safe but . . . there’s still no Mrs. Shin. It seems she left, sir. On her own.”
Perrin rubbed his forehead and nearly forgot his pledge to Hogal that he’d never swear. He looked around again and didn’t see what he was looking for. “Get three more soldiers. Go in pairs. The four of you don’t stop until you find her, even if it means checking every inch all the way to the forest, understand?”
The soldier saluted and ran his fastest into the dark.
Perrin groaned. “Mahrree, what do you think you’re doing?”
---
When the small hours of the night arrived, the Arky gathering room looked almost as if nothing had happened. Once they got the sofa scrubbed clean, the women went to retrieve Mr. Arky. The neighborhood had been quiet for some time, so Mahrree felt confident that the second Guarder, if there had been one, was long gone.
Mr. Arky seemed to have more injuries than only to his arm and face, because as they stood him up he felt a sharp pain in his ribs and his leg refused to move properly. Mahrree and Mrs. Arky supported him between them, slowly walking him across the dark gardens to his house, while Hycymum made a bed for him on their sofa which was easier than trying to get him upstairs to his bedroom.
Once they gently lay him down, Mrs. Arky pushed up her husband’s trouser’s pant leg to discover an enormous bruise forming on his shin. Mr. Arky also had difficulty breathing, probably from cracked or broken ribs, but the idea of venturing into the night to find a doctor was unthinkable. Mrs. Arky bound her husband’s wounds as best she could and Hycymum gathered several pillows. Together the women found a way to try to keep Mr. Arky comfortable until dawn.
As Mr. Arky tried to rest, Mrs. Arky helped her friends sweep up glass, pick up books and scattered papers, stack broken objects carefully on the table to consider for repairing later, and discuss the most mundane things they could to keep from thinking about anything else. They speculated unemotionally about the substance used to blacken the man’s arms and face to hide himself in the shadows. They commented about the lack of quality in the vases that were cracked and broken, since they really should’ve held up better. And they noted how much more work they seemed to get done in the middle of the night when there were no other distractions.
When the gathering room was put back together again, and the broken windows covered with old blankets, Mrs. Arky took inventory. Along with most of her silver forks and knives, she noticed that several small clay statues of pigs, covered in gold and accented with red clear stones for eyes, were missing.
“The Golden Ruby Herd,” sighed Hycymum sadly.
“They were always tacky,” Mrs. Arky declared. “My mother-in-law gave them to me, probably as a commentary on my family. I never liked her anyway.”
Next they began working on the kitchen floor and table, scrubbing the wood to remove the drying blood that Mahrree tr
ied to imagine wasn’t Shem’s. She also tried again to not think about her husband and what he might be doing right now, and to not worry about her children whom she prayed every five minutes were still sound asleep and not needing her.
Her mind was positively full of things not to think about.
Suddenly Mahrree heard horses’ hooves. She froze and looked at her mother and Mrs. Arky.
They reflected her alarmed expression.
Mahrree stood tentatively and looked out the side window over to her mother’s house.
Two soldiers rushed to the front door of Hycymum Peto’s and knocked. “Mrs. Shin, are you there?” they called loudly.
Mrs. Peto and Mrs. Arky stared at Mahrree, unsure of how to respond.
“Mother, I need to go.” Mahrree bent over and kissed her mother on the cheek.
“Please be careful!” Hycymum said.
“And thank you. And thank the soldiers,” added Mrs. Arky.
Mahrree quickly slipped through the back door, then opened it again.
“When will you women learn to lock these doors!?” She waited until she heard Mrs. Arky latch it.
Mahrree walked briskly through the identical gardens that used the same gardener and strained in the darkness to see anything that looked like a body lying in the bushes or crushing the flowers. Seeing nothing that was shaped as Shem Zenos, she trotted to the soldiers who were beginning to go to her mother’s back door. They looked at her, then at the house in confusion.
“Ma’am? Mrs. Shin? We thought this was your mother’s house,” one of them asked.
“Yes,” she answered, “but it wasn’t the one broken into tonight, was it?” She sounded far braver than she felt.
The soldiers exchanged relieved looks and smiled. “The major’s been looking for you, ma’am. He demands that you be brought to him immediately.”
Tears filled her eyes. He was looking for her.
Mahrree remembered the words of her mother-in-law: his duty is first to his village. She’d assumed she wouldn’t see or hear from him until it was all over, whenever that might be. She’d be the last he’d seek out, she was sure of it.
But she was wrong. She was part of the village, so he must be concerned about her as well. Yet she knew it was more than that. She wasn’t the last on his list.
She nodded at the soldiers in agreement, and as one of them helped her on the horse she realized just how exhausted and terrified she was. While the first soldier took his mount, the second soldier climbed up behind Mahrree and put his arm gingerly around her waist.
“It’s all right, soldier. You better hold me tighter. I’m not exactly a horse woman, and I’m a bit tired right now. The major will never forgive you if I fall off.”
The soldier seemed grateful for the permission. “Yes ma’am!” With a much firmer grip around her, he kicked the horse.
That’s when Mahrree remembered how much she hated riding. She would’ve complained about the jostling and the speed had she not also realized that the faster the horse moved, the sooner she could get off of it.
Within minutes they were in the center of Edge and fast approaching the fields surrounding the amphitheater. Mahrree saw two large fires and many shadows walking or sitting around them. It was an exclusive campout that the northern part of the village was invited to, but there wasn’t any singing or laughing.
As the horses slowed to a trot, then stopped, Mahrree surveyed the crowd, looking for Perrin. She didn’t immediately see him, but she recognized many of her neighbors and friends in the firelight. All of them wore expressions similar to the Arkys. Stunned. Frightened. Angry. Weary.
And eerily quiet.
Mahrree initially thought maybe there’d be howling and shouts and loud sobbing, but every face she saw appeared too drained or simply too shocked to do much more than sit and breathe and maybe weep.
Women sat on logs next to the fire crying softly, and some held their sleepy children close to them. Men stood in small groups near their wives and spoke to each other earnestly in low voices. Beyond the first fire was a second, where several people lay on the flattened grasses and were attended to by doctors. Surrounding it all were a dozen soldiers, swords drawn, joined by several enforcement officers holding long knives, likely borrowed from the soldiers.
Even gentle, lumbering Gizzada wore an imposing look of readiness as he pointed his sword and waited for something more aggravating than an overcooked steak sandwich.
The soldier released his grip on Mahrree, slid off the horse, then helped her down. She could barely stand. So many people! More than two hundred, which must have meant there were more than fourteen Guarders this time. She felt sick at the thought.
Several people looked her way and gave her weak smiles or nods.
From the corner of her eye she saw someone approaching her from the shadows of the trees, silhouetted against the second fire. The massive figure moved swiftly and menacingly. She recognized the gait and almost dreaded turning to him. As much as she wanted to see him, she didn’t want to see him like this.
Perrin grabbed her arm and spun her roughly to face him. “Where did you go? And why are you issuing commands to my soldiers?”
Mahrree bit her lower lip and tried to contain her own worry as she looked up into his angry face.
“Major Shin,” sang a shaky voice from the fire that cut through the darkness. “You know you thank the Creator she’s well. Why don’t you give her a hug and a kiss? Make an old man happy?”
Several people laughed softly, grateful for an excuse to do so.
Mahrree glanced toward the fire and saw the Densals sitting huddled together. He heart ached at the sight of them. Hogal was bruised and Tabbit held a cloth to his face, but he nodded encouragingly at Mahrree.
She looked at her husband’s eyes and recognized the worry behind his anger. “The children are all right, aren’t they? They have three soldiers still, right?” she asked timidly.
“Yes!” he said crossly. Then his face softened slightly and he sighed. “But from what I’ve heard I don’t think Private Aims will recover too quickly, being forced into baby tending.” A smile was trying to form around his lips, but he killed it as he took her by the shoulders. “Don’t you ever, ever do that again! We’ve discussed what to do. We’ve practiced it. You secure the house, and you stay!”
He’d forgotten he had an audience until he heard his great uncle say sharply, “Perrin!” His softness was gone, as was his patience with his nephew.
Startled, Mahrree didn’t dare peek to see the expression on Rector Densal’s face that matched his reprimand.
Without taking his eyes off his wife, Major Shin raised his voice. “Tabbit, can’t you do anything about your husband?”
“I’m afraid not,” she replied feebly. “You best make him happy, Perrin.”
Perrin glanced at his relatives then looked back at his wife who was doing her best to appear apologetic.
Mahrree saw a familiar spark in his eye, dimly.
He turned her roughly again, this time positioning himself between her and the villagers. “Just to make the old man happy,” he said, “but he doesn’t get to watch.” He kissed her quickly and gave her a hug so tight that he squeezed tears from her eyes. “Don’t make me have to worry about you like that again!” he said in her ear.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” she whispered, grateful to feel his arms around her. One storm passed, she thought briefly, while another still raged.
“Ahh, that’s much better!” Hogal’s cheerful voice came to them again from the fire.
A few chuckles accompanied him.
Perrin and Mahrree pulled apart to hear the rector say, “And that, my friends, is how they should have ended that nasty second debate of theirs—in each other’s arms. Well, as they say, best now than never was. Now, Tabbit, I can die a happy man.”
Perrin turned and glared at him, but gave him a quick wink. Mahrree giggled nervously and sent a look o
f thanks to Hogal.
He nodded back, waggled his eyebrows, but winced as the motion reminded him of the bruises spreading on his face.
Tabbit immediately placed the damp cloth on his cheek again.
Perrin turned to Mahrree with a completely different face. Major Shin was back on duty. “Can you help?”
Mahrree shook the exhausted fog out of her head. “Yes, yes. What do you need?”
“Help with the wounded.”
He led her to the other side of the second fire where close to twenty people lay on fort-issued blankets. Two men, with numerous gashes and cuts, were trying unsuccessfully to rest on the ground, while their wives received instructions from one of the village doctors on how to treat their wounds. An older man cradled his adult daughter’s head as the fort’s surgeon gently pressed around her belly, and she cringed in pain. A child with extensive bruises huddled quietly in his mother’s arms, sniffling as she stroked his hair, and several soldiers lay side by side, with a variety of body parts wrapped and splinted.
Further in the distance, beyond the glow of the fire, were three bodies covered completely.
“Oh Perrin,” she stopped in her tracks when she saw them. “Who?”
“Guarders,” he said coolly. “And, so you don’t have to ask me later, two by my hand. One was at Tabbit and Hogal’s, the other was here trying to get into the trees. Fortunately for me he was a poor climber for someone raised in the forests.”
Mahrree hadn’t looked at his clothes yet, but in the flickering bonfire she could see splashed evidence of what Perrin had done. The first thing her weary brain thought was, That new jacket’s going to need a lot of soaking—
“Over here,” he pulled her away. “This one needs your special attention.”
Mahrree stopped suddenly at the quiet body lying at her feet, and she whimpered softly as she gazed upon the almost-unrecognizable face of Corporal Shem Zenos.
The fort surgeon joined them. In his blunt way he said, “Mrs. Shin—obviously found to be safe. Good. Corporal Zenos here suffered severe head trauma, not sure how. Soldiers found him stumbling aimlessly a few roads away from here.”
“I know how he got hurt,” Mahrree whispered.
Perrin looked at her quizzically.
“In the Arkys’ house. He was fighting a Guarder, and his head was . . .”
Mahrree couldn’t use the same words Mr. Arky had.
“—into the table. The corner of it. I was about to clean the table when you sent for me.”
Perrin nodded in understanding.
The surgeon nodded too. “That’s consistent with the trauma. Mrs. Shin, stay with him and watch him closely. Change his bandages, monitor his bleeding, keep a finger on his pulse. Tell me when he gets worse—labored breathing or slowing heart rate. Talk to him. Let me know if he regains consciousness. Major, looks like we have more coming in.” The surgeon jogged away into the darkness.
Mahrree gulped hard at the words “when he gets worse . . . if he regains consciousness.”
She knelt down and peeled back the cloth to more clearly see the swelling on Shem’s head. She was grateful the lighting was so bad.
Perrin squeezed her shoulder then jogged after the surgeon.
She vaguely heard him shouting to another group of soldiers that rode into the camp. Something else was happening, but Mahrree had no more energy to worry about it. All she could think of was Shem. She took new bandages and carefully laid them on the bulge on his forehead that slowly oozed.
“Shem, Shem,” she whispered. “You look terrible. What happened to you?” Her lip quivered. The more she thought about his misshapen forehead, the more she realized how serious his condition was.
“Shem, you can’t go now! I haven’t found you a wife yet. I promised you.”
She quit fighting the tears and let them fall on his bruised face. She guiltily wiped them off with the hem of her cloak and wondered what else she could do. For as close as he was to them, she knew very little about him. She’d asked him a few times about his family, but all he said was that he had an older sister and two nieces. His mother had passed away when he was young, but he still had a father. He said he didn’t like to talk about them much because then he missed them more. Mahrree prayed they were safe. Then she prayed for Shem, and wondered how she could contact his family if . . .
No.
She wouldn’t let it happen. Not if the Creator would let him stay.
She sat down more comfortably in the dirt. The surgeon said talk to him, she reminded herself. She searched for the right words. None came, but she had to say something.
“Shem! My children still need an uncle,” she whispered earnestly. “Their only grandfather sees them but twice a year, and even then he doesn’t hold them because he says his medals will scratch their faces.” She chuckled sadly. “I need you!”
She thought she saw the corner of his mouth twitch slightly.
Encouraged, she tried some more. Leaning closer she said, “Shem, they need an uncle to tie up. We need to train you for your own family. Don’t you dare go, you hear me? What would I say to your father? I’ve never even met him.”
She watched the edge of his mouth closely.
Nothing.
She sighed and leaned against a log that stood nearby. She had no idea what to do next. “Ah, Shem. Please, don’t leave us. I don’t have much confidence in Aims. He’d be a terrible replacement.” She sniffed and sighed again. “Shem, who am I kidding? No one could replace you.”
She took up his still hand and was comforted that it felt warm. She slid a finger over to his wrist to feel his pulse. Still there. She noticed Perrin watching her from across the fire and she shook her head.
He gave her a quick nod, then turned back to discuss something with the chief of enforcement.
She searched for things to say, but felt silly talking out loud. But then again, no one else was near enough to hear. “He has plans for you, Zenos. When your two years are up, he wants you to reenlist, long-term. He needs you, too. The major thinks you have great potential, Zenos.” She watched his mouth.
Nothing.
She knew what she wanted to say, but hesitated. She examined the bulge on his head, then closed her eyes. She’d always regret not telling him if she didn’t do it now, if it became too late. She took a deep breath and squeezed his hand.
“Shem, I want you to know, you’re like . . . you’re like the younger brother neither of us had. We both feel it. We didn’t even know we needed a brother until you came along. Not only because we use you as a baby tender,” she chuckled sadly, “but because you fit with us. I think Perrin sends us messages just to see you and give you a reason to visit the children and me. Last week, when you came by at dinner with that message from the fort and finally agreed to stay to eat with us, it felt so natural. You feel like family, Shem. Our family.”
Mahrree looked around, feeling embarrassed to have revealed so much out loud. No one was around that was conscious enough to hear her. She looked at Shem’s face.
Still nothing.
She squeezed his hand again. “Now, for your family, Shem Zenos, open your eyes. Let me know you’re all right then we can both sleep a while.”
She paused.
“As an annoying older sister, I demand you give me a sign you are in there. Call me Mahrree, and I’ll let you sleep!”
Nothing.
“All right, as the wife of your major, I insist . . .”
She gave up.
“Oh Shem.” She rubbed his hand absent-mindedly and wondered what a big sister would do to take the dried blood off it. She didn’t want to leave his side, even for a moment, to get a wet cloth from the surgeon’s aid. She smiled as an idea came to her.
“Did I ever tell you about our last debate and what Rector Densal did to us? Since you can’t interrupt or protest, you’re going to hear about it. He started off by getting suggestions from the children for debates, or so he claimed
. . .”
For the next hour and a half Mahrree told the still figure of Shem all about the topics Hogal had lined up for them, including the suggestion that they debate about continuing the debates as husband and wife.
She ignored the arrival of additional wounded and dead Guarders. It was only when Perrin stood over her that she looked up. Behind him the coming dawn lightened the sky. Mahrree noticed soldiers walking behind him carrying another wrapped body.
“Mahrree,” Perrin’s voice was heavy. “That Guarder body they’re bringing in was just taken at our house. The soldier at our front door was wounded. We were fortunate that two passing soldiers brought down the Guarder, or else. . .” He shook his head not wanting to finish the sentence.
“Perrin,” Mahrree gasped. “Our babies!” She struggled to her feet, barely remembering to place Shem’s hand back carefully on the ground.
“They’re still safe,” he said, taking her in his arms and kissing her quickly on her forehead. “But the corporal here will take you home.”
For once Mahrree wished a horse could have traveled faster. She didn’t even wait for the soldier to help her off as they stopped in front of her house. She fell gracelessly on the cobblestones and scrambled to her front door. Mrs. Hersh was already in the yard trying vainly to sweep the blood off the weedy dirt.
The soldier at the door saluted when he saw her. “Ma’am, no one’s gone in or out.”
“I know. Well done, Private.” She tried to open the door. “Aims!” she shouted. “It’s all right! Let me in. I relieve you of duty.”
She heard footsteps come down the stairs and a moment later the door was unlatched and the iron bars shifted.
Private Aims opened the door, his sword still at the ready. “All is quiet, ma’am. Has been all night. And I thank you for helping me realize that I’m not yet ready to marry or be a father.” Then he marched out smartly.
Mahrree rushed up the stairs and quietly entered her bedroom. Her two children continued to sleep peacefully, sprawled on the large bed. Mahrree sighed a prayer of gratitude and crawled into bed between them. She wrapped an arm around each little body and fell into a gloriously deep sleep.
---
Three hours later, with the sun climbing the morning sky, a bleary-eyed mother and her two happily awake toddlers secured in a wagon made their way through the quiet yet surprisingly busy roads. People stood in small huddles of discussion all along the way to the village green. No one, it seemed, had slept in Edge, and it showed in their haggard faces.
Two soldiers accompanied the little family outing and stood guard once the mother nodded her thanks to them. The bonfires had died away, but half of the village was now there, giving reports to enforcement officers and Lieutenant Karna.
Mahrree knew this wasn’t the best place to bring her family, but she suspected Perrin would feel better seeing that his children were safe. Edgers comforted their friends and neighbors, fashioned ways to carry the wounded back to their homes, and—she observed with no small sense of pride—looked at the major with immense respect.
As she made her way through the quiet crowd to the make-shift command center, several people stopped her for a hug and patted her children’s heads. For as terrible as the night had been, many seemed to realize that it could have been far worse. She picked up snatches of conversations as she passed.
“The soldiers were right there—the Guarder couldn’t do much but fight them.”
“It seems there were at least twenty of them.”
“Only in the first group! I heard that one scout saw them come running out of the woods west of here and was immediately on their trail. Without him, who knows . . .”
“I have to admit, my faith in the Administrators just increased. They really knew what they were talking about.”
When Mahrree heard that her stomach churned unexpectedly.
Sometimes it all seemed so convenient.
She shook the thought out of her head, too weary to think about it.
There was a clearing between the villagers and a small group of people which consisted of the magistrate, Perrin, and the two other rectors and their wives, all in deep conversation. The women had lists and Mahrree suspected more cleaning details were being formed.
She glanced over at the wounded. All of the soldiers were still resting on the ground, but wagons were approaching to convey them back to the fort. She heard familiar footsteps behind her, and they weren’t nearly as angry as a few hours before.
“Mahrree!” Perrin said, and she turned to give him her best smile. His face looked more like a weary husband and father now rather than the Commander of Edge. He hugged her and sighed. “The children look well,” he whispered in her ear. “How are you?”
“I’m perfectly fine,” she whispered back. “The major did a wonderful job last night. How are you?”
Perrin pulled away and shook his head slightly. They would talk later, Mahrree knew. He crouched and hugged his children who tried to get out of the wagon to be with him.
“In a moment, I promise.” Then he reconsidered and quickly untied their ropes. His eyes were damp as he scooped up his daughter and son and held them close in each arm.
“Let’s go check on Zenos,” he said to Mahrree. “I’ve spent some time with all of the wounded, and I’m confident each will recover, since Grandpy Neeks already told them they would. They seem to be in reasonably good spirits. But Zenos . . . he’s still unresponsive.”
She’d dreaded this moment. They made their way to the soldiers on the ground and stopped at Shem. Mahrree couldn’t see any change in his condition. And fortunately his face was so bruised and swollen that Jaytsy and Peto didn’t recognize him, or they would have interpreted his prone position as an invitation to wriggle down from their father to jump on his stomach.
Mahrree knelt down by his side and looked under his bandages. The swelling seemed to have gone down a bit, and the oozing had dried, but he was far too still. “Oh, Shem,” she whispered miserably.
Perrin kicked his boot gently. “Up, Corporal! No more of this lounging around. You think you earned a rest last night? Simply because you saw them first? That wasn’t my deal. I said a day off for the man who first sees a Guarder after the conflict was over. Not in the middle of it!” Perrin looked at Mahrree.
She raised her eyebrows at him. “You really think he would want to wake up for that?” she scolded.
“Lies,” someone whispered.
Perrin and Mahrree twisted to Corporal Zenos.
The corner of Shem’s mouth tugged slightly. “Major lies,” he whispered and his face contorted into a pitiful smile.
“Shem!” Mahrree cried and grabbed his hand.
Perrin crouched by his side, trying to balance his children on each knee. “Shem, what are you trying to say?”
Their favorite soldier slowly opened the one eye that wasn’t swollen shut. “You, sir, lie,” he whispered slowly. “Sheep can’t build houses.”
Perrin stared at Mahrree, flabbergasted.
Mahrree’s mouth fell open in understanding. The fifth debate. The house-building sheep and wolf story Perrin had made up to describe why stone was better than wood in house construction. Shem heard what she had said to him during the night.
He may have heard everything she said to him.
Perrin looked at Mahrree, devastated. “Brain injury?” he mouthed.
Mahrree laughed softly. “No Perrin, I think he’s going to be all right! And actually,” she said worriedly, “we may now be in even bigger danger.”
Perrin pivoted fully to her, quite a feat considering he was still balancing a child on each bent leg. “Exactly what did you say to him last night?”
“Enough to get him up, right?” Mahrree shrugged.
She squeezed Shem’s hand and he tried to wink at her with his one good eye. It was such a pathetic attempt that Perrin and Mahrree both laughed.
“Shem,” Perrin whispered so that no one el
se could hear, “don’t you ever scare me like that again. You understand?”
The corporal smiled faintly. “You’ve just called me Shem twice, sir,” he mumbled slowly, “and we’re both in uniform and not at your house. May have to report you for that.”
Perrin grinned. “Yep—he’s going to be fine. Not sure that’s a good thing, now . . .”
The surgeon verified their optimistic diagnosis a few minutes later, and three soldiers carefully loaded Zenos into a litter to bring him back to the fort.
Mahrree noticed one of the village doctors standing by and silently watching them. She didn’t think much of it until he approached them after they said farewell to Shem.
“Would you follow me please, Shin family?” he said kindly.
They would have followed him over the mountain had he asked it. The world had a little bit of justice again, Mahrree decided. The Guarder threat was fully contained. None of the young men who fought for the village had perished, all villagers were accounted for, albeit many were injured and terrorized, and even Zenos was still willing to risk life and limb to tease his commander.
And that commander, now replaced by a relieved father, alternated kissing the foreheads of his children to make them giggle. An enormous burden seemed to have lifted as Perrin carried his little ones, and he smiled easily. Mahrree put her arm contentedly around her husband as they walked. The Guarders may have infiltrated the village this time, but Major Shin was still victorious.
The doctor led them over to the smoking remains of the bonfire where a few tired villagers remained. Tabbit sat quietly on the matted grass with Hogal’s head cradled peacefully in her lap. Perrin and Mahrree stopped abruptly when they saw their favorite nosy old couple. Tabbit’s eyes were red and she gave them a courageous smile.
Her husband was unnaturally still.
“It’s all right, Perrin,” she said. “Remember, Hogal did say he could die a happy man.”
Chapter 12 ~ “You want to save the world? Then let’s save it!”