by Trish Mercer
“Lieutenant!” Corporal Zenos said, grinning widely. He sat down across the table from Walickiah, grimacing in pain, just as the lieutenant was finishing his dinner in the mess hall. “I didn’t get to thank you yet for your assistance today, nor apologize about jabbing you in the ribs.”
Walickiah leaned back and analyzed the corporal. His forwardness and friendliness were, again, not what he was expecting. “Not a problem,” he answered casually. “I understand the race was very close.”
“Oh, it was,” Zenos nodded. “I’ve never run so hard in my life. Right now I’m feeling every muscle, and each is complaining loudly!” He chuckled pitifully. “Fortunately Shin scheduled me to have the next few days off so I can recover. I should’ve won that race, Walickiah. A few things slowed me down, though. The first was an unexpected kiss at the village green.”
Walickiah smiled half way. “Heard about that. I understand a few soldiers offered to take your place when the rest of your disappointed admirers didn’t get their opportunities with you.”
Zenos smiled. “The second,” he said, focusing on a mug in front of him and turning it slowly, “was an unexpected man in the forest.” His voice was barely audible above the dull roar of the soldiers around them talking and eating. “I had to tag a tree on the edge of it, and there he was. You know what that man said to me, Lieutenant?” Zenos looked up into Walickiah’s eyes with a piercing glare.
Walickiah swallowed. “No one else mentioned seeing someone in the forest, Corporal.”
Zenos nodded slowly. “No one else noticed. Too caught up in the race, I suppose. But that man seemed to be expecting you.”
Walickiah’s eyes grew large. “This is not the place to speak,” he hissed.
Zenos looked around at the noisy mess hall and gave Walickiah an easy smile. “No one can hear anything,” he said quietly. “I’ve tested it many times. But I agree. I have a better place for us to speak.”
He stood up abruptly and walked out of the mess hall.
Walickiah followed him a moment later. He stepped into the hallway and saw Zenos walking stiffly out of the main reception room and toward the darkening compound. Walickiah maintained his gait several paces behind Zenos as the corporal headed out the quiet and darkening northeast gates.
The lieutenant glanced around before following. No one paid him any attention.
Outside the gates Zenos didn’t slow down but continued to head for the forest. Walickiah trotted to catch up to him.
“Zenos,” he whispered loudly, “where are you going?”
“Where no one else goes,” he said as Walickiah caught up to him.
“Because if you saw a Guarder, you should’ve reported it immediately. It didn’t matter if it was a race, the safety of the village is more important—”
Zenos stopped and spun to face the lieutenant. “No one can hear us. You can drop the act. I know who you are and why you’re here. Now follow me. I know you’re not afraid to.” Zenos took off again in a march, as quickly as his exhausted body would let him, to the fresh spring at the edge of the forest.
Walickiah glanced around again, saw no patrols nearby, and caught up to Zenos who headed straight into the trees. The lieutenant followed him into the forest without breaking his stride.
“Look, Corporal, I’ve been hoping for an opportunity to speak with you. I’ve been assigned to help you with—”
Something clamped onto the lower half of his face. He couldn’t even yank at it, because his arms were pulled roughly behind him, and a thick rope tied his wrists firmly together. The enormous dark brown hand holding his face suddenly let go, only to shove a piece of cloth into his mouth, then secure it with another rope around his head. It wasn’t even possible to kick, because something was wrapping tightly around his lower legs.
Zenos stood calmly at the edge of the spring watching as six large men in green and brown mottled clothing rendered Lieutenant Walickiah, in a matter of seconds, immobile and silent.
The corporal nodded once at the lieutenant who lay on the ground stunned, but growing furious. “Sorry about this. Really not in my nature. But then again, that’s what I told the last man sent to interfere. Shin’s mine, and I don’t need any assistance. You’re resigning your commission as of tonight.
“You really are very sloppy,” he said, taking a step closer. “There was no man at the edge of the forest. That you fell for that so easily demonstrates you’re not ready for this assignment. Tell me honestly, has Shin seen your handwriting?”
Walickiah stared at him for a few moments until what the corporal was saying made sense in his mind. Finally he shook his head.
“Any messages sent to him? Anything in your permanent file?”
Again Walickiah shook his head, now baffled. He was resigning? There had been another man? And who were these men?!
“But they’ll have a signature on file,” Zenos said, pulling a piece of parchment out of his jacket pocket. He unfolded it to show to Walickiah. “And your signature looks like this?”
Walickiah’s eyes bulged.
Zenos nodded in satisfaction. “So obviously I forged it well enough. So sorry to hear you’ve decided the army just isn’t for you,” he said, reading Lieutenant Walickiah’s resignation. “All that training and education, wasted. Oh well.” He folded it again and slipped it back into his pocket. “That’s all right, sir. I’m sure your new life will be far more interesting than you could’ve imagined. I’ll make sure your things are sent to you.”
Zenos nodded to the six burly men standing around their captive. Without a word they effortlessly hoisted the squirming Walickiah and hustled him deeper into the forest.
Zenos kneeled down by the spring—forgetting for the moment that his muscles weren’t going to be happy about that—and groaned as he scooped up a drink of water in his hands. “Best water in the world,” he said to no one in particular. “At least, in this world.”
With a pained grunt he stood up and walked out of the forest.
---
Barker lifted his head as he heard the quiet footsteps in the back alley. This late at night he knew what it was. He eagerly hauled himself up and lumbered to the back fence where a piece of bacon was waiting for him.
“Well done, well done,” the man in the black jacket said, scratching the giant dog around the ears as he gulped down the bacon. “Up, up, up.”
---
Mrs. Yung opened the back door hesitantly. In the middle of the night, one is never quite sure what to expect, even when one is married to the rector. Not everyone knocking at the door is wanting only advice.
She sighed loudly. “Thank the Creator you’re back!” and she grabbed Dormin’s arm to pull him into the dark house. “We expected you back two days ago. I was ready to make my way down to find you myself!”
Dormin hugged her in the dark kitchen. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you, but it took longer to find him than I thought it would.”
“But you found him again? Remarkable, Dormin! Truly.”
“No progress with him though, as you might imagine,” Dormin muttered. “But I did say good-bye.”
“Oh, I hope you did so carefully,” Mrs. Yung fretted. “We don’t encourage that, you know. People start asking questions—”
“He wasn’t interested in questions, Mrs. Yung. Instead, he was more worried about giving himself away. He’s up to something, and I need to find someone to tell. I was hoping that the rector—”
The door to the gathering room opened, and the shadow that came in was the size of Rector Yung. “Dormin! My prayers are answered!”
“Rector Yung,” Dormin paused to accept his embrace, “I think I’ve discovered a problem, but I don’t know who to tell.”
The door opened again, and Dormin held his breath as two more dark shadows, much larger than the small rector, came into the small kitchen.
“You tell us, Dormin, son of King Oren,” one of them said.
Dormin didn’t dare exhale until Mrs. Yung
patted his back. “It’s all right, Dormin. We’ve been expecting them. You can trust them.”
“Try us right now, Dormin,” said the other large man. “What’s your news?”
“It’s . . . it’s my brother,” he stammered. “He’s a guard—a lieutenant—in Chairman Mal’s mansion, but I don’t think he’ll be staying there.”
In the dark Dormin could barely make out the two men looking at each other. “Where do you think he’s going?” one asked.
“He has his heart set on taking back our mansion. The High General’s mansion,” he whispered.
The men seemed to nod to each other. “What name is he using?”
“Lieutenant Heth. I’m afraid I don’t have anything else to give you.”
“It’s enough, Dormin,” said the other man. “We have our own connections. We’ll be watching for Lieutenant Heth. And now, it’s time to go.”
Dormin swallowed hard. “Tonight?”
“It must be tonight,” Mrs. Yung said gently, squeezing his arm. “It’s not just about us, you know. There are others with more pressing needs.”
Dormin sighed. “Of course. I’m ready to leave Winds. And everything else.”
---
Two men sat in the dark office of an unlit building.
“‘I’m the Unk, good to meet you’? That’s not in the codes!” Mal said, perplexed.
Brisack shrugged halfheartedly. “No, it’s not. Then again, they were in public.”
Mal shook his head. “Doesn’t matter! There’s nothing revealing about the response, ‘I think we might have met before.’ He didn’t even give a proper response considering he was addressing an officer.”
“Lieutenant Walickiah assumed the response was intended to reveal who he is and the nature of his work there,” Brisack explained flatly.
Mal shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “That can’t be our contact. None of our men would stoop to such base familiarity. Baby tender, indeed! Tell him to look again. He’s a very quiet man. He needs to interrogate all of the soldiers that were injured last season. Take them to the privacy of the north if necessary!”
Brisack took a deep breath, but he couldn’t put off the news any longer. “And therein lies the problem.”
“What problem?” spat Mal.
Brisack hesitated. “Since his initial report, the lieutenant seems to be . . . missing. He’s gone.”
“Gone?”
Brisack nodded miserably. “Just like the new recruit we sent last year who we’ve never heard from again. The garrison received a message today from Shin asking about Walickiah’s background. He was there for less than a week then vanished. Relf came by and asked for his medical records, looking for clues.”
Mal’s mouth hung open in shock. “Resigned?” he finally whispered.
Brisack shrugged again. His own astonishment had worn off a couple of hours ago, replaced by stupefied consternation. “Major Shin found the letter on his desk a couple of mornings ago. Our contacts haven’t heard from the lieutenant either.”
Mal’s eyes grew bigger. “Not even our contacts? No one goes back on the oath! No one!”
Brisack held up his hands in a futile attempt to calm him. “Actually, this would make two. Both in Edge.”
Mal gripped the sides of his chair. “Why? Why Edge?”
“I don’t know,” the doctor whispered, looking down at his hands and massaging them. Strangely, that gave him comfort. “I’m stunned myself. Walickiah was so steady and solid, especially after his fantastic success in eliminating the parents of that captain in Grasses and beating his sister near to death. I really thought that—” He examined his hands.
Mal was quiet for a few moments before he spoke. “So you failed, my good doctor.”
Brisack’s head snapped up. “What?”
“How much is your heart in this study, Brisack?”
The doctor’s mouth gaped. “I really wanted this to succeed! I spent hours each day for weeks with Walickiah, giving him strategies, showing him ways of getting into the inner circle, to get close to Shin, to find out—”
“As I said: you failed.”
Brisack’s shoulders sagged. “I don’t know what went wrong. I told him it would be difficult, only to keep him sharp, but really . . . I just don’t know.” The good doctor rubbed his hands again. While he told the lieutenant to take advantage of any situation, he really had been directing him to take out the mother-in-law. She’d lived a long enough life, her death would’ve been close enough to the family to have made some impact, and the children would have been spared . . .
Brisack stopped massaging his hands.
Was the Quite Man really the baby tender? The children. What in the world was he trying to accomplish with them?
Suddenly, Brisack wanted nothing more than to have five minutes alone with him, which he knew would never happen.
“There’s still the Quiet Man,” he reminded Mal, but wasn’t sure what to do with that. “While two others have vanished, he’s remained loyally at the fort.”
“But what good is he doing us?” Mal snapped.
Brisack shrugged again, the only gesture he seemed to know that night. “Maybe he’s doing more to keep Shin involved than we realize. Maybe we should just let him do his work. I see no reason to do anything more with Edge,” he decided. “We still have so much to analyze—”
The Chairman shook his head. “No. He’s getting too cocky up there. And now these towers? The maps, we could work with. But how will we ever sneak into the villages, undetected, with men watching in towers? I can’t even get a message to the Quiet Man because communication in the north is breaking down again! No,” Mal said with severe resolve, “Shin must be broken. If the Quiet Man is the baby tender, he’s in a perfect position to complete Walickiah’s mission. Wait until he’s watching the children, claim there was a raid—”
“How?” Brisack asked, panic tightening in his chest when Mal mentioned the children. “You just said we can’t get him a message. No, we need to come up with a new strategy for breaking Perrin.”
“All right, Brisack,” Mal said smoothly. “Since you’re so averse to anything involving his children, there’s someone else we can get.” His voice was thick with planning. “Someone else whose death would devastate the great Perrin Shin and bring him to his knees.”
Brisack pointed at him. “I already told you—no. It’s too risky. That would be crossing the line from tragedy to outrage, and I refuse to be found in that pit with you!”
“It’s the only way, Doctor. Nothing else has worked. But this will,” Mal said calmly.
Too calmly for Brisack’s tastes.
“I refuse to be a part of that! No!”
“Fine. I have someone else with a plan that won’t fail.”
Brisack stood up abruptly. “It’s your grave, Nicko!”
“I doubt it,” he smiled tightly as the doctor stormed out of the library.
A moment later Mal said, “Gadiman.”
A door that led to a back hallway opened into the darkened room.
“Did you hear?” said Mal, not bothering to look in the direction of the quiet squeak of hinges.
“Oh, I heard!” said a voice that sounded rather like a weasel that just happened upon a trapped warren of rabbits. “I told you he’d fail!”
“Yes, you did,” Mal intoned, but even Gadiman wasn’t going to annoy him tonight. “Tell your men to get ready. The Guarders are about to strike their most focused blow. Ah, the world will never be the same . . .”
---
Barker woke up and stretched lazily. He looked around at the neighborhood. It wasn’t his. He sniffed the cold fog that rested on Edge that morning. Without another thought he got up and started trotting toward the main road before the sun rose.
“Whoa, look at the size of that dog!”
“I know whose that is—that’s Major Shin’s dog. Sniffer. Or Digger. Drooler . . . something like that.”
Emerging from the fog we
re two soldiers, just coming off duty from patrolling the village. Barker continued to trot, realizing that while they were dressed in blue, they didn’t smell like the Major.
“Should we walk him home?” asked one of the soldiers.
“Might as well. His home is along the way to the fort. But I get the feeling he’s walking us home. Whiner?” he tried, but the dog didn’t look at the soldiers trying to keep up with him.
“Certainly seems to know where he’s going, doesn’t he? The major always lets him run loose?”
The other soldier shrugged. “He has a fence around his garden. Not a very tall one, but certainly not something this dog could jump. Jumper?” he tried again to guess the dog’s name.
Barker paid no attention to the soldiers. He was finding his way home. He turned down one road and cut across to another alley with the soldiers right behind him.
“That’s got to be the most determined and quiet dog I’ve ever seen,” one soldier said. “His name certainly isn’t Barker, then.”
Barker’s black floppy ears twitched slightly as he continued home.
---
Corporal Zenos walked into Edge’s Inn and smiled at the older man standing behind the bar. Since it was the middle of the afternoon, most of the tables in the eating area were emptied, just waiting for a soldier in need of a snack.
“Let me guess, Corporal—pie?” the man asked with a smile.
Zenos chuckled. “I’m that predictable, am I?”
“I value my steady customers, son. I count on you being predictable.”
Zenos grinned. “I’ve got a short race I need to run later today, so I thought I’d get a little something to ensure a win. Is Mrs. Peto in?”
“I am, dear,” called a happy voice from the kitchen behind a partially closed door. She peeked out of the door, her round cheeks smeared with bits of flour as if she had been brushing it off, but only added more instead. “What are you in the mood for today, Corporal?”
Shem pondered that for a moment, waiting for the serving girl to make her way past him. She was deliberately slow about it, as she always was, bumping him in a purposeful sort of way.
It was because she was afflicted with a severe case of cleavage that Zenos kept his eyes on the ceiling as if in concentration.
“How about you tell me what’s available, Mrs. Peto?” he suggested.
The serving girl gave him a saucy look which he almost missed.
Mrs. Peto stepped into the doorway with an eager smile. “Tell me how fresh peach pie sounds?”
“Absolutely perfect!” Shem grinned. “You know, your daughter makes a good pie, but it’s not quite yours yet, Mrs. Peto.”
Hycymum beamed and ducked back into the kitchen.
Zenos leaned against the serving bar and looked around the eating room. At one table along the wall sat a middle-aged couple enjoying a drink and a leisurely afternoon. He smiled genially at them and they smiled back.
Across the room from them, at a table in the corner by the windows, sat a young man around Shem’s age, slowly pushing food around his plate and lost in deep thought.
A moment later Mrs. Peto popped out again with a large piece of peach pie. “I hope you like it, Corporal,” she winked at him.
“It looks perfect, so I’m sure I’ll love it!” he winked back at her.
The serving girl grumbled quietly that there were no winks for her. Shem turned and walked over to the table with the middle-aged couple.
“So, enjoying your stay in Edge?” he asked as he sampled the pie.
“We are, thank you for asking,” said the man. His black hair was streaked with gray, and his narrow dark eyes twinkled cheerfully.
“Anything I can help you find here?” Shem offered.
The woman sitting across from him, with her blonde and gray hair twisted into a loose bun, smiled sweetly. “No, no, we’re fine. We’re spending a few days to get to know the village. That’s my nephew over there. He’s recently lost his parents and is looking for someplace new, without so many difficult memories,” she said quietly. “We came to Edge to see if this might be what he’s looking for.”
Shem nodded slowly. “Maybe I can answer some questions for him. Do you think he’d mind?”
The couple shook their heads. “Go ahead,” the husband said.
Shem walked over to their nephew who was still oblivious to anything but the remains of the stew he swirled around on his plate.
Shem cleared his throat. “May I join you?”
The young man looked up, startled. “Uh, well, I was kind of expecting—”
Not concerned about what he was expecting, Shem sat down and nodded at the plate. “Didn’t enjoy the mutton stew?”
“Oh no, it was quite good.”
Shem nodded and took another bite of pie. “Then you should really try this for dessert.”
“Don’t have much appetite,” the young man sighed.
“Hard to eat when you’re looking for a new home, is it?”
The young man blinked rapidly.
“Your aunt and uncle told me,” Shem explained. “Thought maybe I could help you a bit. Anything I can tell you about Edge?”
“Uhh,” the young man began, but stopped as he saw the serving girl come over to wipe down a nearby table. She intentionally leaned forward on the surface to make the most of her affliction, and watched the two young men talking, oblivious to the crumbs she kept missing.
Under his breath and without moving his lips, Shem muttered, “Don’t look at her, Dormin.”
That snapped the young man’s attention back to the soldier in front of him.
“Fishing’s great!” Shem said loudly with a big grin. “The Edge River is just to the west, and the trout are enormous. But I need to warn you, if you fish too close to the forest, you might find yourself wrestling for your catch with a bear.”
The serving girl rolled her eyes at the conversation, stood back up, and went to the kitchen.
“How’d you know my name?” Dormin whispered.
“I’m your contact,” Shem said in an equally low voice. But his manner was casual, as if enjoying a meaningless chat. “And don’t worry. No one can hear us, not even your ‘aunt’ and ‘uncle.’ The thick curtains here absorb much of our conversation, and the way the sun hits the windows creates a glare, so no one will even see us together. Watch.” He turned to the windows and waved goofily. “Hi!”
But no one passing noticed, because of the glint of sunshine blinding them.
“That’s why I choose this hour at this time of year. We have less than ten minutes before the angle shifts,” he said nonchalantly as he took another bite of pie, “so you can tell me what’s going on. The mustache and beard look good, by the way.”
Dormin nodded slightly, unsure of the situation. “It was Mrs. Yu—”
Shem gave him a severe look.
“I mean, my aunt’s idea. Said I look less like my father this way.”
“Well, she’s one who’d know,” Shem said quietly. “The problem is?”
“It’s my brother,” he whispered.
“Uh-huh, Uh-huh,” Shem interrupted loudly. “Yes, we do have great hunting.”
The serving girl passed again with a disgusted sigh.
“He’s in a uniform,” Dormin said softly as the girl bustled to the kitchen again.
“Nothing wrong with that,” Shem grinned and took another bite.
“He’s making plans.”
“Alone or with someone?” Shem said as if they were only discussing the amount of snow in Edge.
“Not sure. Probably not alone, because he has no patience. Someone else is likely in charge.”
“He has another name?”
“Heth,” Dormin whispered, as if it was profanity.
“What’s his plan?” Shem asked between bites.
“Not sure either, but he wants a mansion. Our old mansion.”
“The Shins,” Shem breathed. For the first time, his face tightened in concern
.
“Yes, the High General—I’m pretty sure,” Dormin said, taking a bite of his cold stew just for show.
“General Shin’s on his way here now, to inspect the new security measures in the village.”
Dormin blinked in surprise. “My brother might be with him!”
“I hope you’re not planning a family reunion,” Shem warned.
“Not at all. I already made my peace with him.”
“Good, because if he is with the general, he’s not here to make peace.”
Dormin sighed. “You have to stop him, if at all possible.”
“I’ll do what I can.” In a louder voice he said, “I hope that gives you some perspective about Edge. And,” he leaned over in a conspiratorial manner, “the serving girl certainly gave you another perspective of Edge.” Shem stood up. “If you need any more questions answered, I’m at the fort. Feel free to come by anytime.”
“Thanks,” Dormin said, surprised that suddenly the conversation was over.
Shem brought the plate over to the serving bar and set down a small slip of silver. He nodded over to the couple at the table. “Hope you enjoy your stay in Edge. If you need help finding a home—”
“We have a home already,” the man said easily. “We’re trying to get one for my wife’s nephew now.”
“I’m sure you’ll succeed,” Corporal Zenos said. To the kitchen he called, “Thanks, Mrs. Peto. Better than Mrs. Shin’s, but don’t tell her I said that!”
And he went on his way.
---
Perrin sat at his desk in the command office reviewing the next week’s duty rotations. When he heard the private in the outer office shout, he smiled.
“Blue banner, sir! Far southern tower! General’s coach has been sighted.”
“Very good,” Shin called out to him. He put aside the rotation schedule and tidied up his desk. Ample warning now. The way it should be.
Another minute later he heard, “Blue Banner up at Edge of Idumea Estates, sir!”
He wished he’d had ten minutes’ warning three and a half years ago when his father showed up in front of Mahrree’s house to meet his future daughter-in-law. Already the tower system was proving its worth.
After a couple of minutes came the call, “Now . . . the village green has spotted his coach! Their banner just went up.”
“Thank you, Private. No further updates are necessary.”
“But it’s working, sir!”
“Yes, that seems to be obvious, doesn’t it?” He smiled patiently as he came out of his office and into the forward command office.
The private flushed a darker, embarrassed brown. “It’s . . . rather fun to watch, sir. Oh look! Another blue banner!”
Perrin chuckled and jogged down the stairs to await the arrival of the coach. He walked leisurely out of the reception area into the compound and stood casually with his arms folded.
A minute later the garrison coach, surrounded by eight guards on horseback, drove noisily into the compound. The coach had barely lurched to a stop when the door flew open and High General Shin hopped down.
“They’re bigger than I thought, Major!” he said excitedly as he bounded over to his son. “Those banners must be at least fifteen feet long each!”
Perrin grinned as he saluted his father. “Closer to twenty, sir. They have to be that long so we can see them from the fort. And with the constant breeze off the mountains, the banners are always unfurled. I knew of your approach ten minutes ago.”
The general belatedly remembered to return the salute. “Excellent work, son. I’m impressed!”
Perrin beamed. “Thank you, sir. And eight guards? That’s new.”
The High General scoffed. “Nicko Mal thinks the world should see I’m fully protected ‘at such a dangerous time as this, and in such a dangerous place as this’. Waste of manpower.” He started for the command tower, grinning. “Now I want to see your map—”
“Uhh,” Perrin said, not following his father but glancing at the coach, “I didn’t realize you were coming alone.”
General Shin stopped suddenly and his smile fell. He immediately spun around and marched back to the coach. Perrin kept his face very still, saving his outburst of laughter for later when he relayed to Mahrree what happened next.
Mrs. Joriana Shin stood at the open door, one eyebrow raised and a hand on her waist. As her husband sheepishly walked over to help her down—the footman stood ready but she ignored him—Joriana said quietly to her husband, “A little over-excited about towers and flags, are we?”
Perrin couldn’t tell what his father responded, but when he turned around he wore an overly-grave expression, one that he reserved only for the rare times he was embarrassed.
Perrin’s mother walked over to her son and embraced him. “Your father’s been eager the entire ride, son,” she whispered into his ear. “Now be a good boy and let him play on one of your towers, all right? He’ll pout all the way home if he doesn’t.”
“Of course, Mother.”
Perrin escorted his mother to his home to visit her grandchildren before he, the High General, and the eight guards went on their tour of the new system.
By the time General Shin climbed down the third tower he had inspected, he was beaming. “Every house in every village will be labeled, the residents’ names recorded, and towers just like this one erected everywhere, Major Shin. I defy the Guarders to find a way to strike us now!”
Several of his guard nodded in agreement, except for two lieutenants who were climbing down the tower. Everyone, it seemed, needed to inspect the view.
“I’m glad to hear it, General,” Major Shin smiled. “There are still some problems we need to consider, such as posting the banners in villages that don’t have a constant breeze, but—”
“But nothing. I want copies of your plans and tower dimensions before we leave for Idumea in four days,” the High General said in a tone as cheerful as he’d ever attempted, and started back to the fort with his guards and son.
“As for the names of each resident, Mal’s already told me he has some reservations about recording more than a family name,” the High General said, “but I’ll work on him. And I also want the procedures for conducting the Races to Edge. That Zenos certainly is fast, isn’t he?”
Perrin chuckled, partially because of his father’s nearly exuberant behavior. “Yes, sir, he is.”
Corporal Zenos caught up to them as they turned onto the main fort road. He was still winded and sweaty, despite the cool temperature, as he saluted the general.
“Sir, I hope the race was satisfactory in demonstrating how we, um, traverse the terrain in order to uh, to uh . . .” He struggled to find enough official-sounding words.
High General Shin actually chuckled as he patted Zenos on the back and put his hand on his shoulder to steer the corporal to walk with them.
Perrin simply shook his head in amazement.
“The race was very entertaining and effective. Yes, Zenos, good run. But I must admit, I think I would’ve enjoyed watching my son race you instead. I heard from my daughter-in-law it was quite an exciting finish last week.”
Perrin winced.
Zenos dared to smile. “It was, sir. Major Shin is very fast.”
“He always was!” the High General bragged to his guard.
They nodded politely to him.
Perrin cringed and blushed.
“No one could beat him,” the general announced, happily squeezing Zeno’s shoulder.
The corporal shrugged a little from the unintended pain of Relf Shin’s good mood.
“Perhaps you can run the race again next year, Corporal, and I can come observe it myself.”
Perrin noticed Shem’s discomfort, and was starting to feel some himself. “Father, I really don’t think that—”
The High General held up a hand to stop his son. “We’ll discuss next year’s race next year. Now, Major, I have a question about communication between the to
wers—”
He released Corporal Zenos to gesture to a distant point, and Perrin heard the corporal exhale quietly in relief.
---
Shem’s relief didn’t last. Before he could drift away from the High General and his accompaniment to massage his shoulder, a lieutenant caught his arm.
“Walk with us, Corporal. The general said your name is Zenos?”
“Uh, yes sir.”
“I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Lieutenant Xat.”
“Uh, no sir. Since you’re new, I’m fairly certain we haven’t met before. Corporal Shem Zenos.”
Lieutenant Xat glanced over to another lieutenant who also now walked with them. The six other guards surrounded the High General, but the two lieutenants and the corporal remained a few steps behind.
“So,” Xat said, “you’ve gained a bit of a reputation for yourself. First to notice the Guarder raid here? Severely injured? One might wonder why you chose to serve so far away in Edge, considering the dangers. Perhaps it’s that you simply find the north appealing?”
Shem was so confused by the odd question that for a few moments he didn’t know what to answer. Eventually he blinked and smiled uncomfortably at the two young officers.
To his surprise, they smiled back.
After another awkward pause, Shem eventually said, “I suppose so. I mean, there’s more snow in the north, but Weeding Season isn’t as oppressive as it is in the south. The air isn’t as heavy. Drier. Better.”
The lieutenants smiled at each other and seemed to relax.
“Well, we find the north appealing as well,” said Xat. “People talk about how disfigured and fearsome the mountains look, but when you see them up close, you have to be impressed by their strength and power. Perhaps that’s what makes people in the world nervous—the sheer might of the north?”
Zenos shrugged. “I always thought the mountains were rather pretty. Especially when the sun is setting and it casts shadows on the rocky tops. Really quite something to see. Of course,” he rambled on, “the sun rise is also good. On the mountains. Shadows, again. Partly cloudy days are good, too. More shadows.” He bit his lip to make it stop moving.
Xat put a hand on Zenos’s sore shoulder and chuckled at his nervousness. “Glad to find someone who shares a common love. Not many of us in the world, are there? We need to stick together, Corporal.”
“Yes, yes we do,” Shem smiled. He nodded to the other lieutenant who hadn’t spoken. “I didn’t catch your name, sir.”
“Heth,” he said shortly, as if he weren’t allowed to say much.
Zenos nodded slowly. “Well, it’s been good to meet you, sirs. I need to get back to my duties. I’m on an evening patrol shift. Got to get my horse ready, my pack, my sword . . . oh, I already have my sword. One less thing to worry about!” he guffawed. “Good evening to you both.”
The lieutenants watched as the corporal jogged off toward the stables.
“He missed the first code, but responded correctly to the second about finding the north appealing,” Lieutenant Xat observed.
“And for a ‘quiet man,’” Heth scoffed to his companion, “he certainly talks a lot.”
---
Shem jogged over to the stables clenching and unclenching his fist, his Shin-pinched shoulder forgotten. They would remember him as a nervous, babbling idiot. Which, he admitted to himself, he pretty much was right now.
He hadn’t expected this so soon. Walickiah had been whisked away only last week, and now there were two to replace him.
High General Shin was in trouble.
Actually, everyone at the fort was in trouble.
And Shem was feeling just a bit overwhelmed.
Chapter 20 ~ “Know this, Zenos, that I know.”