The Forest at the Edge of the World (Book One, Forest at the Edge series)

by Trish Mercer

Chapter 12 ~ "We've done this kind of backward, haven't we?"

  Mahrree thought she'd never fall asleep that night. She didn't feel the bed under her, the small one she'd have to replace. The elevated wooden frame it sat on, so that she could store lessons in crates underneath, would also need to be lengthened to accommodate Perrin's size. But she couldn't dwell on that for too long, because so many things raced through her mind as they had nonstop for the past three hours since Perrin left.

  Since her future husband left.

  Every time she had that thought, she grabbed her pillow and screamed into it. If anyone had been passing by and heard her, they would have been alarmed, and then perplexed to hear her laughing right after. Mahrree didn't know how to appropriately express her excitement, but she decided it didn't matter, as long as she was able to compose herself by morning before she faced her students, especially her teenage girls. Although they never said a word, they'd regarded her with pity for weeks.

  She couldn't reveal her news, though. She and Perrin had agreed to keep their engagement to themselves, just for now. Neither of them was quite ready to deal with the village's reactions, which undoubtedly would result in a bit of teasing with some leading comments. And Edgers' comments could also be a bit unrefined at times.

  One thing that kept Mahrree's mind occupied that sleepless night was how to expand the house. She had a 'singles' house which she adored. When Mahrree was eight she watched her father and other villagers build it years ago for an elderly widow. She was impressed that even with his slight build and small frame Cephas could move the large rocks and position them in just the right way to make the smoothest interior walls. She often looked up from her reading at the table at the rocks she knew her father had carefully placed. Her bookshelves fit perfectly against his structure. As Mahrree now lay in bed and looked up at the pitched eaves of the roof, she smiled as she remembered helping her father carry smaller pieces of wood up for the cozy bedroom.

  The villagers would come again to add on another room since she was adding a new family member, because cozy also meant cramped. Perhaps she would add a study for Perrin. Her land was small, but it might as well all be taken up by house. If she ever wanted a garden she could rent out space in the farms that surrounded the village as a buffer from the forest. She wouldn't need to worry about Guarders because she would be protected by her husband.

  Her husband!

  She grabbed her pillow and screamed again into it with delight.

  Only then did she realize she hadn't completed reading The Writings.

  Dear Creator, she thought. I am so sorry! I fully intended to-

  A great warmth of comfort enveloped her with the message,

  You can finish tomorrow, then begin again to take notes on what your children should know.

  The thought struck her so unexpectedly that she nearly fell of the bed. Which children? Her school children or . . . ?

  The idea was too wonderful. She'd stopped thinking years ago that she would ever have her own children, and now the idea energized her so much she could barely stay in bed. She had to finish reading The Writings in the small hours of the morning.

  But before she could get up, the lateness of the hour and the exhilaration of the evening abruptly collided in her brain, and soon she fell into a shockingly restful sleep.

  Then Mahrree found herself sitting before a large wooden home, made of pine planking that had weathered into a soft gray. The entire area was ringed by tall mountains she didn't recognize, and around her were a dozen or more children running and laughing. She was sitting in dry dirt, and felt the heat of the sun beating gently down upon her. She looked around, perplexed and intrigued.

  She was in a very large garden, and she was pulling weeds. Willingly.

  And she was inexplicably happy.

  She woke up from the dream laughing.

  ---

  In the middle of the night, in a large house in Grasses, a father woke up in bed to find a figure standing over him, holding a jagged blade. Before he could cry out, the blade plunged into his heart.

  His wife, in bed next to him, didn't hear it. She was already dead.

  The man holding the jagged knife, dressed in black and with his face darkened with soot, nodded to his companion that the room was secured. Together they crept down a hallway and flung open the door. They sheathed their knives and pulled out thick wooden clubs.

  Then they walked up to the bed where the young woman slept.

  ---

  In the early morning Mahrree rushed to her table to finish reading before school began. She quickly thumbed to the last four pages, but instead The Writings fell open to the very last page, and she found herself staring at the final words of the Creator, revealed to Guide Pax:

  Before the Last Day even the aged of my people will strike terror in the deadened hearts of the fiercest soldiers.

  On the Last Day those who have no power shall discover the greatest power is all around them.

  On the Last Day those who stayed true to the Plan will be delivered as the destroyer comes.

  I have created this Test, I have given this Plan, and I will reward my faithful children.

  Mahrree stared at the last passage for several moments, unable to move. The words, which she'd read dozens of times before, now struck her with such unexpected force that she wondered why she never felt the power of them before. She didn't just read them, she felt the reality of them-as if they were said directly to her-and she thought she could actually see that day right before her, if only she knew how to focus her eyes properly.

  She was glad that she couldn't.

  It was almost a full minute before she could finally do something, and it was just to say, "Hmm."

  Eventually she closed The Writings and smirked guiltily. How fortunate she didn't punctuate last night's glorious evening with such a dreary exclamation mark. She sighed, shook off the ominous feeling, smiled, and opened the book again to the beginning.

  We are all family.

  Her new one would be starting soon.

  She shrieked again for joy.

  ---

  That morning in Grasses, the large fort was in complete upheaval. Hundreds of soldiers ran throughout the village looking for more victims, law enforcers brought reports to the colonel that at least half a dozen homes had been hit, and the fort's surgeon worked tirelessly to save the life of a young woman who had been beaten by what appeared to be wooden clubs.

  Her intended, the lieutenant of the fort, sat in an adjacent room, weeping quietly.

  The captain of the fort joined him, sent by the colonel, but he could only sit and stare in disbelief. Both of his parents were dead, and now his younger sister was lying near death. Later he collapsed, overwhelmed by grief.

  The colonel frantically got off brief messages to every fort in the world and to the garrison in Idumea, with a promise of more details to follow. But for now, everyone in the world had to know as quickly as possible.

  The Guarders were officially back, and more violent than ever.

  ---

  It was the last day of school, and Mahrree found it even harder than her students to concentrate as they pored over their final writings to present to their parents that afternoon. The day moved excruciatingly slowly. She'd had only a few hours of sleep and couldn't think of anything else but Perrin. He was to return that evening to join her for dinner, and she worried over what to prepare for their first meal together, even though at this time of year it was rarely anything different than bread, cheese, and early greens.

  The only sound in the classroom was the scritching of quills on parchment as her eight students wrote. If she put her quill to any parchment, she feared she would juvenilely practice writing "Mrs. Mahrree Shin." So instead she just stared at the door and daydreamed about a tall, muscular, and not-unpleasant-looking captain.

  Until he stood right there, having abruptly opened the door.

  Mahrree blinked to make sure she a
ctually saw him.

  Captain Shin stared back. "Miss Peto, five minutes please?"

  Her heart sank. He wasn't the laughing, affectionate man that left her house last night-he was far too serious and intense. Maybe he'd had a change of heart and was there to tell her it was all just a big mistake.

  "Good afternoon, Captain Shin!" eight girls chorused together in a sing-song voice.

  Captain Shin looked over to the girls seated behind their desks, noticing them for the first time. "Good afternoon, girls. Ladies. Young ladies." His eyebrows furrowed over figuring out which label was appropriate.

  Mahrree blushed as the girls erupted into giggles.

  Captain Shin's severe demeanor softened a little with a faint smile in their direction. Then he turned back to Mahrree, again completely somber. "Miss Mahrree? Now?"

  Mahrree nodded and stood up, feeling weak and confused. If he was going to call it off, why would he do it right now? She followed him outside the door, her stomach twisting in dread. He didn't stop in the grassy area in front of the small school building, but continued over to a storage shed partially secluded by blossoming apple trees. He opened the door to the shed and, while looking around, cocked his head toward the door indicating that she should go in.

  Completely baffled at his behavior, she complied. He didn't shut the door-there wouldn't have been enough room for him among the rakes and buckets if he did-but looked around the grounds once more before finally turning to her.

  She wrung her hands in worry.

  "Ah, Mahrree!" he breathed, releasing all tension from his face. He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into him.

  "Wait a minute," she giggled in relief. "You just pulled me away from my class for a hug?"

  "And this, too." He kissed her so ardently that she would have forgiven him of anything.

  "Mmm, good thing today is the last day of school." She chuckled as he finally released her. "Can't have you coming by and doing this every day. People will start to talk."

  He chuckled too, but rather mirthlessly, and suddenly turned grim. "And I came to give you this as well." He pulled something long from the inside of his uniform jacket. In the dim light of the shed she wasn't sure what it was until he put it into her hands.

  "It's a rod of iron," she said tonelessly. "Is this some kind of army thing? I know occasionally men give their intendeds jewelry, but-"

  "Mahrree, just minutes ago a messenger arrived from Grasses. The Guarders have attacked."

  Mahrree bit her lower lip.

  He put his arms around her again, and she sank into him. "Not only that, but they attacked the intended of the lieutenant there. He was to marry the sister of the captain."

  "Oh Perrin . . ."

  "They killed the captain's parents and brutally beat the young woman," he said quietly. "Grasses' commanding officer wrote that the surgeons aren't sure if she'll survive."

  Mahrree clutched the iron rod and tears squeezed out of her eyes. What had she just agreed to last night? Becoming the next victim?

  "I want you to hold on to this rod and keep it next to your bed," he whispered softly, holding her tighter. "They attacked at night, which is their typical pattern. I really don't think anything will happen here, but I'll sleep better at night knowing you have some sort of defense."

  "They're really real, aren't they?" she whispered into his chest, all doubt fleeing. She knew she'd be lighting extra candles and keeping them in a few windows all night long. Suddenly she understood why the simple-minded and gullible of Edge did that: not to ward away Guarders, but to make it harder for them to see what was lurking around outside in the dark. The reflections of the light on the wavy windows obscured everything on the other side.

  She wondered if she had enough candles.

  "Yes, they are real," Perrin said in a low, dreadful tone. "And very effective. They hit at least six houses last night. Probably more. Grasses is large, and they were still surveying the area when they sent out the message. The captain's family lived in the middle of the village, not on the outskirts. The Guarders had to venture quite a ways to get there, and it seems they chose that house deliberately. None of the Guarders was captured."

  Perrin squeezed her tighter. It was getting hard to breathe, but she didn't mind.

  Abruptly he stepped back. "I need to get to the fort. Lots to do right now. I'm running extra drills in sword work this afternoon. Suddenly all of the soldiers are taking it much more seriously." He smiled, but it wasn't genuine. "We really have nothing to worry about. Guarders aren't anywhere near Edge, and my sergeant major is arranging for patrols in the village. The first begin tonight, and your road is on it. You'll be fine, Mahrree."

  She didn't think so. She looked into his face, pleading for him to take her with him to the fort, but not daring to say the words.

  "My five minutes are up, and your students will be talking. I'll see you in just a few hours for dinner, then I'll be there all evening. We should take measurements of your windows and doors," he decided. "I'll have the fort blacksmith create some reinforcements to make entry more difficult."

  He paused.

  "Maybe we should move up the wedding. We really don't need three moons, do we?"

  Mahrree felt a flush of panic. Maybe he didn't need that much time to prepare, but she certainly did. "We shouldn't move it up just because of this. Besides, your parents can't come any earlier, can they?"

  He sighed. "My father's schedule is usually set at least half a year in advance. There's no way he could change it. Unless we went to Idumea-No!" he declared immediately. "Absolutely not. We'll just keep to what we decided last night. You'll be fine."

  He kissed her again and hastily darted out of the shed, leaving her to hold the rod.

  Mahrree stared at the crude weapon, and her belly aching with worry. She couldn't exactly walk into the classroom holding the iron. She tried slipping it into her sleeve, but it was too long and extended beyond her elbow. She slipped the rod down into her skirt and secured it in the ties for her stockings. If she sat down just right, she wouldn't stab herself. She giggled uncomfortably at the position of the rod, then giggled again at the look on Perrin's face when he first kissed her. Then she giggled again out of sheer nervousness.

  She couldn't remember ever giggling before she met Captain Perrin Shin.

  Mahrree stepped out of the shed, knowing she had to get back to her class before they started asking too many questions. But she couldn't push away the heavy thoughts about the fort at Grasses, or the realization that this time it was real. She could see in Perrin's eyes that even he was surprised. The attack wasn't controlled by kings as a convenient show of force, but was instead something much darker and threatening. It followed her like a black cloud as she walked gingerly back to her class, hoping the rod wouldn't slip.

  When Mahrree opened the door she saw eight eager faces.

  "Well?" Teeria said.

  Mahrree couldn't even muster a smile. "The answer to your question a few weeks ago: Yes, Captain Shin would kill a Guarder to protect the village. Protecting all of us is his duty."

  "Nothing else, Miss Mahrree?"

  "You have essays to write, girls."

  ---

  When evening finally arrived, Perrin stood at the door and knocked formally with his foot, since his arms were full of books.

  Mahrree, who'd been jittery as she walked through the market that afternoon, even though she knew Guarders attacked only at night, was anxious to see him. But she was slightly disappointed he was out of uniform again. He seemed a little more vulnerable without his sword. But at his trousers' waistband she saw what looked like the handle of a knife sticking out above his hip.

  She smiled and announced loudly, in case any neighbors were in earshot, "Ah, Captain Shin! Have you finished these books already? My, my. Do come in to get some more."

  Perrin rolled his eyes at her terrible acting and walked in. He dropped the books on top of the table and Mahrree gas
ped.

  "What's wrong?"

  "The . . ." Mahrree began to laugh and covered her mouth. "The . . . bread! You dropped the books on the bread. You flattened it again!"

  Perrin looked down and saw that what he thought was bundled cloth actually contained a fresh loaf of bread from the bakers. The top was squeezing out under the pressure of the books and split open like a wound.

  "Uh," he lifted up the books and looked around for another place to put them. Since most of the surface of the table was covered in student writings, he settled for a chair.

  Mahrree removed the cloth from the squashed bread. "Well, you said you liked flattened bread, remember?" She smiled as she held up the misshapen loaf. "Now it's time to see how honest you are."

  "I promise to be as honest as I can be," he said solemnly. Then he added, "From now on." He kissed her and tore off a large piece of bread. "Now I can get more into my mouth at one time," and he shoved it all in his mouth.

  "Oh," Mahrree snickered. "That behavior isn't acceptable, even in Edge! It's fortunate for you that I didn't share my bread with you that night before the fifth debate. I would never let you back into my house again. This day is filling up with all kinds of surprises about what it will mean to be your wife."

  "I'm sure you'll surprise me with your fair share as well," Perrin garbled with a full mouth. "Any blob for dinner?"

  After dinner-a safe assortment of cheeses, fresh greens, dried beef, and flattened bread-they stepped out on to the back porch. Mahrree shut her back door, and Perrin's hand rose and brushed against hers.

  Oh dear, Mahrree thought. She forgot about that. People who are intended tend to hold hands.

  In public.

  To show they are . . .

  She really wasn't quite sure why, but he likely expected her to grasp his hand, which she did.

  "Uh," he said, staring at their hands together. "No."

  Mahrree blushed in embarrassment as he gently pulled his rough hand away. It continued to rise to point to the metal locking latch on her door. "I was trying to point to that. Are you going to lock it?"

  Mahrree's embarrassment vanished and she chuckled at the old lock. "Are you serious?"

  "Do you really not remember what just happened last night? In Grasses?"

  "No, I remember," she said, much more subdued. "Quite vividly. Tomorrow you tell the rest of the village?"

  "When the rest of the details come in, yes. So lock your door, Mahrree."

  She wondered if he practiced that authoritative tone, or if he just naturally sounded commanding by lowering his already deep voice. However he did it, he was chillingly effective.

  Mahrree opened the door again, removed the iron key hanging on an old nail by the door, and shut the door again.

  Perrin was rubbing his forehead earnestly when she looked up at him. "Do not tell me you keep the key to your door on a nail by the door!"

  Mahrree fumbled with the lock, since she'd worked it only a handful of times. "Then I also won't tell you that this key is identical to everyone else's in this half of Edge, since the same blacksmith made all of our locks years ago and knew only one way to do so."

  Perrin groaned.

  Before Mahrree could pocket the key, he caught her hand. "Now, unlock the door."

  "But I just-"

  "Humor me," he said in the official monotone he used during the debates. "Unlock the door."

  Mahrree exhaled in exasperation and unlocked it. "See? I do know how to work it-"

  "Now," he ordered in full commander style, "walk into your house, up to the front door, and lock that door."

  Mahrree's mouth dropped open. If he dared to interrupt her one more time . . . "What makes you think that door isn't-"

  "I noticed it when I came in tonight. Besides, if you don't lock your back door, then you likely don't lock the front, either. Go. Lock it."

  He has a point, Mahrree thought grudgingly as she stepped back into the house. She decided she couldn't be angry about his cutting her off, because, well, her front door wasn't locked.

  She quickly made her way to it, fought the rusted lock for a moment to get it to twist, then hurried to the back door.

  Guarders are back. Edge isn't the same. The world is changing, today.

  She closed the back door behind her and dutifully locked it as Perrin watched.

  "Remind me to oil your front lock when we get back," he said.

  "How did you know-"

  "I could hear your grunting to turn it all the way out here." His commanding voice had faded away, replaced by a decidedly amused tone.

  Mahrree cringed as they started out the back gate.

  "Also understand," he continued, much more warmly, "that I'm not really the type to hold a woman's hand."

  "Of course," Mahrree said, slightly relieved that she didn't have to engage in that juvenile behavior, but also mysteriously disappointed.

  "It's because I'm a soldier," he told her. "I need to keep my sword hand free."

  "But you're not wearing your sword," she pointed out.

  "Then it's my knife hand."

  "I see," she said. "So is your left hand ever free?"

  "Sorry," he said, and seemed like he meant it. "But that's my two hand."

  "Your what?"

  "You really don't know anything about soldiers, do you?" He smiled.

  "And who would have taught me?"

  He chuckled. "First lesson, right now." He stopped in the alley and held up his right hand. "Sword hand. If no sword, then knife hand." Faster than she could follow the movement, his hand slipped under his jacket and shirt and came back out with a knife that had been tucked into his waistband on his hip.

  She'd heard of long knives. But this massive blade had ambitions to be a short sword, and she marveled that he was able to sit down without slicing any important anatomy.

  "First thrust, with the blade."

  He lunged at an imaginary threat, and Mahrree instinctively leaned back. He relaxed his stance.

  "Most people think that's where it's all at-in the blade. That kind of thinking works for you. They're watching the blade, not the two hand."

  He held up his left hand and formed a fist. She'd seen him do that before, during a debate.

  "First thrust, then comes the second hand with its accompanying hit. One, two." He lunged again with the knife, then followed up with punch at his invisible enemy.

  Mahrree winced.

  He smiled at her proudly and held up his hands. "I need them both. Sorry, but I am here to defend Edge first, and be your intended second. That's just the way it is. I know it's not ideal, but can you live with that?"

  Knowing that she likely didn't fully comprehend what that meant, she shrugged back. "Yes, but you know we do have law enforcement too," she reminded him. "They're supposed to defend Edge. You're supposed to defend the border to Edge."

  He scoffed at that. "They bring drunks home, break up fights between cats, and occasionally catch a thief. If your enforcers are anything like those I've seen elsewhere in the world, half of them don't dare to use the wooden club they carry, while the other half look for any excuse to wallop something. I, however," he said with a return to the official voice, "will truly protect Edge. All of it, and from threats bigger than mouthy teenagers."

  Mahrree couldn't help but grin. He really meant it. Someone more cynical-rather like her just a few weeks ago-would have thought he was too well indoctrinated in Command School, but he truly believed it. He would protect Edge.

  His eyebrows furrowed. "Why are you smiling like that?"

  She wasn't sure what response he'd expected from his little speech, but smiling obviously wasn't it. "I'm just glad I have you by my side tonight."

  He squinted suspiciously at her, but she squeezed his ample arm. "Now, we were planning to go somewhere, remember? You're going to show me just how brave you are, Captain Shin. Right?"

  His squint disappeared as he winked at her. He replaced his knife in his waistb
and and they left the alley for the main road.

  They headed east, receiving stares and a few waves from several people sitting on their front porches to enjoy another warm Planting Season evening. It wasn't going quite as they'd planned. They had hoped everyone would be at the amphitheater. But tonight's entertainment must not have been as amusing as Mahrree and Perrin's awkwardness in trying to walk together without looking like they were walking together.

  They felt a bit deceitful not telling anyone about their engagement. But now with the knowledge that the Guarders had attacked, it seemed necessary to leak the news ahead of Captain Shin's announcement to Edge tomorrow evening about the raid in Grasses, just so that the neighbors could help keep a careful eye on Mahrree's house.

  Mahrree noticed that Perrin kept a hand close by his side where the long knife was secreted. He not only looked around at the neighbors, he was looking in their bushes as they walked.

  There was one simple way to let the entire world know about their intentions without Perrin or Mahrree having to say anything to anyone.

  Mahrree took a bracing breath as she led Perrin up the gravel path along a garden that was perfectly symmetrical in its pattern of flowers, color, and rock. She raised her hand to knock on the elaborately painted door. The lavender of it matched the lavender flowers growing in the lavender stained pots on either side.

  She turned to Perrin with her hand still in the air. "Are you ready-truly ready-for this?"

  "No, truly not," he admitted. "But I wasn't entirely ready for last night, either, and the results were satisfactory." He squeezed her other hand in encouragement, but quickly released it and looked around for any threats. Or maybe witnesses.

  Mahrree knocked loudly on the door and held her breath.

  The door swept open a moment later and Hycymum Peto stood there with a look of astonishment on her face. She glanced at her daughter's face, then Perrin's, and squealed so loudly that she made the captain jump. "Oh! Happy day! It is, is it not, a VERY HAPPY DAY?!"

  "Yes, Mother, it is," Mahrree said hurriedly and pushed Hycymum with gentle force into the house. With her free hand she grabbed Perrin's arm and dragged him in. "Shut the door before the Arkys come running from next door," she commanded, and he obeyed.

  Mahrree had once watched a fat cat scrabble unsuccessfully to climb a massive boulder, much to her amusement. She was wise enough, however, not to laugh as her short round mother tried to embrace Perrin the boulder. He remained stiff, unrelenting, and-smartly-silent as his future mother-in-law affectionately mauled him in her joy. Only once did he glance at Mahrree with a long-suffering look that said, Yes, I still want to marry you.

  It took nearly an hour to calm Hycymum down, then another half hour to convince her that a small private ceremony was all they wanted. They readily agreed, however, to let her organize the celebration meal after. Hycymum was satisfied only when Mahrree also agreed to let her decorate the addition to their home.

  But Mahrree stopped short of letting her embellish the fort, for which Perrin gave her a most grateful look.

  For most of the evening he just sat silently on the lace covered sofa with a pained smile on his face, watching the two women bicker and compromise.

  As he walked her home that evening in the growing dark he had only one comment. "You take after your father, don't you? I'll have to thank him for that when I get to the other side."

  "I suppose I should have warned you more about her." Mahrree bit her lip. "I guess I didn't tell you enough last night."

  He nodded. "There are probably a few things about me you should know, too."

  "Such as, what your parents are like?"

  "Oh, you won't have to worry about them-they're great."

  "Hmm," she said, unconvinced. Her pace slowed a little. "Your father is the High General. So was your grandfather."

  His pace slowed even more. "Yes. Is that a problem?"

  "I don't know. Is it?"

  He stopped completely and looked around at the dark neighborhood.

  Mahrree watched him anxiously. Despite the shadows she could see concern in his face.

  "We've done this kind of backward, haven't we?" he said. "We probably should have discussed a few more things before we, um . . ."

  Mahrree nodded. "Well, I've never become engaged before. I think we did that part right. It's the 'getting to know you' part we kind of skipped."

  He nodded back, took her arm, and started walking back to her house. "Uh, Mahrree, considering everything, I'd understand if you now think that maybe you don't . . . it's not too late to change your mind, about . . ."

  "You're right," she cut him off. She didn't want him to say it. "It's not too late for us to start getting to know each other."

  Then she was struck with a terrible thought.

  "Unless you, uh . . ."

  Perrin chuckled quietly. "No. I can't understand why, but I've never felt more sure of a decision than this. I don't think anyone else could stand being my wife. Just remember to lock the doors."

  Mahrree sighed and giggled. She realized giggling was now just a part of her life. "I'll try, and I feel the same way too. You may be the only man in the world who can tolerate me. You dealt with my mother quite well."

  "In my negotiations class we learned when it's time to step away from the conversation. Silence seemed to be the best tactic."

  She laughed. "Just remember that."

  "I have a plan," he announced cheerfully. "Tomorrow night, when I come back from the fort, we'll resolve this. Make a list of questions. I'll make one too. Everything we need to know. Then we can start negotiations."

  "Yes, sir!"

  "Oh, I like the sound of that," he said as they continued to walk to her home.

  "Oh, and I didn't," she laughed. "That's the last time you'll hear me call you 'sir'."

  "Fair enough. I don't think I could order you around. You wouldn't obey anyway, would you?"

  "Only if you're right. If you aren't right, well then, we go to negotiations."

  "I should probably tell you I received my lowest marks in that class. Got the highest marks in command, tactics, training-but negotiations? A little worse than Officers' Charm School, as you called it. Let's just say I do better with a sword in hand."

  "If you're as stubborn as I am, then tomorrow night you should maybe leave that sword at the fort again."