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

by Trish Mercer

The surgeon jogged over to the knot of soldiers at the edge of the forest. "Well, what kind of trouble have we got ourselves into now?" He was already opening his travel pack in eagerness to initiate it.

  None of the men had seen the surly doctor looking happy about anything before. Then again, besides the two injured soldiers the first night of the raid, nothing beyond a few cuts had yet occurred at the fort, and a man with more than thirty years of army service needed to be useful. The surgeon's eyes glowed in anticipation as he yanked off the sleeve of the wounded corporal.

  "Seems it's just a nick in the arm, Surgeon," said the master sergeant. "From that last Guarder they've tied up."

  "I'll be the judge of that." The gray-haired man sighed in disappointment as he examined the gash. "Not very deep . . . suppose I don't need to stitch it, then."

  The corporal closed his eyes in relief that his head wasn't about to meet a wooden plank to render him unconscious for the procedure.

  "Still," the surgeon cocked his head, "it could stand a thorough cleaning. Decades ago Guarders attempted to poison the knife blades." A grim smile crept across his face. "We don't want infection setting in now, do we?"

  The corporal looked at the master sergeant in pleading, but he could only shrug in apology.

  "This will do the trick," the surgeon announced as he opened a bottle from his pack containing clear liquid.

  The corporal's shoulders sagged as he saw it was only water.

  But it wasn't.

  "Yee-OW! What is THAT?" the corporal cried as he yanked his arm away.

  "My own brew," the surgeon's grim smile developed a baleful quality as he gripped the young man's wrist again. "Burns away any infection. You'll be arm wrestling again in no time."

  "Gonna burn off my whole arm!"

  "Nonsense. Besides, this wrap I'm applying will make sure your arm doesn't fall off."

  "That could happen?"

  "Strange things do," the surgeon said without a hint of humor.

  The master sergeant shook his head in assurance at the corporal, but the soldier didn't know who to believe.

  "There," the surgeon said as he tied the wrap. "You'll be good as new in a few days." He sounded disappointed, but turned to the master sergeant. "A word?"

  The master sergeant nodded and the two men walked a little distance into the vacant field.

  "I'm also here to inform you, sergeant, that you are now in command of the fort." The surgeon was never one to beat around a bush. He'd plow right over it.

  "What?!"

  "The captain and the lieutenant are still in the forest, correct?"

  "Yes, but Wiles-"

  "-who is third in command has been relieved of duty."

  "Why did you do that?"

  "I didn't do it," the surgeon grumbled. "He did it to himself. Something's snapped in Wiles's mind, and he's completely useless. I suspect he's traumatized, but there hasn't been a case of real trauma since the Great War. Maybe he's unstable, I don't know. He's doing nothing right now. As fourth in command, you are now point commander here, and at the fort. Should Shin and Karna not return . . ."

  He cleared his throat and paused.

  "The High General will have our uniforms, then our heads," he declared plainly. "Maybe Shin's unstable too. Why else would he take such a risk? Sergeant, we both know this is disastrous. You and I need to maintain a semblance of calm and command while our two officers find new ways to die and the sergeant major stares at the walls."

  The master sergeant swallowed. "But . . . I retire from the army in just two more moons," he said as if it mattered.

  "Well then," the surgeon slapped him on the back, "you're going out as a commander. Congratulations."

  ---

  Wiles rocked himself on the chair like a terrified child, trying to think.

  The fort had only a handful of new recruits left in it, tasked to run food, medical supplies, and rope to the rest of the soldiers waiting along the trees for more Guarders. Even the surgeon walked slowly up and down the edge of the forest waiting to be needed, or just wanting to see some action.

  Wiles hadn't ordered any of that; the master sergeant now standing in charge at the northeast gates likely had. He'd even started lessons in hog tying, or calf roping, or whatever it was they did to immobilize the Guarders that they hoped to catch next.

  All Wiles could do was sit behind the big command desk in the office and slowly sway. None of this was right.

  That was what occupied Wiles's mind-how completely contrary to any protocol, rule, or past action all of this was. There were supposed to be stages and order, but instead there was chaos and complete loss of containment.

  "Containment," Wiles whispered again, closing his eyes in dread. For two days he hadn't eaten or slept, too obsessed with the word. "When he finds out we lost containment-"

  He could barely bring himself to admit his fear, but he had to. His training demanded it. The oaths demanded it.

  There was only one solution, for him and for the captured Guarders.

  That was the other problem. Guarders were never captured alive. Until now. And there was only one way for a captured Guarder to behave.

  Wiles added a quiet moan to his swaying as the sun slowly set in the west.

  ---

  The night had been unbearably long for Mahrree. As exhausted from worry and illness as she was, she couldn't rest. Then the next day was as insufferable as the previous two. She couldn't eat, she couldn't sleep, she couldn't think of anything else but Perrin.

  Mahrree had to face the truth. Being married to an officer was sickening.

  ---

  "And I used to think the miles they had us run each week for training was useless," Karna whispered to Shin as they hiked over yet another wooded rise.

  The sun was high again in the blue sky, but it didn't help with spotting anything in the dense trees.

  "Been running and walking so much the past few days, I think I'm going to be sick when all of this is over. I mean, really, when was I ever going to need to be in such good condition when, as an officer, I would spend all my time on a horse?"

  Shin chuckled. "And who told you that you would be spending all your time on horseback?"

  "Hmm, a fat, balding general named Cush. I believe you know him."

  Perrin smiled at Karna's contempt. The lack of sleep and food was making the lieutenant bolder. Maybe the entire army would find itself braver if it took to the forests.

  "Known Cush since I was a child," Perrin said as he scanned the bushy distance for their quarry. "Cush petitioned my father heavily for the position of his advisor. I think it was so that he could spend his time behind a desk. That's where he's the most comfortable."

  Perrin nudged Karna and pointed into the distance. The forest dipped from their position on a hillside, allowing them a clear view of the tree-covered slope rising on the other side of the small canyon at the base of the mountains. They saw a slight movement several hundred paces in the distance.

  "And Cush sitting behind a desk makes all the horses at the garrison comfortable as well," Karna said, pointing to where a tree shimmied ever so gently. It may have only been a bear scratching an itchy backside-they'd already seen two-but the officers decided to believe it was something more significant.

  Perrin nodded. "That Guarder can't go too much further. The forest narrows just before Moorland there. See that rock outcropping? Very few trees-he'd expose himself too much. I'm guessing he'll backtrack again, looking for anyone else. I wonder if he realizes he's going in large circles."

  "I'm glad he is. I almost used to this terrain now. I'm sure we've seen that tree before."

  "That's because it's a forest, Brillen. There's only about a million more trees just like it!"

  Karna smirked and was about to respond when they both heard a shout. They looked into the distance toward the south where the woods ended.

  More shouts came from the tree line, and a slight movement of tree branches suggested some
one else was running into the forest. Either that, or that the winds were picking up again.

  Shin and Karna looked in the direction of the man they had been following for two days, but saw nothing. Perrin groaned in frustration and signaled to Karna to follow him. They darted through the trees down the hillside and toward the edge of the forest to the shouting.

  In a small clearing just a few paces from the edge of the woods stood a Guarder. His arm was wrapped around a terrified private, and his other hand held his jagged dagger against the young man's throat. Three soldiers were facing him, their swords drawn, when the captain and the lieutenant appeared behind them.

  "I said don't move!" the Guarder shouted, twisting himself and his hostage to face the filthy captain and lieutenant. "Guarantee me safe passage, and the soldier goes free."

  Captain Shin held up his hands calmly, but the Guarder shifted in agitation, causing the private to whimper.

  Karna drew his sword but Perrin kept his hands up.

  A few more soldiers charged into the clearing and stopped abruptly when they saw the situation.

  "All right," the captain said. "You may go free after you answer a few questions."

  "No questions!" the Guarder in dark dirt brown clothing with a darkened face cried. Frantic, he shifted his grip, and the soldier tried to pull his arm away from his chest. But the Guarder held the knife closer to his throat. "Nothing! I'm leaving now, and I'm taking him with me! I refuse to be captured!"

  Shin took a cautious step toward the man and put his hands on his waist. "And how far do you intend to take him?" he said levelly. "How am I supposed to get him back?"

  "That's not my problem!" the Guarder shouted at him.

  "Yes it is," Shin said coolly. "Because I have eight soldiers with swords pointed at you. I think you have quite a big problem. But if you answer a few questions, I'm willing to let you go free." Perrin raised his hand in warning to Karna who he could tell was ready to protest the offer.

  "Get out of my way!"

  "Why are you here?" Shin took another slow step forward. "What do you want from Edge?"

  "I said no questions!"

  "Because if there's something you need-food, supplies, whatever-we might be able to help you."

  "Get out of my way!"

  Shin stepped closer.

  The Guarder pressed the knife against the private's throat.

  "Where do you live?" Shin said. "Why have you come here?"

  "Shut up! Just shut up!"

  Shin shook his head. "You don't really want to do this, I can tell. Your heart's not into it. That's good." He took another step. "You don't have to, either. You can just drop the knife, and I'll guarantee your safety. Just tell me how I can help-"

  "Don't you understand shutting up?!"

  "Never been good at it," Perrin admitted, taking one more step. "Just never know when to quit . . ." He saw the man's finger twitch on the handle of the knife.

  Karna repositioned his grip on his sword.

  "Just drop the knife and-"

  The captain recognized the Guarder's movement seemingly just a moment before it actually happened. Shin drew his sword in an instant and thrust it into the Guarder's side just as he began to cut into the private's throat.

  Karna's sword struck the Guarder from behind a moment later, and the Guarder and the private both dropped to the ground.

  The Guarder was dead.

  The private only thought he was as he whimpered and held his bleeding throat.

  Shin rushed over to lift him up. "You're all right, soldier. Just nicked your skin. Calm down," he ordered as another soldier arrived with a cloth to tie around his neck.

  Perrin looked over at Karna who was checking the dark man for a pulse.

  He looked up at the captain and shook his head.

  Shin sighed and rubbed his face thoughtfully. "We have one more, Lieutenant. It isn't over yet," and he scanned the thick trees for any sign of their last Guarder.

  Karna nodded, stood up, and gestured to the other soldiers. "Sergeant, take the private to find the surgeon. The rest of you stay along the tree line. The captain and I may have one more for you."

  A corporal pointed at the still body. "What do we do with that, sir?"

  Captain Shin looked down at the Guarder. "He's of no use to us now. Leave him for the buzzards and bears. Karna, now, before we lose the last one."

  Shin took off in an aimless jog into the trees with Karna right behind him. Perrin noticed that this time his lieutenant was much keener to follow him.

  Perhaps, just perhaps, all the soldiers would see the need to follow him into the forest.

  After a minute they stopped jogging and looked around. The forest was absolutely still. Shin glanced behind them as Karna tried to look into the distance. There was no evidence of anyone anywhere.

  "Do you think he heard what happened?" Karna whispered.

  "How could he not?" Shin whispered back.

  "It's going to get dark soon," Karna said.

  "We have a little time yet. We're not leaving until we have to."

  "Understood, sir." Karna's voice was a little shaky.

  Shin turned to him and saw his lieutenant's light brown skin had gone pale. "You all right?"

  Karna shrugged. "Never did that before."

  "What, run into the forest? We've been doing that for the past few days now." Shin surveyed the area again.

  "That's not what I meant," he said quietly.

  "I know, Brillen," Perrin whispered back. "I've threatened many men, but I've never been deadly." He smiled grimly.

  "Which one of us did it, do you think?"

  Shin shook his head. "Maybe both of us. Does that help?"

  "We each claim half a death?"

  Perrin cringed and went back to examining the still trees around them. "Why are we here, Karna?"

  "I've been wondering that for awhile, sir."

  Shin turned back to him. "Really? You don't remember why you wanted to become an officer?"

  Karna sighed. "I wanted to serve, to protect the citizens. I never wanted to . . ." He shrugged lamely.

  Perrin sighed back. "I know, I know. None of us want to. But that's part of the serving and protecting. Did we have any other option?"

  "I suppose not. You did try to negotiate with him."

  "Always my greatest weakness," Perrin admitted. "I've gone over a dozen scenarios in my head, but none of them end with him still talking. Maybe you should've conducted the negotiations."

  "You had a dozen options?" Karna scoffed. "I still can't think of one!"

  "So that's it, then," Perrin said. "We did what we could, he forced our hands, and he lost the game. What more is there to say?"

  Karna shook his head. "Nothing, sir. I still don't feel any better, but there's nothing more to say then . . . let's go find that other Guarder."

  Perrin nodded and the two of them ventured deeper into the woods, keeping an eye on the sun that was close to setting.

  ---

  Two men in mottled green and brown clothing sitting high in the trees watched as the two officers quietly walked below them. Neither of the men breathed or made a sound. When the captain and lieutenant had carefully picked their way past, the two men in the trees looked at each other.

  One raised his eyebrows at the other.

  The other man nodded back and broke into a big smile.

  Then the two men saluted the captain.

  ---

  Mahrree's evening and night dragged. When she went to bed that night it was with a heavy heart and a fluttering belly. Anatomically, that put them at direct odds with other, so she hardly slept at all.

  In the early morning she heard a noise from the kitchen. She instinctively picked up the iron rod and crept down the stairs. Her weary and anxious mind played tricks with her depth perception, so the steps seemed to shift up and down. Growing more terrified by the moment, she thought she would become sick before reaching the bottom. Then she heard a no
ise come through the kitchen door which halted her in her tracks.

  "Perrin!"

  He stopped, looked up at her on the stairs and tried to give her a smile, but his heart wasn't in it. He looked terrible. His black hair was disheveled, his face was scratched and stubbly, his sleeveless undershirt was stained by dirt, sweat, and what Mahrree feared may have been dried blood, and his jacket, which already hung over a chair by the eating table, was caked in what looked like mud.

  Still, she sighed and closed her eyes, feeling an immense wave of relief.

  Then she felt another wave of something else that she chose to ignore.

  She opened her eyes and tried not to stare at the filth on his used-to-be-white undershirt, but she couldn't stop herself. "Oh Perrin! I've been so worried! It's so good to-"

  That's when the other wave she was feeling refused to be ignored any longer. No matter how she fought it, she became sick all over the lower half of the stairs.

  Perrin stood rigid in surprise.

  Mortified, she winced at him as she wiped her chin.

  "I have to admit," he said unemotionally, "I've received better welcomes than that. I'll get something to clean it up. You just stay right there." He turned to the washing room.

  "But Perrin-"

  "Just stay!" he called back. "There's no way you can make it down without, well, slipping or something." He sounded as if he might be sick as well.

  Mahrree slumped down on the still-clean steps, exhausted, embarrassed, and feeling much, much better.

  Perrin returned and tossed some washing rags up to her. "I think we can meet somewhere in the middle. How long have you been sick?" His face reflected some worry as handed up to her one of the two tin buckets he brought. He squatted to begin his unpleasant task at the bottom stair.

  Mahrree laughed weakly as she started to mop up. "Ever since you left. You know how people say they're worried sick? Well, I think proved that statement to be true. Oh, but I'm so sorry. You look awful. You finally come home and then I do this to you-"

  "It's all right-part of our vows: Together, make the best times out of the worst." His voice sounded a bit sharp.

  "Perrin?" Mahrree stepped down a stair.

  "Yes?" He didn't look up from his work.

  "Perrin," Mahrree said more forcefully.

  He glanced up. "What?" His eyes were as clouded as the morning sky.

  "What happened?" she whispered.

  He was quiet for a moment. "We'll talk when everything is . . . cleaner. Both of us," and he gave her a half smile which improved his mouth, but not his murky eyes.

  An hour later they sat at the table for breakfast. Perrin, now washed and shaved and in a new undershirt, gulped down his food as if he hadn't eaten properly in days.

  Mahrree still felt dizzy, and watching him made her lose whatever appetite she had. She nibbled her toast just for show.

  "So," she started when he'd finished half his breakfast, "what happened?"

  "Just what I told you would happen," he said brusquely between bites. "Guarders."

  Mahrree was taken aback by his abrupt manner. But maybe since he'd been an officer for the past four days and nights, his mind was still stuck there. "Really?"

  He nodded, focused on his plate. "It seems they've been watching the fort for some time. Knew our patrols. Ambushed some of the men during the first night."

  "Oh no!" Mahrree breathed. "Are they . . ."

  "Recovering," he said tonelessly. "Some nasty gashes."

  "Is that why your clothes-"

  "No," he cut her off. "Soldiers were already at the surgeon's when I got there." He tore off another bite of bacon and studied the table.

  Mahrree wondered how skirt around his formal tone, but felt she was talking to a stranger. "So whose . . ." She couldn't say the word "blood" without feeling queasy. She hadn't seen more than some superficial cuts on him so she knew it wasn't his.

  "The Guarder's."

  She was growing irritated with his pithy responses. "And how many were there?"

  "At least ten, probably more. At least one escaped. Lost two in a crevice. Irretrievable."

  Maybe more details weren't better, she considered as she cringed at the thought of the ground swallowing up men.

  "They were testing our strength," he added, stabbing at his food.

  Eventually the story would all come out. Mahrree might have to get him more breakfast, though. "And how is your strength?"

  "Not as good as I wished, but enough to impress the general." He pushed around his food with his fork, never once looking at her. "We chased them nearly to Moorland. They have only a dozen soldiers based there, but most were on patrol where we needed them. They helped capture two more prisoners last night." He attacked a fried potato.

  "So you captured some?" She was impressed. "That's never happened before."

  "That's right," he said dully as he jabbed a pancake.

  "Have you learned anything yet?"

  "No."

  "Are they uncooperative?"

  "You could say that." He took a long drink.

  Mahrree sighed in annoyance. "So what does the Guarder look like who stained your uniform?"

  "Dead."

  Mahrree dropped her toast.

  Perrin glanced at her plate where it fell. Eventually he looked up at her with blank, cold eyes.

  "By whose hand?"

  "Unsure," he said impassively. "He was holding a private hostage. Negotiations didn't go well. When he became agitated, Karna and I both rushed him. There's blood on both our swords. Satisfied?" he snapped.

  Mahrree was startled by his sharpness. "I didn't mean anything by it, I just . . ." She didn't feel upset enough to cry, but oddly the tears were building rapidly and spilling down her face.

  Perrin groaned in disgust and threw down his fork which clattered on his almost empty plate. He rested his head in his hands with his elbows on the table and stared at it.

  Mahrree watched him miserably, trying not to sniff out loud. She knew they'd have conflicts, but the tension at the table threatened to break it in half.

  Their bliss was gone.

  He was quiet for a full minute before he spoke. "It's been a very long . . . my head's so foggy that I don't even know how many days." He rubbed his eyes, his voice weary. "I need rest. I've put the master sergeant in charge for today since Wiles seems to have taken ill. I have to write a report for the High General. I've been surviving on rations and snatches of sleep. I don't think well when I'm tired."

  Mahrree nodded that she understood, but didn't dare speak. He was so distant, so unlike the man she fell in love with.

  Perrin studied the table again. "Six prisoners, held separately. Brought them together after it was dark last night. We'd had them tied up, but undid them to walk them back to the fort. That was a mistake, because they did the strangest thing . . ." His voice trailed off.

  Mahrree nervously chewed on her crust.

  "They pulled out these small knives," he continued haltingly. "Didn't know they still had them. Then-they never said a word, just looked at each other. Then they . . . gutted each other. In front of all of us. Some strange, ritualistic manner. At the same time. As if they had to. Forced by . . . something. Before I realized what was happening, it was too late. All dead. Doesn't make sense."

  Mahrree held her hand in front of her mouth, trying to calm the wave of nausea that tried to force its way upward. She couldn't think of what to say to the horror her husband had witnessed.

  "This isn't . . . this isn't the way Guarders behaved in the past," he stammered as if betrayed by his training.

  While she agreed-it was most horrific thing she'd ever heard-she didn't say anything. He didn't seem to be talking to her anyway, but was instead trying to sort out his own thoughts.

  "Why . . . why suicide?" he asked the table. "Why . . . what kind of thinking has to go on in order to kill each other simultaneously? To be feeling the pain, to see the blade plunge . . ." />
  He made a thrusting and slicing motion in the air, and Mahrree squeezed her eyes shut too late.

  "Then still continue with it? It was just . . ." He shook his head in dismay, then suddenly pressed his palms against his eyes, as if to force out the images he still saw.

  Mahrree swallowed hard and her lower lip quivered in empathy. Of course he was short with her, and distant, and angry. How could he be anything else this morning?

  Perrin sat motionless for another long minute, his hands still covering his eyes, while Mahrree tried to think of something-anything-to say. But she had no words that could possibly overcome what he was still reliving.

  "This isn't what they do," he murmured. "They've never done this before . . ."

  In time he pulled his hands from his eyes, and he appeared to be a different man, as if the disillusioned officer in him was abruptly snuffed out, leaving only her troubled husband.

  It was remarkable how he could ignore so much of himself, Mahrree marveled. As if he actually were two different men, just as she thought after the second debate. But she was sure the officer would resurface. Perrin had likely shoved him into a back room of his mind, but he would soon break out.

  Still, Perrin's face was noticeably softer as he reached across the table and took her free hand. "This couldn't have been easy for you. I was hoping a day like this wouldn't come for some time. But then again, we made a good enough show of force that this shouldn't happen again for a long while. They'll think twice before coming back," he added with a small, pitiful smile.

  She tried to smile too. "I'm just happy you're home. And I know there's no good reason for me to be crying. I think I just need a nap, too."

  Half an hour later she collapsed on their bed, and before her husband came upstairs to join her, fell into the deepest sleep she'd had all week.

  When she woke up several hours later, she felt more her regular self. It was already afternoon, and Perrin was sitting at the small desk in their bedroom, drafting his report of the raid for Idumea. When she opened her eyes fully he glanced over, smiled thinly, and went back to work.

  "How are you?" she asked.

  "Fine," he said without looking up.

  Mahrree sat up and hugged her knees. "I mean, how are you? You know, about . . . the past few days?"

  He paused in his writing. "I'm fine."

  "It's just that we should talk about-"

  "We talk all the time, Mahrree," he said to his papers. "I can't think of another couple that talks as much as we do."

  "True, but this is different. We should talk about important things."

  "We went through the lists, a few moons ago."

  "No," she groaned in irritation. Her mother-in-law had warned her about this. "I mean, what you did, what you saw, the Guarders, their knives, and how you feel about it, bloodying your sword-"

  "I've worked it out. I'm fine. It needed to be done, I did it." He gave her a practiced smile, but she didn't believe it. His eyes, while normally dark brown, were even heavier with gloom. The officer was back. "No need to talk anymore."

  "Are you sure?" Mahrree said, because she wasn't.

  "Yes."

  "Really."

  He put down his quill a bit too forcefully, spread out his hands, and took a deep breath. "Yes." He turned in his chair to face her. "Perhaps the more important question is, how are you?"

  Mahrree considered for a moment. "Still a little woozy, but I can make dinner." That's how you give an answer, she thought to herself. Details, explanations.

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes."

  "Are you really sure?"

  Mahrree scrunched up her lips. "I know what you're trying to do."

  "Really?"

  "Perrin-"

  "Irritating, isn't it."

  She sighed loudly. "I'm only asking because I'm worried about you! That's my duty: to worry about my husband. Don't deny me my duty."

  He finally smiled genuinely. "Just don't duty me to death, all right?"

  "How can someone just talk you to death?"

  "I don't know, but I'm sure you'll find a way."

  For absolutely no good reason, her eyes filled with tears again.

  Perrin winced. "I'm sorry." He walked over to the bed and sat down next to her, the officer shoved again into some recess of his brain. He pushed a lock of hair from her face and evaluated her, seemingly looking for something as he put a hand on top of hers. "Trust me. If something's wrong, I'll let you know. Now, why the tears? You didn't even cry at our wedding."

  "I don't know!" she wailed. "Nothing's wrong."

  That's when she noticed his side of the bed hadn't been disturbed, and his eyes were still bleary. "You haven't slept?"

  He shrugged that away. "Can't sleep when it's light outside. Needed to bring a report to Hogal. I'm sure the whole village has already decided what happened, but he'll deliver the truth to them tonight at the amphitheater."

  "Wait, you talked to Hogal?"

  "I always talk to Hogal."

  "But . . . but you're supposed to talk to me!"

  He frowned, confused. "I always talk to you, and I talk to Hogal. I have for years. What's the problem?"

  "You worked it out with him!" she cried. "I'm supposed to be who you talk things out with."

  Perrin scoffed. "If I talked it over with you, I would have had another vomit mess to clean up. So that's what's bothering you? I didn't talk to you?"

  "No!" she barked.

  But that was a lie. Of course it bothered her, among other things! He'd left her for days with no news, came home angry, and now he told her to stop talking because he already talked?

  "So nothing's wrong?" he restated. "Should I trust that answer? Because even though my father doesn't know much about women, he did tell me that when a woman is crying and says nothing's wrong, she's the biggest liar in the world."

  At any other moment Mahrree would have smiled, but right now her fury was swirling around her, and she wasn't even sure exactly why she was furious.

  "So, nothing's wrong?" he asked again, impatiently.

  Mahrree pouted. "Well, I don't want to talk when you're like this!"

  He was mystified. "When I'm like what? Sitting next to you, trying to find out what's bothering you?" his voice grew louder.

  "When you're growling at me?!"

  "Woman, you have yet to hear me growl!"

  "You're growling now!"

  "This is not-" He stopped and made a fist with his left hand. His voice was tight when he began again. "This is not growling, this is debating."

  Mahrree shook her head. "This isn't debating, this is-" She started to cry again. She hated crying, and today of all days she couldn't control it. "This is fighting!"

  She looked at her new husband who was now studying her hand. She'd made a mistake. Why did she marry him? What was she thinking? She could see it now-she'd been blinded, believing everything would be wonderful and ideal, with no major problems.

  Most perfect man in the world? Ha!

  Perrin continued to study her hand and patted it awkwardly. "How can I know what to fix if you won't tell me what's wrong?"

  "Well, when I figure out everything that's wrong, I'll be sure to tell you!" she declared. "I'll make a new list!"

  Perrin's shoulders began to shake.

  Mahrree didn't know what to make of it. She bit her lip and wished he would just leave.

  When he looked up he was . . . smiling? How dare he smile!

  "You're so funny," he chuckled. "You really are."

  "What?!" she shrieked. "How can you say that?"

  He didn't even flinch at her volume. "You just strike me as funny right now, that's all. What, a new batch of tears? Come on, Mahrree!" He put his arms around her.

  She wanted to pull away, but she also didn't want to leave. She'd never felt so, so irrational and girly before, and it was disconcerting. "You're just such a, a . . ." she mumbled into his chest.

  "What, such a man?"
>
  She snorted at his tone. She didn't know where the snort came from, and she tried to pretend it wasn't from her, but spiders don't snort.

  Perrin chuckled again. "Well, I am! And you're such a woman! 'Nothing's wrong,'" he mimicked.

  "Perrin, that's not-"

  "Look," he interrupted. Pushing her gently away, he held her by her arms and looked into her eyes. "We've both been on our own for many years, and we're bound to have some misunderstandings, right? For ten weeks we've enjoyed arguing-" A small but distinct twinkle appeared in his eyes. "But we've never actually fought. We're just due for an actual conflict."

  "But if you really love me-"

  "I'll sit here and try to figure you out!"

  Mahrree tried to think of a reply, but couldn't. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. He didn't know her yet, so how would he know what was bothering her? Last year they didn't even know each other existed.

  And maybe-maybe-she really didn't know him yet.

  "Mahrree?"

  "I didn't know where you were," she murmured. "What happened to you."

  "So . . . we've jumped to the list?"

  Mahrree nodded. "You just left me. Alone."

  "You're used to being alone."

  "Not anymore!"

  He sighed. "That's true. Neither am I, actually. What if I send a messenger the next time I'm detained? So you know why?"

  She nodded.

  "Next?"

  "You were so irritable!"

  "Yes. So? Don't you think I deserved to be, just a bit? I haven't had a full night's sleep in . . . I still don't know how long, and didn't eat decently for days. I witnessed-"

  He stopped, unable to say the words again, and swallowed hard as the memory hit him. She squeezed his hand hoping to convey that she understood. When he continued a moment later, his voice was almost normal. "After all of that, you expect Mr. Charm to walk through the door?"

  "I've never expected Mr. Charm to walk through that door!" Mahrree finally giggled and wiped her face. "I suppose you have a point. You're allowed to act like a bear . . . sometimes."

  "Thank you."

  "But do you have to take it out on me? I didn't keep you out for four nights."

  "No, you didn't. Four nights?" He sighed. "I suppose that's right. But aren't you supposed to be my support? The one who loves and cares for me, no matter what?"

  "I've been trying to. It would help if you acted a little more lovable."

  "And how lovable were you when you got sick all over the stairs?"

  She covered her face with her hands. "Please don't remind me."

  He carefully pulled down her hands, and to her relief, he was grinning. "I come home, exhausted, expecting to find my beautiful bride waiting eagerly to provide comfort and support, and instead I get another mess to clean up. And you wonder why I was 'irritable'?"

  "It's not like I planned to do that, you know!" She looked into his dark eyes, wondering if she would ever get over the effect they had on her. He wasn't perfect, but-well, he was still somewhat wonderful. "I'm sorry. This wasn't a very good week, was it?"

  "I'm sure we'll have a few other bad weeks, and a lot more good weeks. This week could still be good," he suggested. "So, is there anything else I should know about? Anything at all?"

  "No, Captain, I think you can go back to your reports now."

  He kissed her, seemed to want to say something else, but then got off the bed and went back to the desk.

  Mahrree left the bed and went down to the washroom to check his uniform that had been soaking since morning. She lifted the heavy wool out of the cold water and grimaced. The dirt and blood she could understand-most of it had mercifully dissolved in the large washing basin-but she wondered why so much mud seemed to have been caked onto the gold braid. Bits of filth still remained in the twisted sections.

  But it was the small clumps of sticky goo she couldn't understand. She hadn't thought much of it earlier because too many other things occupied her mind. But now, as she saw a few pine needles floating in the water, she began to wonder. She scraped off one of the sticky parts and sniffed it.

  Pine sap.

  "Oh, Perrin, what did you do?" she whispered to his uniform. She let it drop back into the water to soak, hoping the rest of the sap would dissolve away, along with her suspicions. She walked into the kitchen to begin dinner, and Perrin soon came down and sat on a kitchen chair. He subtly watched her while she worked.

  "Everything all right?" she asked as he made notes on his pages. "I think you would be more comfortable in the eating room."

  "No, I'm fine here. Just making sure you're all right."

  "Your uniform's still soaking. Some unusual stains on it," she said casually.

  "Yes, yes," he said, without looking up, "A few tumbles and struggles. I can finish cleaning it. Did so for years. Don't want you getting ill again." He looked up, forced a smile, and went to the washing room to start scrubbing his uniform.

  He doesn't want me to know, she thought as she stirred the pot on the stove. Am I supposed to get it out of him, or just wait until he confesses it? That question occupied her mind until dinner, and during it, when she noticed Perrin frequently watching her out of the corner of his eye.

  He knows I know something's up, she decided. He's trying to see if I'm going to pry it out of him. She didn't ask anything revealing about his uniform during dinner, nor as they sat on the sofa together afterward. But Mahrree could tell he was paying more attention to her instead of his papers. She rested her legs on his lap and pretended to read a book.

  Finally she put it down when she caught him looking at her again.

  "All right. I give up. But I'm not a Guarder, if that's what you're wondering," she teased.

  "What?" he asked, startled.

  "You've been staring at me all afternoon. Something's obviously on your mind, and you're wondering if it's on my mind, too. Aren't you?"

  His shoulder twitched. "Maybe. Depends on what you're thinking."

  "I think you have something to tell me," she accused. "Something you haven't shared."

  She'd never seen such a perplexed look on his face before. "Shouldn't it be you telling me?"

  Now she was baffled. "How would I know?"

  His jaw dropped. "You're supposed to know first!"

  Mahrree blinked. "I'm beginning to think we're not talking about the same thing."

  He squinted back. "I think you're right."

  "So, what are you thinking?"

  He studied her. "How do you feel right now?"

  She couldn't understand where his question was going, but she shrugged. "Better, but still a bit light-headed. I'm just tired, but I think it's because I haven't slept well."

  He didn't seem satisfied by that answer. "Why do you think you were sick?"

  "Because you were gone!"

  He didn't smile, but something was changing his eyes. "Are you sure that's the only reason?"

  Mahrree sat up a little. "What other reason could there be?"

  "It's just that . . . certain things . . . it could be that . . . you're so emotional today . . ." he stumbled with a growing smile. The dark brooding in his eyes began to lighten for the first time since he came home.

  It wasn't until he raised his eyebrows in suggestion and nodded at her belly that Mahrree caught his meaning.

  Oh.

  Ohhh . . .

  Every morning, her irrationality and queasiness . . .

  She looked quickly down at her belly, then back at him.

  "Hmm?" he hinted and shrugged with a gentle smile.

  "No!" she gasped.

  "Are you absolutely sure?"

  "No, I'm not!" she admitted. His smile was contagious, now growing on her face.

  "So how do we know for sure?"

  "We wait, I guess. By the end of the Raining Season we should definitely know something!" She laughed. Then she started to cry. Already? She had heard it could take seasons and even years, but already?!


  "I think we'll know a bit sooner than that. You're making a good case for it right now!" He dabbed at her tears and chuckled. "My mother told me all kinds of things to watch for, and according to her comprehensive list-"

  Mahrree didn't realize until then that every Shin was an extensive list maker.

  "-you're more than just ill." He sighed-rather contentedly-and his eyes grew shiny. "If you are what I suspect you are, then this will have been a good week after all."

  With growing giddiness she covered her mouth with her hands, astonished that the thought never occurred to her. "I just don't dare believe it!"

  "So, that's not what you've been thinking today?" he reminded her.

  "What? Oh, not at all!"

  He kissed her. "So my darling wife, who may be getting much larger in size in the next eight moons or so, what was it that you were thinking today?"

  "About your uniform!" She kissed him back. "Wondering why it was so muddy with pine sap on it. Why, I completely forgot about it."

  "Good," he said shortly. "Now, I suppose once we're sure this is the real thing, we'll need another addition-"

  Mahrree held up her hand. "Usually couples wait to see if the baby survives before building an addition. Not that I'm suggesting that . . ." She couldn't bring herself to say the awful alternative, but she knew it was a possibility.

  So did her husband, but Perrin wasn't going to accept that. "Our baby will live, Mahrree," he said with enough determination to almost ensure it. "Every Shin son for the past four generations came into the world robust and screaming."

  "But . . . what if it isn't a son?" Mahrree winced.

  Perrin's expression went stiff, as if he'd never considered that. He tried to soften it, but the damage was already done.

  Of course he'd think only of a boy, Mahrree thought. That didn't bother her, just concerned her.

  "You obviously survived," Perrin finally managed. "So too would our daughter."

  She was impressed he didn't hesitate on that last word. "We should likely wait anyway," Mahrree decided. "Just to be sure. Now's not the best time to begin an addition anyway, with the-"

  She stopped, suddenly remembering the previous conversation he'd so easily steered her away from.

  "Wait a minute. We were talking about why you uniform was dirty-"

  "Doesn't matter," he waved it off. "I was thinking, if we put the baby's addition against the study, both rooms can share the fireplace-"

  She sat up. "Perrin, why was your uniform so filthy, with pine sap on it?"

  He patted her shoulder. "Now, now. Don't overexcite yourself. Not at a time like this-"

  "Oh, don't patronize me!" she snapped. "This is another avoidance tactic, isn't it? Before we married we promised that we'd be honest with each other from now on. I'm asking you a question, and I expect an honest answer. And so does your baby, should he or she be in there!" She patted her belly and tried to maintain her chastising tone, but another wave of joyful anticipation bubbled up and leaked out her tear ducts.

  Perrin smiled at her conflicted face. "We can discuss this later."

  "We're discussing it now!"

  He sighed and sat back, keeping a hand on hers. "I went into the forest," he confessed.

  "No!"

  "Yes."

  "Did you get out safely?"

  He raised an eyebrow at her.

  She rolled her eyes at her stupidity. "Of course you got out safely, what am I saying . . . wait, what are YOU saying? You went in deliberately?"

  He nodded.

  "Why?"

  "That's where the Guarders are, Mahrree," he said simply.

  "First rule of the army!" she reminded loudly. "No one in the forests!"

  "Yes, yes, yes. I know."

  "So how long were you in there?"

  "We were there about . . ." He looked up at the ceiling as if estimating, "almost the entire time."

  Mahrree's mouth dropped open. "Who else?"

  "Karna."

  "Willingly?"

  Perrin only shrugged.

  "What will your father say?!"

  "That's why I can't sleep. That's what I've been working on-my excuses, explanations, evidence of success, and a proposal to let me do it again-"

  "NO!" Mahrree cried, and protectively held her belly. "You'll die!"

  He sat up and took her hands off her belly to hold them. "I don't understand why you're reacting like this. Just last season you proposed that I go in there and stop them."

  "Well, now things are different," she insisted, realizing that she had completely reversed her position in the last few minutes. True, a few moons ago she wanted her intended to defy the rules, barge into that forest, and scare away all of the bad men.

  But that was before she realized just how bad the bad men were, and before she realized this was real, not just some vain woman's bravado. Her mind was too frazzled to formulate exactly what had changed but something had!

  "Back then, you were . . . you were just-" she started.

  "Just some man you sort of fancied?" he suggested with a hint of teasing.

  "Well, no! I mean, I love you-"

  "Oh, now, but not before?"

  "Stop it!" she exclaimed, aggravated by his new attempt to detour her. "I mean, you can't go into the forest because now you might be a father!"

  He smiled at that before his face became earnest. "Mahrree, the forest isn't that bad. The trees are the safest parts. I can conquer that forest! I scared out several Guarders. They crash around since no one else is there to see them. I'm sure that if I can get an army in there, we can annihilate them, once and for all. Then, Mahrree, no one will die." He put his hand tenderly on her belly. "No one."

  "You can't be serious about going back," she whispered.

  "Ah, Mahrree, believe me-it's just not that bad. Not even the cavern where the two Guarders fell in. It was obvious to see. I stood at the edge and-"

  She stared at him, horrified.

  He stopped talking and rubbed his forehead. "If your response is anything like my father's-"

  "He better be as shocked as me!" she declared. "Perrin, why? Why take such a risk?"

  "For you," he said quietly. "For Edge. For everyone in the world being terrorized."

  "And not for yourself?"

  "Maybe a bit for myself," he confessed, the annoyed officer emerging again. "I wanted answers. Why are they doing this? No one, in all these years, has ever carried on a civil conversation with one of them. It's always been challenges and shouting then blades and then nothing. We have an entire class on them in Command School, and you know what? There's nothing to talk about. If I could just find one willing to explain to me what's going on. Find some truth-anything. You understand that, don't you?"

  He slumped on the sofa, discouraged.

  "It would have been fantastic to find their base or even a settlement, but Mahrree-there was nothing in the forests north of here. Just a few random men chasing each other. And the few men I encountered preferred to die rather than talk. Why? It makes no sense."

  "It never has," she whispered. "It's never added up. Perrin, right before we were engaged, I charted when new kings came to power and when Guarders attacked: always a year and fourteen weeks later, as if the Guarders knew. Or as if the kings knew they needed to defeat someone to prove their strength."

  "You really did that?" he asked, intrigued. "Where are your notes?"

  "I burned them before you arrived that night."

  "Good," he nodded. "That's what I did, too. It occurred to me some time ago that Guarder attacks were convenient. But when the Administrators came to power, and nothing happened after a year and a season, I realized that now maybe things were different."

  "So are they?"

  He nodded. "The spy my father interrogated was a hardened, bitter man. He was for real, Mahrree. I remember that conversation we had the night we were engaged, when you questioned their authenticity. To be honest, I have too. Even after the attack on Grasses
I still had a fragment of doubt. But now?" His face grew pale, his expression grim. "They're even more mysterious than before. Take that business with the small knives . . ." He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to dislodge the images. "Anyway, I hate mysteries."

  She leaned over to snuggle into him. Everything about him was solid and confident, even when he expressed his doubts, and especially when he demonstrated how much his mind was like hers. As he wrapped a muscled arm around her, she imagined he was the strongest man in the world. Which, she smiled to herself, he likely was. It was precisely his strength she needed-his strength of body, and his strength of thought. It was almost as if he was the most perfect man in the world. At least, for her.

  "Please don't go back there again," she begged him. "I want answers just as much as you do, but not this way. Should anything happen to you-"

  His grip around her tightened and he kissed the top of her head. "I'm asking my father for permission, but I doubt he'll say yes."

  "Good. I like him."

  He chuckled mirthlessly. "You're terrified of him, and you know it."

  "As long as he keeps you safe, so you can be with me and our . . ."

  He put his hand on her belly. "Still waiting to know, right? We could ask your mother about it when she returns."

  She sat up. "Are you serious? My mother? We'll just wait."

  The next morning Mahrree awoke to another wave of nausea. She sat up in bed, recognized what the feeling could mean, and cried out, "Oh Perrin! I'm still sick! Isn't that wonderf-" and couldn't say anything more.

  But he was ready. He immediately produced a bucket from under the bed, and his timing couldn't have been better.

  ---

  "You're looking much better today, my boy!" Hogal Densal slapped Perrin on the back.

  He wasn't the first person to do that today. For his entire walk to the village center, people had been congratulating and thanking him for coming to Edge, and now that he was nearing the markets, the crowds thickened. Speaking to the tanner about his idea for leather armor was going to take a lot longer than he anticipated. Normally this would have been Wiles's duty, but the man was still unwell and spending the day sleeping in his quarters.

  When Perrin saw Hogal's proud smile just outside the tanner's, he realized his great-uncle had likely presented a most colorful-and perhaps slightly embellished-retelling of the past few days' events. Trying to win him more hearts and minds, perhaps.

  "I am better, Hogal. Thank you." But before he could continue, another woman came up to pat his arm. "Yes, all over now. No, you're quite welcome. Army of Idumea's here to serve. Hogal, exactly what-Oh, thank you. Just doing what I was trained to do. Yes, everything's safe again . . . Hogal," Perrin took his great-uncle's arm and steered him between two shops, away from the well-wishers. "Exactly what did you say last night? You didn't tell them about the Guarder suicides, did you?" he ended in a whisper.

  Hogal's merry eyes darkened. "Of course not. These people wouldn't be able to handle such details. I'm still struggling with them. No, my boy-" the rector's face brightened again, "I just told them what you told me about the army's ability to keep the Guarders from the village. Everyone here knows too well what happened in Grasses. You prevented another tragedy like that from occurring, and with a smaller army, even. I'm surprised you didn't hear the cheering at your home, especially when I told them about your success in saving a private's life. I wished you'd been here last night."

  "Mahrree and I were a bit tired," Perrin explained, "and occupied by . . . other things."

  "Ah, newlyweds," Hogal smiled.

  Perrin opened his mouth to correct him, but realized he wouldn't know what to say without unintentionally revealing that Hogal might be a great, great-uncle in the next year. Hogal could always get Perrin to confess everything. But not this.

  Perrin just smiled back instead.

 

  Chapter 19 ~ "He's finished, Shin! Out of the army!"