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

by Trish Mercer

Chapter 24 ~ "Remarkable the kind of damage a mere tree branch can do, isn't it?"

  "Well, it was a lovely coat." Gizzada sighed as he evaluated the jagged slash drenched in blood.

  "It likely saved his life," the surgeon said, continuing to work. He wore a perpetual scowl of concern on his pasty face. "The thickness seemed to keep the dagger from going in too deep. Had he been wearing only his overcoat, he would be in much worse shape right now."

  Captain Shin didn't say anything as he lay on his bare stomach on the surgeon's table, since an obliging long block of wood knocked him to the ground ten minutes ago. The surgeon worked quickly while the captain was unconscious, finishing the last of twenty rough stitches just as Perrin began to groan.

  "He came out of that a bit faster than I expected, but at least the worst part is over." He nodded as an assistant handed him thick layers of cotton.

  "Karna," Perrin mumbled.

  The lieutenant, who had been watching with a grimace as the surgeon worked, squatted next to the captain. "Right here, sir."

  "How bad?"

  "Bad enough to keep you from doing somersaults for a time," the surgeon said, setting the cotton in place and unrolling long bandages to wrap it. "But you'll live, as long as you can come up with a convincing story to tell Mrs. Shin."

  Perrin groaned loudly, and not because of the stitches in his back. The snow they had packed over his wound earlier to slow the bleeding and numb the area still had lingering effects.

  Gizzada looked sadly at the bloodied coat. "Can't even give her this as a peace offering. But maybe if it were altered into a tunic?"

  Karna cleared his throat and shook his head at the staff sergeant.

  "And Neeks?" Perrin whispered.

  "He required seven stitches in his forearm," Karna told him, "but he's already back on duty, making sure the men know the official story before they go to bed."

  "And what's the story?"

  "Only a handful of soldiers saw you come out of the forest looking like a bloody man of snow. They've pledged silence to protect your wife. Kind of hard to argue against that. The rest of the men have been told you violated the first rule again, but only to the extent of about twenty paces."

  "Thank you," Perrin said slowly. "Good work, Brillen."

  "Not nearly as good as you, Captain. Fourteen? Where did the other two come from?"

  "Brillen, there were more than fourteen," Perrin murmured as the surgeon and assistant helped him into a sitting position so they could secure his wrappings.

  "More than fourteen!" Karna exclaimed. "How?"

  Perrin tried to shake his head but seemed to forget how to do so halfway there. "I have no idea . . ."

  Karna stepped up to help support him as he began to drift forward. The surgeon and his assistant quickly wrapped the bandages around his chest and back before he toppled over.

  "Lieutenant," the surgeon said in a low voice as they worked, "I wouldn't put too much credence in anything he says right now. He's had an extraordinary night and lost a fair amount of blood. And whenever we plank a man, his mind isn't right for several hours."

  Karna nodded as he strained to support the deadweight of the captain, who was now drooling on his lieutenant's shoulder.

  Gizzada rushed over to help. "What do we tell Mrs. Shin?" he whispered to Karna as he propped up one side of the captain. "He won't be in any condition to go home in the morning. Dawn's just a few hours away."

  The surgeon scoffed as he negotiated his way around the helpers to wrap the bandage around the swooning captain one more time. "And he wonders why none of us is married."

  He secured the end of the bandage and helped the soldiers lay the captain down again. "Where's that rector uncle of his? Send for him. He should be able to come up with something believable."

  ---

  Hogal hadn't slept all night, which was why he was eagerly watching for the dawn. He was hoping Perrin would show up and tell him everything was fine, so he could put down the long knife. It was still dark outside when he saw several dark smudges he assumed were soldiers converging together in front of the house.

  Hogal's stomach knotted in his throat. Whatever it was, he needed to hear it before Mahrree. He fumbled with the iron bars at the front door, unlatched all three of them, and slipped quietly outside. He trotted down the front stairs, forgetting that he was still wrapped in the thick blanket, and made his way over to the soldiers.

  They looked at him in surprise.

  "Well?" Hogal breathed in the frigid air. "What news from the forest?"

  "No news, sir. Forest is quiet, as always," a young sergeant said convincingly.

  "Nonsense!" Hogal snapped. "Perrin Shin is my nephew! I know there was trouble, and no one's going to tell his wife about it but me. Understood?"

  Later he felt a guilty streak of pride that Relf would have been amazed as each young man jumped automatically to attention.

  "You're Rector Densal, sir? I was sent to retrieve you. I'm pleased to report Captain Shin was most successful, sir," the sergeant said in formal tone tinged appropriately with awe. "Fourteen Guarders were killed this night."

  Hogal twitched. "Fourteen?"

  "Yes, sir. But the captain was also injured."

  Hogal's shoulders sagged. "Ah, no. He's not coming home soon then, is he?"

  The sergeant shook his head.

  Hogal looked back at the house, decided it seemed quiet, then said to the soldiers, "Can one of you bring me to him?"

  ---

  Rector Densal walked quietly into the surgery recovery room and winced when he saw his nephew. His torso was bare except for white wrappings around his midsection, and he rested belly down on a cot.

  "Ah, my boy. By the number of bandages, I'm guessing it was pretty severe."

  Perrin squinted open his eyes and tried to smile. "Merely an overly enthusiastic surgeon, Hogal."

  "That and twenty stitches," the surgeon said, folding his arms. "It was severe, Rector. And he's in great pain. He just controls it well. We're getting another batch of snow to pack on his wound again."

  Perrin's smile faded. "Mahrree! Does she know?"

  Hogal sat down on a nearby cot. "No, no she doesn't. I stayed the night at your house, worried about . . . well, everything. I secured all those windows and doors again. She was still sleeping when I left."

  "But you haven't slept at all, have you Hogal? I've never seen such bags under your eyes."

  "Well, you don't look so grand yourself, Perrin. But I've been up all night before. Part of the calling as a rector. But I've never been up all night with one of these," he said, pulling out the long knife from under the blanket he still wore as a cloak. "Can't seem to put it down."

  Perrin cringed. "Oh, Hogal. You should never have touched that."

  Hogal nodded feebly.

  "Sir, may I help you with that?" said a quiet voice. Lieutenant Karna crouched in front of Hogal and gently pried the long knife from his fist.

  "Thank you!" Hogal and Perrin breathed at the same time.

  Karna chuckled. "I'll see that this gets back to your home, Captain," and he slipped it into his waistband.

  "How exactly do you do that?" Hogal said, more lighthearted now the knife was a safe distance away. "Don't you ever cut yourself? Or sneeze?"

  "We simply don't talk about it if we do, sir," said Karna soberly.

  Hogal chuckled, then put a hand on Perrin's bare shoulder. "What happened, my boy?"

  "Guarder," Perrin whispered. "I slipped on the snow, he came over the top of me, right through the coat and tunic. But I got him. Hogal, there were fourteen."

  "I heard that, from the soldier that accompanied me here. I've been thinking about it, and I think I know what might have happened."

  "What, Rector?" Karna sat down on another bunk, and the surgeon stepped closer to hear.

  "Your informant was found out, Perrin," Hogal said gravely. "It was discovered that he sent the warning, and those above him sent two more to finish the job in
case you ensured the other twelve failed. Just when you'd be confident that you had them all, the last two would arrive."

  Perrin closed his eyes. "That's exactly what happened. Can't count on hearing from our friend ever again, can I?"

  "If he was discovered, he's most likely dead," Karna suggested.

  "That would be the Guarder way," the surgeon said with disgust.

  "But she slept through it all, didn't she?" Perrin said with his eyes still closed.

  Hogal smiled. "That she did, my boy. Without a pain, I imagine."

  "Which poses a new problem," Perrin said, "and I hope you can help me with it."

  "What to tell her about that?" Hogal gestured to his torso.

  All the soldiers nodded.

  Hogal clucked his tongue and shook his head. "Remarkable the kind of damage a mere tree branch can do, isn't it? When a horse goes down in the snow, and throws one at just the precise angle? Really, that branch should have broken sooner, but if it had held longer, Perrin would have been impaled on it, instead of severely slashed. Good thing Relf sent the message that the night training experiment is over. Just in time for his son to have a nice three or four days off to sleep at home and annoy his wife by being around too much."

  The surgeon nodded at him. "That's why the forests are so dangerous, Rector, and why we never allow any soldiers into them. Perhaps now they should even stay away from the edges!"

  He shot a severe look at the captain. Shortly after they'd packed Shin's back in snow, the surgeon opened and read the captain's letter he'd signed a few days before. Then he threw it angrily into the fire and went to work on the noncompliant officer.

  "I'll write instructions for Mrs. Shin on how to care for her husband. I'm sure he'll be more comfortable at home. We can move him after midday meal, when he's a little stronger."

  Karna nodded at the rector. "I'll be sure the soldiers know the dangers of branches. Most should still be getting breakfast," and he left the surgery.

  Hogal patted Perrin gently on the shoulder when they were alone."Excellent work, my boy. I couldn't be prouder. I suspect you were sent some help?"

  Perrin's eyes became damp. "Hogal, you have no idea, and I think only you would understand."

  "I look forward to hearing the story. But first, I'll go get Mahrree."

  ---

  It was a little over an hour later, as dawn was breaking and ending that very long night, that Perrin heard the whimper.

  "I don't believe it! Look at you! Oh, Perrin!"

  He attempted a smile. "Hello, my darling wife. How did you sleep?"

  "Wonderfully, I'm ashamed to say." She kneeled down by his cot and gingerly touched his back. "You must be in so much pain."

  "I'm fine-they froze the area with snow again," he whispered. "Where's Jaytsy?"

  "Tabbit came over so she and Hogal are both there for when she wakes up."

  "And our little kicker?"

  Mahrree held her belly. "Still kicking, but no pains right now."

  He closed his eyes. "Thank the Creator."

  She wiped away a tear and attempted to stroke his bare back, unsure of where to touch him. "This is so awful! A tree branch? Thank goodness your father stopped these ridiculous night drills. When I get home I'm going to write to tell him exactly what his little experiment did to his son!"

  "No, no, no," Perrin whispered earnestly. "You'll do no such thing. Let me handle it. How about I dictate a message and you write it down?"

  "And make my own additions as I see fit?"

  He would have chuckled if he could. "We'll see."

  She kissed his bare shoulder and stroked his dark hair. "I'm so sorry, Perrin. I'm so sorry this happened to you."

  "It's all right, Mahrree. I'm just sorry I got injured when you've been having pains."

  She kissed him on the lips. "How about we both laze around for a few days together?"

  "Sounds perfect," he whispered back.

  From several paces away the surgeon, Karna, and Neeks watched the two of them talking quietly. The men looked away when they kissed again.

  "Guess there are one or two reasons to get married," Grandpy said, gruffly clearing his throat and holding his bandaged arm.

  Mahrree turned and noticed the audience behind her. She blushed and pushed herself to stand up. All three men rushed over, but she was on her feet before they got there.

  "You all right, Mrs. Shin?" the surgeon asked with unusual gentleness.

  "Yes, I'm doing well this morning, thank you. When did you say we can bring him home?"

  "After midday meal. He needs to rest and get a little stronger so he can help us help him. I've given him some tea so he'll sleep for a few hours."

  Mahrree nodded. "I'll go home and get things ready. Probably shouldn't be going upstairs to bed, should he?"

  The surgeon shook his head. "Give him a night or two on your main level, then we'll see how he's feeling."

  Staff Sergeant Gizzada came in to the surgery and gave a meaningful look to the three other men. All of the white-now-stained-red clothing was being burned, destroying the evidence. He put his finger to his lips when he saw the exhausted captain drifting off to sleep. "Just checking on him," he whispered.

  "He'll be fine in a few days," the surgeon said. "I'll get the notes, Mrs. Shin. I'll also be by this evening to evaluate him."

  "Thank you," Mahrree smiled as the surgeon started for his desk. "Well, I suppose I should take his uniform jacket and overcoat with me. Doesn't look like he'll be wearing them home today."

  "I'll walk you home when you're ready, Mrs. Shin," Karna told her.

  "And I'll get the uniform, ma'am," Gizzada nodded. He walked to where the folded blue overcoat and jacket sat on a chair, and carried them over to Mahrree and Karna. The lieutenant took the bundle from him as Neeks tipped his cap good-bye and started for the door of the surgery.

  "I should see if the damage is repairable or not," Mahrree murmured, lifting the overcoat from off the top. "After it's soaked for a few hours."

  All four men stopped suddenly.

  Karna turned abruptly to Mahrree. "Repairable?"

  Neeks stopped at the door and slowly pivoted.

  The surgeon at his desk looked up sharply.

  Gizzada's eyes doubled in size.

  "Yes, his overcoat and jacket," she said, letting the overcoat unfold from her hands. "Not that I'm much of a seamstress, but my mother . . ."

  The four men looked desperately at one another, but it was already too late.

  Mahrree had turned the overcoat to look at the red-soaked gash she anticipated seeing there. She held it up in front of her face while the surgeon, Neeks, Karna, and Gizzada held their breaths, waiting for her response to the overcoat in pristine condition.

  Slowly she lowered the coat and looked at the four men, her face ashen. "He wasn't wearing his uniform, was he?"

  The men looked at each other, unsure of what to say.

  Captain Shin snored softly.

  "There was no tree branch either, was there?"

  Karna shifted his feet, Neeks swallowed hard, the surgeon cleared his throat, and Gizzada licked his lips.

  "And he doesn't want me to know why, either. Does he?"

  That, the men could answer. They all shook their heads ever so slightly.

  Mahrree closed her eyes and clutched the overcoat to her chest. "Thank you for taking care of him. And me."

  "Happy to do it, ma'am," Karna whispered.

  ---

  "But Perrin, are you absolutely sure you only stabbed him in the cheek?"

  Hogal whispered, not worried that Mahrree would hear him-she was in the kitchen with Hycymum and Tabbit cooking a big dinner-but because Jaytsy was snuggled up against her father, napping soundly. She and Perrin lay on the large down and straw mattress, placed in front of the hearth in the gathering room by the soldiers that helped bring Perrin home. The sofa and stuffed chairs were pushed to the sides to make room for the bed. Hogal sat on a pillow next t
o Perrin who spent the day-and would spend many more nights-shirtless and on his belly with his back exposed.

  Hogal removed the last of the cotton and winced at the stitched bloody gash. In a few minutes they would be packing snow over his wound again.

  "I've run it over and over in my mind." Perrin rested his chin on his hand and gazed into the fire. "That earlier incident, with the Guarder I hit only in the leg with my arrow, I could imagine a few scenarios for why he suffered a wound in the chest. Fell on his own dagger, or his companion stabbed him, or he fell on a broken stump . . . But that thirteenth Guarder, there's simply no explanation. I was losing consciousness as he was choking me. It took all my remaining strength to thrust the knife behind me, and I didn't have a lot force going over my shoulder. There's no way I slipped and stabbed him in the neck. The wound was too deep, at the wrong angle, and delivered by someone with great strength. Even after he released me, I wouldn't have been in any condition to take him out until I could breathe easily again. Hogal, someone else was in that forest!"

  Hogal nodded slowly. "I can't think of any other explanation, either."

  "My question is," Perrin whispered, "who? How? Why?"

  "That's actually three questions, my boy, but who's counting. Perhaps a sympathetic Guarder? Maybe even your informant?"

  "Maybe," Perrin whispered, patting Jaytsy's back with his free hand as she slept next to him. "Maybe he heard that more were being sent, and he came to help." He shook that off. "No, that's not right. I don't know why, but I just feel it's not right."

  "Agreed," Hogal said. "What happened out there to you-for you-is remarkable. I prayed all night for you to receive help, and you most definitely did."

  "I was on my knees after that twelfth Guarder, Hogal. I was thanking the Creator when I heard the thirteenth come up behind me."

  "He sent you help you didn't even know you needed."

  "Hogal," Perrin's whisper was barely audible, and his great-uncle leaned down to hear him better, "only you could understand this but, somehow I felt as if He was in the forest."

  Hogal squinted. "The Creator?"

  Perrin shrugged then winced as he regretted the movement that shifted his back. "That's not quite right either. I'm not saying the Creator was killing that last Guarder, but somehow it felt as if His presence was there. For a place so cold and dark, it was actually comforting. I can't explain it."

  "I don't think you have to, Perrin," Hogal said. "There's so much in the world that's beyond our explanation. Sometimes we think we know everything, but when we finally see all that this world really involves, we'll discover we knew nothing at all. All our ideas were just as pitifully inaccurate as four year-olds arguing over what kind of baby snake a worm is. No, for now our understanding is so limited, our minds so small, the world so large-the Creator's power is simply beyond our comprehension. Don't try to explain anything, but be grateful for the experience and, after Mahrree has birthed this next baby and she's steady again, tell her about it too. She needs to know."

  "Agreed," Perrin whispered. "I feel awful not telling her the truth."

  "Not only because of that," Hogal said as he removed the last bit of cotton, "but because . . ." He hesitated.

  "What is it, Hogal?"

  The old rector was quiet for another moment before he continued. "I wished I didn't have to say this, but it's very clear to me now: Perrin, the Refuser isn't only after you. He's after you're entire family."

  "No!" Perrin whimpered, putting his large hand back on his daughter's small body. "Because of me-"

  "No, my boy!" Hogal gripped his nephew's arm. "Not because of you, but because of who they are. Who they will become."

  Perrin craned his neck to see his great-uncle better. "What are you talking about?"

  "I wished I could understand more, but I don't have the sight of a guide. I'm merely a lowly rector who receives impressions." Hogal sighed. "Perrin, it's no coincidence you married Mahrree. She poses just as great a threat to the Refuser's plans as you do. She may prove to be a most dangerous woman some day. In fact," he hesitated again, "I'm sure of it."

  "Mahrree? My small Mahrree?" Perrin scowled. "Dangerous?"

  "That's why she was targeted," Hogal nodded. "Remember the saying, 'The smallest annoyances-"

  "-grow into the biggest pains.'" Perrin sighed and finished the familiar phrase. "'It's not the boulders in your way that slow you down, but the pebble in your boot.'"

  "Exactly. And your children? I believe the Creator doesn't randomly send souls to families. He has a plan. For you, your wife, your daughter, and your son."

  Perrin's eyebrows shot upwards.

  "They'll all someday do things to anger the Refuser. The four of you are in the same family for a reason: you must all fight this war together."

  Perrin closed his eyes, not only because of the increased twingeing in his back, but now also because of the twingeing in his mind. "War," he whispered.

  "I'm afraid so," Hogal whispered back. "I wished I was a guide-they could bestow blessings of protection. I can only pray. But remember, you've won two battles in the war so far. I also don't think the Refuser's going to give up easily. Whoever he's influencing isn't about to quit. The third battle-who knows?"

  "And how many more after that?" Perrin murmured, his eyes still shut.

  "I wouldn't even dare guess," Hogal said softly. "This isn't a war that will end anytime soon. Maybe not even until the Last Day."

  "You couldn't even give me one full day to enjoy my victory, could you?" Perrin opened his eyes to glare, only half in jest.

  "Oh, they're cheering you, Perrin Shin!" Hogal declared with smile. "In the Paradise of our ancestors, there's great rejoicing!"

  Perrin scoffed. "If you say so, Hogal Densal. I'm not hearing much."

  "We rarely do, but trust me: they're there."

  His nephew smiled faintly, and then it faded. "How can I tell Mahrree any of this?"

  "Don't tell her my impressions about your family, my boy. Simply tell her about what happened in the forest." Hogal put the soiled bandages in a bag to be washed later. "She already suspects something else happened. Your lieutenant told me-of all your planning and care, there was one detail that was overlooked."

  "What detail?"

  "Your uniform. Completely undamaged and unbloodied?"

  Perrin groaned. "My uniform! How could I have forgotten that? What did she say?"

  "Not much, but thanked your officers for taking care of you and her. Uh, Perrin," Hogal paused. "Exactly what were you wearing, if not your uniform?"

  "White furry butterflies," his nephew grumbled.

  Hogal pondered that. "I see. And exactly how hard do they hit you to knock you unconscious? They're sure planking doesn't cause any memory problems?"

  A voice prevented Perrin's response. "I believe you're expecting this?" Tabbit said brightly as she came in with a bucket half filled with snow, the weight of it slowing her down to a shuffle. Her smile vanished when she saw the ragged wound that was nearly the width of her nephew's back. "Oh. My. If Joriana saw that she'd-"

  Hogal held up his hand for the bucket. "Thank you, my dearest. Why don't you go back and help with dinner?"

  "Hycymum's got it," she said, her voice breaking and her eyes transfixed by the oozing around the stitches.

  "Then ask Mahrree for some thick cloths to put around the snow on his back, so as it melts it won't make the bed wet."

  "We have enough of that with Jaytsy in our bed so often," Perrin chuckled quietly, trying to lighten his great aunt's-and his-mood.

  Tabbit's shocked expression softened to hear her nephew joking. "Yes, of course," she said, backing up. "Thick cloths, on the way!"

  Mahrree's voice came from the washing room. "I've got them already, Tabbit. Why don't you go help my mother? I still can't follow her kitchen talk."

  Tabbit nodded and willingly headed back to the kitchen as Mahrree came and kneeled down next to her husband.

  Perrin glanced at her f
urtively, trying to see that small woman with delicate hands, growing belly, and soft yet piercing eyes of green-

  No, wait.

  Gray, or . . .

  Moldy mud?

  Well, while he still couldn't figure out the exact color of her eyes-her eyes that were trying hard to be brave, but were unsuccessfully masking her horror-there was something he did know: she wasn't nearly as brave as she pretended to be. Oh sure, she talked a supposedly dangerous talk on the platform, but no one ever took Edgers seriously. Idumea knew all intelligence was centered in the middle of the world, and it became diluted the further one traveled away. By Edge of the World, people were considered geniuses if they could put a hat on the correct body part.

  And Mahrree knew that, too. She never would have been so brave on the platform in Pools, or even Mountseen. And it's not as if she'd ever be bold enough to enter the forests. How can one be dangerous without courage? No, underneath it all she was timid and wary and that was exactly the way Perrin wanted her-

  Most dangerous woman.

  Maybe it was because Hogal was still in the room that the improbable words insisted on mashing themselves into his brain. He tried to shake them loose as he looked at her perfect lips pursed in worry. How could she possibly ever be dangerous? What in the world could that mean?

  No. No, Hogal must have got it wrong.

  Although Hogal never got things wrong.

  Perrin decided not to think about it anymore. Besides, something more immediately worrying was about to happen.

  Mahrree took a deep breath and said analytically, "So, I suppose it could be worse." But her tone suggested she'd never seen anything so terrible in her life as the roughly stitched gash. She placed some of the thick cloths around his wound. "Then, um, we're to pile the snow on it, a few inches deep," she said in an almost passable imitation of the surgeon, if her voice hadn't been quavering. "The cold numbs the area while also controlling bleeding and swelling. We'll do it again before you go to sleep tonight-"

  She accidentally brushed one of the thick black-threaded stitches, and he flinched.

  "I'm so sorry!" she whispered, the last of her detached pretense vanishing.

  "Mahrree, shall I-" Hogal started, but Mahrree shook her head.

  "No. No, I can do this. Thank you, Hogal. My husband, my responsibility. So," she said trying to calm her voice, "do we put the snow on in layers, or just as one clump?"

  "I'm not sure," Perrin said, his eyes squeezed shut in anticipation. "Perhaps just plop it all on at once, so you don't have to look at it anymore. It will probably all feel the same to me."

  Hogal gently scooted Jaytsy to the far side of the bed, making sure her thumb stayed in her mouth so she'd remain asleep.

  Mahrree nodded a thanks and plunged her hands into the bucket to pull out a mass of cold icy snow. "At least you got injured during the Raining Season, when we have all this snow." She winced as she dropped it on the jagged injury.

  Perrin writhed and arched his back.

  "I'm so sorry!" Mahrree gasped.

  "No, just cold!" Perrin gasped back. "Really, it's good, it's good."

  "If you say so," she whimpered, putting another handful on his back and smoothing it to cover evenly.

  He squirmed and shut his eyes tight, a strangling noise coming from his throat.

  "What is it?" Mahrree whispered frantically.

  "Leaking. Down my side. Tickles," he breathed. "Wipe it up!"

  Mahrree broke into a relieved grin and took an unused cloth to wipe the melted snow that the dam of cloths failed to retain.

  "Thank you, my darling wife," he whispered.

  "Anything for you!"

  Hogal patted Mahrree on the arm. "I think you've got things here. I'll see if Hycymum needs a taster," and he shuffled off to the kitchen.

  Perrin's shoulders relaxed as he grew used to the freezing sensation numbing his back. With Hogal gone, it was easier to push aside what his great-uncle suspected about his family. For a moment he could even ignore the idea that it was the "most dangerous woman in the world" he trusted with his injury.

  "How are you feeling?" he asked Mahrree.

  "I'm all right," she assured him, wiping up more melting snow that trickled down his ribs. "How are you?"

  "It's not as bad as it seems. I should be able to get up and walk around tomorrow. Help you a bit."

  "Don't need to," she said. "My mother and Tabbit cooked enough for us for days and Mother also did the washing, so we can rest here and enjoy watching Jaytsy destroy the house."

  He chuckled quietly. "You know, I was thinking that under different circumstances, this would be rather romantic. Our bed on the floor in front of the fireplace . . ." He turned slightly and raised his eyebrows suggestively at her.

  She giggled. "Your back incapacitating you, our daughter here, my mother and your great aunt and uncle in the kitchen-"

  "So, you do want to argue?" he said in the low rumbling voice that he knew always drove her to distraction.

  But sometimes, a woman simply won't be distracted.

  "How can you be thinking like that at a time like this?" She chuckled as she continued wiping.

  "What else should I be thinking about?" he asked, trying to avoid the many thoughts clogging his mind.

  "Your story."

  "What story?"

  "The one you should be coming up with, to explain why you're wounded, but your uniform is unscathed?" She raised her eyebrows at him, but she wasn't suggesting the same thing he was a minute ago.

  Perrin exhaled as he stared into the fire. "I was wondering when you might ask. Thought I might have more time, but . . . Mahrree, I really didn't want to tell you this. I wanted to spare you the knowledge that, well, that your husband's an idiot."

  Mahrree nodded soberly as she readjusted a cloth. "It's all right. From our first debate I had my suspicions."

  He smiled. "Well, here it is. You realize that men are merely overgrown boys, right?"

  "Unfortunately, yes."

  "And that sometimes men will dare each other to do stupid things, like boys dare each other?"

  "Well, this is far more interesting than I anticipated. Go on."

  "And the later at night, the more outlandish those dares become?"

  "I'm not going to lie, Perrin-I'm praying we have another girl."

  "Well, Mahrree-" he decided not to tell her Hogal already knew it was a boy, "-it's like this: in Command School there was this dare. The older classes would dare the younger classes to run across the campus in the middle of the night during the coldest part of Raining Season in only their . . .underpants. And sometimes even less than that."

  "Uh-huh," Mahrree said thoughtfully. "I see why women are not allowed in Command School. Here I always thought it was because they were considered less intelligent."

  "Well, Karna and I were getting bored last night, so we started reminiscing about life in Command School, and well . . . he went first since he's younger. He stripped and ran to the feed barns and back. I told him that wasn't impressive, so I went next. Stripped down to my underpants, mounted my horse, and rode to the forest."

  "Any mead involved?"

  "Mahrree, you know I never drink mead."

  "So you were completely sober when you did this." She shook her head. "Somehow that just makes it all worse."

  "My horse grew skittish and bucked, and the next thing I know I'm flying backward in the air, right toward a dead tree. So if it seemed to you as if my officers were trying to cover up something, it's because we're all idiots. Neeks was going to go next-something about proving enlisted men's worth-until he saw what happened. I understand his trousers were off."

  "Hmm. Indeed, you all are idiots," she decided. "Tell me, does this dare involve anything else, like perhaps a white scarf?"

  Perrin swallowed, having forgotten about that as his story had unraveled in his mind.

  "Because, you see," she continued casually as she put another pile of snow on his wound, "I w
as looking for mine earlier. I never wear it because I think white is impractical, but I thought it might be comfortable to wrap around your bandages. Yet I can't find it anywhere. Almost," she said slowly, "as if it were Guarder snatched."

  Perrin hesitated for only a moment before ignoring her last comment. "Yes, yes the dare does involve a bit more. I took the scarf last night expecting this might happen. The actual dare is, 'Run across the campus wearing only a piece of your girlfriend's clothing.'"

  "Rather wordy."

  "Rather drafty. At least I won last night, since I'm the only one with a 'girlfriend.' Lost the scarf, though. Sorry." He didn't add, Because it likely was Guarder snatched.

  "I guess I should be proud of you. And that's the story you're sticking with?"

  He blinked in innocence.

  She smiled sweetly.

  "I just confessed to being an idiot! You really think there's something more?"

  She kissed his cheek. "Have I told you today that you are the most perfect man in the world, and that I love and adore you more than words can say?"

  He smiled. "I love you, too."

  "I think that's obvious. Now, not that I wasn't thoroughly entertained by your story-although I really didn't need that image of Grandpy Neeks and his lack of trousers because now I can't seem to shake it," she shuddered dramatically as Perrin chuckled, "-I'm merely wondering, how long until you tell me the truth?"

  He sighed. "As long as I can get away with it."

  "You have to report this injury to Idumea, you know. Too many soldiers know about it."

  "I know," he whispered. "I'll find a way to take care of that."

  "Perrin, just tell me-what happened?" she whispered back. "While it's jagged, this slice is too clean to be caused by a tree branch. I can tell that much. It looks more like a knife wound. Or . . . a dagger."

  He twisted his arm to pat her belly. "At least another three moons until you can birth this one safely, right?"

  "So the midwives are guessing."

  "I'll tell you in thirteen weeks, then."

  ---

  Two men sat in the dark office of an unlit building.

  They stared at each other in the growing shadows, silently daring the other to claim the upper hand.

  Brisack broke first. "Any news from the observers in the forest above Edge?"

  It was a good opening line. Didn't claim victory or admit defeat, just asked for information.

  "No news," Mal said plainly.

  Another good line. No concessions or challenges. Just ending his opponent's questioning.

  "Wonder why that is," Brisack pressed, putting the burden of response on the other party.

  "Cold weather," Mal said shortly.

  Accurate. But also irrelevant.

  "Too cold to move messages, then," Brisack nodded once. "But not too cold for the fort at Edge."

  The staring match heated.

  Both men knew what news came from Edge. High General Shin had been quite vocal about what he called a deliberate attack on his son. Within minutes of the news reaching the High General, messages flew out to every fort to watch for snowy attacks, since Edge had been singled out by at least fourteen Guarders. That's how many the soldiers encountered, Captain Shin killing eleven of them himself. And the High General made sure every last person knew that, too.

  What didn't come from the general, interestingly, were any details. Unlike the previous time, when Captain Shin violated the first rule of the army, there was no information about the attack. Not from either of the Shins, nor from any observers in the forest.

  Everything and everyone in the north was unusually silent.

  "Forts have more resources through which to send information," Mal explained.

  "Not that our observers might also be dead?" Brisack suggested.

  "There's no evidence either way to form any kind of conclusions. May never be any."

  Silently they glared at each other again, the temperature in the room increasing in relation to their tempers.

  "You said twelve," Brisack finally seethed.

  "And you told him twelve!" Mal boiled back.

  Brisack swallowed hard, but recovered. "You have the map!"

  "He's a test subject!"

  "And he succeeded!" Brisack bellowed. "Even against fourteen! Just as I predicted!"

  There.

  Brisack claimed victory, which meant Mal had only one option as he gripped the armrests of his chair. "You invalidated the study by influencing the test subject with your interference."

  "You created an unnatural situation," Brisack countered.

  "All of this is unnatural, Doctor!" Mal gestured to the shelves of his library packed with notes and writings. "But I never cheat to see a result I want."

  "You have Wiles's map! You told them exactly how to reach the house!"

  "We did the same thing in Grasses, with the captain's sister and parents. Why is this any different than Grasses?" Mal leaned back with a smug expression. "I see it now, Doctor Brisack. You've lost your objectivity. Couldn't stand to see him lose the mate and litter, so you gave him a little hint. You know Gadiman found your message."

  "That's obvious," Brisack said steadily. "I've told you, he's as subtle as a twister in Weeding Season and just as damaging, throwing around his glares thinking no one notices. I don't regret warning Shin. And considering how successful he was, I rather suspect he didn't even need my warning."

  "There will be no evidence gathered or analyzed concerning this raid," Mal decided. "The test was compromised, so no information will be worth our effort."

  Mal wouldn't even evaluate his failure, and Brisack gloated about that later.

  "Anyway," Mal's shoulder twitched, "Perrin's out of the army, so-"

  "Wait a minute," Brisack interrupted, "What do you mean, out of the army?"

  "Neeks's report stated that the captain stepped into the forest-" Mal began calmly.

  "Only a few paces!"

  "Nevertheless, Captain Shin knew what would happen if he violated the first rule again," Mal clasped his hands in front of him. "He would be relieved of duty, and-"

  "You haven't done that, have you?"

  "Tomorrow morning I'm going to visit his father," Mal said.

  "No you won't. You couldn't bear to do it."

  "What do you mean?"

  "You already would've done it if you were serious," the doctor pointed at him, "but so much of what we do is because of him. And to lose him, already? Oh, no. If you let him go now, he'd be a regular citizen and all your connections, ability to watch and test him would be reduced to almost nothing. In a way, he'd win."

  Mal's shoulder twitched again.

  Brisack began to smile. "That's it! He wins no matter what. Yesterday you didn't push Relf about what happened, because you suspected Perrin went back in the forest, and that would kick him out of the army and your experiments. So he wins by doing what he wanted and by staying in the army. You've lost twice, and the captain doesn't even realize the size of his victory!"

  Mal glared his best, but Brisack was in far too good a mood.

  "We have other matters needing attention," Mal said abruptly. "We haven't fully evaluated the information from the past raids, especially in Trades. Who died there, and what were the effects?"

  "Just that easily, eh?" Brisack shook his head. "Just replace one citizen with another? One didn't die here, but oh good-a few died there. Let's get to analyzing!"

  Mal rolled his eyes at the doctor's attempt at sarcasm. "Citizens die every day. More are born to replace them. We can study one just as easily as another-"

  "They're not horses, Nicko. They're humans! People are not interchangeable!"

  "That's where you're wrong!" Mal's patience finally wore out. "That's the whole purpose of this study-the animalistic nature of humans. I'll agree that there are subtle differences in personalities, responses, whatever. But when you get right down to it, you can use any mule to pull a cart, any woman to birth a baby, a
nd any man to wield a sword. Just teach, manipulate if you must, bridle, threaten, and control, and it will perform."

  "And one will not out perform another, through sheer will or determination or desire?" Brisack pressed.

  "No!"

  "And that's why you're invalidating the study on Perrin Shin," Brisack snatched the upper hand, "because he proved everything you just claimed to be completely false. He's defied your every attempt to control him, and he keeps succeeding!"

  Mal opened his mouth, but no words came to it. As Brisack smirked, Mal finally came up with something to say. "New procedure. I want the forts to have a set of eyes in them."

  Brisack frowned. "In them? None of our men in Command School-"

  "Not officers," Mal said. "What I have in mind are enlisted men. Shy boys requiring the frequent attention of their fort commanders to 'bring them up' a bit, take them under their wings, so to speak."

  Brisack let out a low whistle. "That's never been done before."

  "Neither has been using the Administrators' messaging service to send a warning from a Guarder," Mal intoned.

  "I'm not one of them," Brisack declared. "Only an observer."

  "You swim in the same pond, Doctor."

  "There's a great difference between the swans and the leeches, Nicko. And just what are you hoping to accomplish with this?"

  "Keep an eye on the commanders. Nudge them back into place from time to time."

  Brisack shook his head. "You're talking about putting in mere boys, Nicko. They aren't nearly understated or experienced enough to pull off something so complex. They'll be found out within days, especially if they're trying to send messages."

  "I wouldn't require constant messages," Mal waved that off. "Only communication in times of extreme situations or unexpected opportunities. They could be successful once or twice a year."

  "Hmm," Brisack considered, in spite of himself. Research was research, after all. Who was to say what was acceptable and what wasn't?

  Well they were, of course. They made the rules.

  "You know," the doctor mused slowly, "if just the right men are placed, they could deliver a wealth of information. How many forts will you begin with?"

  Mal's mouth formed a suggestion of a smile. "For now, just one. Training for this new position begins as soon as the right man is located."

  "But I haven't sent any messages-"

  "No," Mal cut him off. "Only I do that now."

  Brisack bristled. "May I at least know which fort is receiving this new procedure?" he asked coldly. "Might it be Edge?"

  Calmly Mal said, "Yes, to understand what makes him Perrin Shin. My good doctor, I will prove to you that he's just another horse," he continued with the determination of a man who would never be proven wrong again. "He may be more stubborn and willful than average horses, but I have yet to meet an animal I couldn't break. It just takes the right amount of force. And the right man!"

  ---

  "Are you comfortable?" Mahrree asked Perrin as she tried to find a way to cover his still-oozing wound with the blanket. Realizing the weight could irritate his stitches, she instead tossed a few more logs on the nearby fire.

  "I'm comfortable-and warm-enough," Perrin assured her. "You need to sleep too, my darling wife."

  Mahrree nodded grudgingly and crawled into bed between her husband and daughter, who whimpered briefly in her sleep. Mahrree smiled at her and thought, I've been wanting to whimper all day, Jaytsy.

  "It's sadly funny," Perrin said as she tried to get comfortable, "you'd give anything to sleep on your stomach, and I'd do anything to sleep on my back."

  "We'll never be satisfied, will we?" she sighed dramatically. "By the way, I saw the plans you drew for the new baby's bedroom."

  "I think I should be able to start working on it in a few weeks when my stitches are fully healed."

  "You could get help," she suggested. "Your plans are so detailed anyone could follow them. Three layers of cross-hatched planking, with a space between two of the layers? Should regulate the heat much better."

  "I'll add the extra layer to Jaytsy's room first. It just gets too cold in there for a baby, especially on nights like this."

  "And if it works well, perhaps you could . . ." She paused. She knew he wasn't going to like her idea, but she was feeling desperate that night.

  Actually, that entire day.

  Ever since she saw that horrible gash on his back-

  "I could what?" he prompted.

  "You'd be an excellent builder, Perrin. You're strong, meticulous, creative-"

  "What are you getting at, Mahrree?"

  "Why don't you be a builder instead of a . . ." She hesitated again.

  "What, a destroyer?" he snapped.

  No, he wasn't coming over easily to her idea at all. She sighed. "I was deciding between saying 'captain,' 'officer,' or 'commander.'"

  "Which probably all mean destroyer to you," he exclaimed quietly so as to not disturb his daughter. "We've been through this. No one else can keep Edge safe, and have you considered-"

  "Have you considered," Mahrree interrupted evenly, "that there are other commanders in the world? Idumea churns out a new crop of officers every year."

  "None that I trust to keep us safe!"

  "If you weren't the commander, you wouldn't be a target, Perrin," she pointed out. "I'm not stupid, you know. Your injury is a result of your job. And if you had a different job-"

  "I'd still be a target, Mahrree. And so would you and our children."

  "How?" she demanded, beginning to lose patience with his stubbornness. "Why? We could drop out of sight, live a quiet little life, and no one would care about us. We're nothing special, Perrin. It's not like . . ."

  She had to say it, just to see how he'd react. Her own little test of him.

  "It's not like . . . . the world's out to get us."

  "And how can you be so sure?" he challenged.

  Mahrree swallowed hard. "Because . . . because . . ." she faltered.

  Someone just failed the test. She suspected it was her.

  Then she felt her husband's large hand tenderly caress her cheek.

  Oh, and he was passing it so well, too.

  "Don't you ever get the feeling the world is out to get us, Mahrree?" he said gently. "And I thought you said you could handle being married to an officer. It's what I was before I met you, what I planned to be ever since I was a child."

  "When I was a child, I planned to find Terryp's land," her voice quavered. "Sometimes we have to change our plans."

  He groaned quietly. "It's just not that easy, Mahrree. This is what I have to do."

  She propped herself up to see him better. "Are you sure? Just explain to me why."

  "I can't," he whispered, his eyes pained. "I just know that we aren't safe, nor might we ever be, no matter what I do."

  Mahrree rolled her eyes. "What a comforting thought to consider right before I go to sleep."

  He chuckled. "You're so funny sometimes."

  "I wasn't being funny."

  She wanted to say something else, but didn't dare. She'd been feeling him near her all day, reassuring her that her husband would eventually recover, and trying to keep her calm so her belly wouldn't tighten.

  He also wasn't pleased that she tried to push away his last mortal advice to her. He was waiting patiently-on the sofa it seemed-for her to come clean with the truth he told her long ago, and what he still told her frequently.

  "Perrin, I suppose I should tell you. The night of our first debate, I heard my father whisper in my ear and . . ."

  She sighed again, unsure of how he would respond to such an odd revelation.

  "He said the world is out to get me. Actually, I thought he was alluding to you at first," she gabbled on hurriedly, until Perrin's loud exhale interrupted her.

  "Will you believe him? And me?"

  Mahrree didn't expect that. She actually thought he'd begin inquiring about the state of her mental health. T
hat he so easily accepted that his father-in-law still communicated with her-

  Well, maybe he was willing to take any ally he could get tonight, even one that resided in Paradise.

  She got the impression that the someone on the sofa was grinning in appreciation before he faded away.

  "I'd really rather not believe either of you," she admitted. "I now realize why it's easier to just imagine the sky is always blue, no matter what you actually see."

  "But Mahrree," his tone became tender, almost pleading, "how will believing a lie save you from the truth?"

  "It can't," she sighed in reluctant agreement. "And I don't even need to look outside to see the color of the sky. It truly is black, and getting darker."

  "Yes, Mahrree. It is."

  "We could use a little blue," she decided.

  ---

  Lieutenant Heth had just returned to his quarters late that night, ending a disappointing evening because he was returning alone. What was the point of one's roommates being out all night if one can't take advantage of it? He was just unbuttoning his jacket when his door flew open.

  "Where is he?!" Chairman Mal barked.

  Heth stared at the unusual sight of the Chairman, his white hair disheveled and his red jacket untidy, yelling at him in the middle of the night. Heth glanced around. "Who, sir?"

  Mal slammed the door. "You know who-Dormin!"

  "I've told you sir, I don't know. He said-"

  "I've investigated every rubbish remover from here to the edges of the world!" Mal seethed. "No one matches his description, and now I need him more than ever."

  "Why? He's useless."

  "Not as useless as YOU!" Mal spat, turned, and left the room, shutting the door with a resounding thud.

  "And he's the greatest leader the world has ever seen?" Heth scoffed. "The world doesn't expect much of its leadership, does it. See?" he said with a smile of planning, "I could still be king."

  He withdrew his long knife from his waistband and gingerly caressed the thin, sharp blade.

  "Because I'm fairly certain the same methods to eliminate a Shin will also work on a Mal."

  ---

  Early in the morning of the 64th Day of Raining Season, 320, Tuma Hifadhi leaned on his cane to watch the young men as they filed before him. Behind the elderly man stood several middle-aged men, their arms folded, watching critically. Last week's failed raid in the forests above Edge brought everyone out in the snow sooner than they expected.

  Things were different now, and the time had come.

  Hifadhi evaluated the young men as they lined up in the field covered with new snow, the light of dawn just reaching them. Some of them were as large and strong as draft horses. Others were as quick and sneaky as coyotes. Still others were as quiet and subtle as deer. And each one of them was sharp, clever, and focused.

  These ten had been selected out of several dozen, and now each waited patiently for the next stage. The weeding process had been most thorough. Even one of Hifadhi's grandsons had been rejected, but it wasn't because of his size or ability; it was because he was married and a father. Whomever Tuma chose would lead a life very different than he had known, and he couldn't have any ties that might influence him to neglect his duty.

  Hifadhi smiled at the confident faces that tried to conceal their apprehension. Some were more successful than others. He looked up and down the line, his gaze pausing just a moment on one young man a little taller and a little broader than the others.

  Draft horse.

  Hifadhi tried not to say anything with his eyes, but he suspected the young man could read them anyway.

  He would be the one.

  While he had the largest and strongest body of the men, his face was as smooth as a twelve-year-old boy. Even though he was as powerful as a team of oxen, he looked as sweet as a lamb. Everything about his body was contrary to who he was.

  He was perfect, Tuma knew already. He was the sharpest and cleverest, with eyes that sparkled an innocent-and deceptive-sky blue.

  In a few weeks, he'd be the newest man in the fort at Edge.

  ###

  Acknowledgements . . .

  First, thank you for reading this, and for being charitable with the niggling errors that I fear still remain, hiding like crabgrass despite my continuous weeding. (Mahrree and I both have gardening issues.)

  My thanks next to my daughters: Tess (who's read the entire series-several versions of it-and realized we needed someone named Sonoforen), Alex, and Madison Pearce, who each gave me responses that ranged from, "I loved this part!" to "I hated this part!" (Can't beat children for honesty; it's against the law.)

  Thanks also to my friends and neighbors who willingly read drafts-sometimes more than once-and weren't afraid to tell me what they really thought (and they're still counted as friends, mostly): Marci Bingham, Stephanie Carver, David Jensen, Robbie Marquez, Cheryl Passey, Kim Pearce, Liz Reid, Liz Riding, Paula Snyder, Alison Wuthrich, and my sister Barbara Goff, whose constant nagging to "get this finished already!" has been motivating as only an older sister can motivate.

  Also thanks to Dr. Daniel Ames, who taught me track changes and that revising the same passage fifty times is perfectly acceptable, and to our neighborhood cop, Cory Thomas, for reviewing some of the fighting sequences to make sure they sounded plausible.

  I also appreciate the rest of my children for coping with my neglect (but I almost always remembered to make dinner). And thanks to my husband David who-after a cursory reading of the first book realized I wasn't spending hours each day writing something vampy, and that Perrin Shin bore a remarkable resemblance to him in both face and spirit-just shrugged when the house looked like nine tornados touched down, because he knew writing this made me oh so happy.

  About the author . . .

  Trish Strebel Mercer has been teaching writing, or editing graduate papers, or revising web content, or changing diapers since the early 1990's. She earned a BA in English from Brigham Young University and an MA in Composition Theory and Rhetoric from Utah State University. She and her husband David have nine children and have raised them in Utah, Idaho, Maryland, Virginia, and South Carolina. Currently they live in the rural west and dream of the day they will be old enough to be campground managers in Yellowstone National Park.

  Other titles:

  Soldier at the Door (Book 2)

  The Mansions of Idumea (Book 3)

  Falcon in the Barn (Book 4)

  Visit me at https://forestedgebooks.com

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TrishMercerAuthorandShopOwner

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/mercertrish9