Soldier at the Door (17 page)

The thought had never occurred to Mahrree. True, her life was completely different now. And she didn’t participate in anything ou
tside of the house. And she hadn’t thought about the condition of her hair in nearly two years. Or the condition of her clothes. Or her house. Or garden.

But caring for these little children, who she thought were funny more often than frustrating, loving more often than loud, was an honor. It said so in The Writings, and she’d chosen to believe it from the moment she knew she was expecting her firstborn. And choosing to believe it had made all the difference in her attitude as a mother.

Were they difficult? Yes.

Demanding?

For some reason that word just didn’t seem right. It suggested that she and Perrin hadn’t invited them to be part of their family. An infestation of roaches suddenly filled her mind.

Mrs. Hili shook her head gently at Mahrree’s mystified face. “You
really
need to get out once in a while. Captain!” she called past Mahrree. “Find someone to stay with your children one evening, and take this poor thing out to see the world.”

Perrin poked his head out the kitchen door. In his arms was Jaytsy, squirming to put back on the clothes Perrin was trying to take off. “Are you volunteering?” he asked with a wicked smile.

Mahrree knew he would never want Mrs. Hili watching his children, but he was never one to pass up an opportunity to tease an unsuspecting citizen. Mahrree sighed to herself.

It was useless to ask her mother to watch the children. Hycymum was the kind of woman who loved the
idea
of children, but struggled to know how to deal with the actual manifestations. She lavished clothing and gifts on them, but she couldn’t stand their noise, energy, constant demands, sticky parts, and wet patches.

Their great-great-aunt loved them too, but Tabbit was slowing down considerably to the point that Peto could now out-crawl her.

When Joriana had visited at the end of Weeding Season for a few weeks, Perrin and Mahrree actually escaped a few times to the concerts. Mahrree enjoyed getting out, albeit for only an hour at a time because she worried about her babies, but now with her mother-in-law gone there was no else they trusted.

Perrin certainly didn’t trust Mrs. Hili, but Mahrree knew he was looking forward to her reaction.

She turned almost as red as the burgundy stripes on her dress. “Gracious, no!” she flustered and fanned herself despite the cold outside.

Perrin smiled in satisfaction.

“I have too many things to do,” she tried to explain. “But certainly you can find someone to help poor Miss Mahrree. Now, I really must go. The performance will have started.”

Mahrree stood at the door for a few moments watching Poe’s mother glide down the cobblestones in a hurry. She wondered what Poe was doing now. And where was his father?

From the kitchen she heard the sounds of Jaytsy in the large washing basin, splashing and giggling. For all the fussing she did before it, the moment Jaytsy’s toes hit the warm water she loved her baths. It was as if she forgot each day that baths were a favorite activity. Getting her out again would be yet another battle, one that Perrin was well suited for.

Mahrree glanced down at her dress, faded in parts, mucked up by a variety of smudges and smears. True, it was her daily work dress, so it should look like this. She did have a few others, and one was even in good condition. She wondered if she really
was
missing something, spending every day and night with her babies.

Yes, there were days she was frustrated to tears by the never-ending messes and crying. But she also knew that the never-ending
would
end, sooner than she would want. Despite it all, she found herself fascinated by her remarkable children. As they discovered the world, she felt she was seeing it new herself.

Take, for instance, just this morning. Mahrree realized to her chagrin that she hadn’t swept under the sofa since before Peto was born, nearly seven moons ago. So while her babies were unraveling balls of yarn from their Grandmother Peto, Mahrree bravely slid over the sofa and braced for the worst.

It was a practical warren of dust bunnies. She quickly swept it together, but not before Jaytsy toddled over, crouched, and
oohed!
at the pile of dust, soot, and—

Mahrree peered closer, suddenly panicked—

No, no that
was
only a clump of black Barker fur.

In his odd crawling technique, Peto
skooched himself over to stare in wonder at the pile, and Mahrree realized it actually was a fascinating sight. She watched her budding little scientists stare in rapt interest and tried to remember where her notes on the moldy blob were. In a couple of years, Jaytsy and Peto would undoubtedly find that a most enthralling experiment.

Then, the children reached simultaneously for the pile of black dust, their mouths already opened for a taste—

And Mahrree briskly swept up the mess before anyone choked on Barker fur. Perhaps regrowing the blob should wait for at least ten more years . . .

And that was yet another thing that intrigued her. Why was it that her babies were so eager to taste anything, except the food she
cooked for them? Yet another amusing mystery to ponder.

Oh yes, being their mother was, by far, the most difficult work she’d ever undertaken.

And it also was, by far, the most satisfying.

At the end of the day, she
knew
she’d accomplished an enormous amount of work, even if the house looked as messy as it had in the morning. At this point of her life, messy meant success. Things
happened.

To look forward to the day she no longer found surprises in Jaytsy’s changing
cloths or when Peto no longer spewed half of his meals? The thought already made her sad. It was such a short time. Only a few years . . .

She didn’t notice the blue uniform standing directly in front of her in the open doorway.

The soldier looked at her worriedly and knocked lightly on the door frame. “Mrs. Shin? Are you all right?”

Mahrree’s head snapped up and she found herself face to face with Private Shem Zenos. She shook her head a little. “Oh, oh, yes. I’m sorry—just a little lost, I suppose.”

Private Zenos took her by the arm and turned her gently back into her house.

“I think I understand, Mrs. Shin. They call it sleep deprivation. It was a form of warfare used during the Great War, back home near Waves.” He closed the front door behind him as he explained. “Vi
llagers from Waves would capture female cats that were in season—” he blushed briefly, “secure them in baskets, then hide them around the village of Flax after nightfall. Naturally, the male cats would come seeking them and start caterwauling in desperation to find their new loves. The residents spent most of the night trying to shut up the cats and find the females. By morning they were exhausted and that’s when Waves attacked them.”

Mahrree, now fully out of her daydream, folded her arms. “Cat warfare?” she said dubiously.

“Absolutely,” Zenos said solemnly. “I understand it was suggested by a man who was father to triplets. Meowaaaaah!” he demonstrated a mix between meowing and crying.

Mahrree looked at him in disbelief until she couldn’t hold it in anymore, and she laughed.

“How do you keep such a straight face? I never know when to believe you! If there was a contest for lying, Zenos, you’d take first prize! What are you doing here this evening? Come, sit down.”

He didn’t sit, but stood at ease in the gathering room, his happy sky blue eyes twinkling at her. “Thank you, ma’am, but I was wo
ndering if I could have a moment with the captain. I’m sorry to have come so late to your home, but—”

“It’s not a problem, Private. And it’s not late. But you’ll have to wait your turn. He’s already busy in the other room with a female, and I strongly suspect she’s
undressed
,” Mahrree said gravely.

The private’s eyes flashed in shock and his mouth began to open.

Mahrree winked at him.

Perrin called loudly from the kitchen, “I’m just giving Jaytsy a bath. Don’t listen to her, Zenos! Haven’t I told you that before?”

The private broke into a wide grin and said, “Yes, sir! That’s why I keep finding excuses to come here. It reminds me of home.”

Mahrree laughed. Private Zenos was not only Perrin’s favorite soldier, but hers too. If ever she had a little brother, she imagined he would have been exactly like Zenos.

Perrin emerged from the kitchen with Jaytsy wrapped in a thick cloth. His tan shirt was nearly as wet as her wild hair. “And cat warfare? While I’d like to believe that, since I hate cats, I have to tell you—I never read about that in any of the history books, Zenos.”

“The best things never are remembered, sir,” Zenos declared earnestly.

Perrin chuckled. “I suspect that’s true. Peto’s turn for a bath,” he said to Mahrree. “There’s still a corner of the basin clean enough for him.”

On cue Peto began to roll from his playing area. Mahrree caught him and walked with him towards the kitchen.

“Mahrree, where are Jaytsy’s bed clothes?” Perrin called to her.

Mahrree stopped. “Oh, I forgot. They must still be upstairs on our bed.”

Private Zenos held out his arms to Mahrree. “I’ve been meaning to ask for a while, and now seems the right time:  Can I hold Peto while you find the clothes?”

Mahrree’s eyebrows rose at his offer. Maybe it was because he was from the southernmost areas, but Private Zenos was so unlike the men of the village. The last several weeks he had been happily
serving as their messenger demonstrated that.

He always first delivered Perrin’s message, then added an ou
tlandish story or joke to make Mahrree laugh. She looked forward to his visits, and if Perrin hadn’t sent a message for three or four days, she told him in the morning he needed to, because she thought of something new to say to the young private to tease or embarrass him. Half of the time she succeeded. The other half he would startle her instead. He must be always thinking up ways to get her back, just as she planned on ways to get him first.

Whenever he dropped by, the children usually stopped whatever they were doing when they heard his voice and hooted eagerly at him. Zenos always took a moment to tickle Jaytsy or make faces at Peto.

And now Zenos was offering to hold Peto. Mahrree had met only one other baby-snatching man in her life: her husband. Now there seemed to be another in the world, and he was only twenty years old.

Mahrree said to Perrin a couple of weeks ago that she thought Zenos was the sweetest soldier she had ever met.

Perrin had glared at that and said to never,
ever
call a soldier “sweet” again.

Or adorable.

Mahrree evaluated the sincerity of Zenos’s offer. His blue eyes were completely honest. “Peto’s a little sticky,” she warned him.

“That’s how babies should be, ma’am.” Zenos smiled and took Peto confidently.

Peto stared at him with big eyes and reached up to grab his nose.

Perrin looked at Mahrree. “Better run and get the clothes before Peto claws his face. We don’t want to ruin a good thing here.”

Mahrree nodded and went upstairs leaving Perrin to watch his young recruit who sat down on a chair and easily bounced laughter out of his son. She soon came down the stairs in time to see Zenos tipping Peto upside down and flipping him back up again. Alarmed she asked, “Is that safe?”

“None of the babies in our family have had permanent damage yet, ma’am!” he assured her and flipped Peto yet again, to his gi
ggling delight.

Perrin held his gaze for a moment, then sat down on the stuffed chair near the hearth and started to put a changing cloth on Jaytsy by
the warmth of the fire.

“Perrin!” Mahrree exclaimed. “Not in front of the private!”

The soldier grinned. “I promise I won’t peek, Mrs. Shin. But it’s really nothing new to me. I have a sister who has two little girls, and I was always the one who stayed with them and even changed their cloths when she needed to go to the market. They loved their Uncle Shem.” He nuzzled Peto’s neck as only someone who was completely comfortable with babies knew how to do. “Yes they did!” he crooned as Peto giggled and grabbed clumps of his short light brown hair in his chubby fists.

Mahrree stared. Even in Hycymum’s most relaxed moments she would only drop cookies on their heads from above.

But, Mahrree thought, wild ideas running in her mind, he’s a
young man
. Why would a young man agree to . . . ?

She continued to stare at him.

Zenos didn’t notice—his face was buried in Peto’s neck, making a bubbling noise which made Peto howl uncontrollably with laughter.

It would make sense, really. Should anything happen while they were away, having someone who knew how to handle a sword would be the best choice for defending the captain’s children.

But
still
, Mahrree thought.