Soldier at the Door (32 page)

“That’s not going to work, woman. I need to concentrate.”

“All right, DRIPS.” She kissed him on the lips.

He didn’t accomplish a great deal that night, but he had a few ideas.

In the morning he found a note next to his plate. “Dogs Ruin Important Papers, Sir,” along with the wet remains of Mahrree’s ‘immediate’ note that it seemed didn’t agree with Barker’s stomach.

That afternoon, when he retrieved his midday meal from his tin, he found another note. “Don’t Run In Peto’s Shorts.”

“Cute, Mahrree,” he mumbled, “and not too helpful.” He crumpled it up for the fire.

At dinner he found, “Dinner’s Ready—It’s Pork Sandwiches,” and on his desk that evening when he went back to work he saw, “Daughter’s Rambunctious in Playing Soldier.”

The next morning he saw another message at the table. This one he smiled at, folded carefully, and later put in his quill drawer at the fort.

“Debate Results;
Im-Prove Sanity.”

That night he announced to her, “Phase One of The Plan will begin next week on my day off, to kick off Weeding Season.”

“I hope it’s more engaging than its name,” she said.

He grumbled at her. “You want to help, right?”

“Right!”

“Then we’ll begin by visiting every family we know in the co
ngregation, assuring them I’m still the man they know and lov—, well, they
know.
I thought that if you, me, the children, and Barker took a few long walks, chatting to people, letting them see me,
not
in uniform
, with my family, that they might . . .” He bobbed his head back and forth.

“Realize you’re still the same large commander of the fort that they’ve always known and who’s killed a dozen men?”

“Y—es,” he said slowly.

“Great idea!” she beamed at him. “What’s phase two?”

“Depends upon the success of phase one.”

A couple of days later, with Edge still on high alert whenever they saw the new major, he set out for an all-day leisurely stroll around the northern half of the village with his wife, his children in a small wagon, and his massive black, drooling dog harnessed to pull it. Wearing a brown shirt, beige trousers, and as genuine a smile as he could muster, Perrin Shin and his family stopped and chatted with wary neighbors in their gardens or farms, all in the attempt to demonstrate that the Shin family was not to be feared.

Hogal and Tabbit did their best as well to spread the word in their neighborhood, but along Hycymum’s road, pretending to be sociable was much more difficult. For some reason, none of Hycymum’s neighbors would say more than two words to them, until they discovered why from the Arkys.

“Don’t worry, Major,” Mr. Arky winked at him as the Shins walked up to his fence. “I believe Hycymum
, that you aren’t a spy for the Administrators.”

Perrin’s eyebrows flew upwards. “She said
what?
”

“That no matter what anyone said, you really weren’t a spy. At least, you wouldn’t be a very good one, since you hadn’t been by to get any good gossip off of her yet.”

Mahrree gripped his arm in a futile gesture of calming.

“Mahrree . . .” Perrin growled.

“I’m on it!” she promised, and jogged next door to her mother’s house where her sewing ladies were just arriving. Their nervous glances fell frequently on the major who stood glaring at his mother-in-law’s house, his arms folded and his stance tense.

Several minutes later Mahrree came out and over to her husband and family. “She’s agreed to not try to help us anymore, but only if you’ll come over to her club meeting and sample her new
ee-clares in front of all her ladies—”

Mr. Arky chuckled as Perrin groaned.

“
Mahrree
. . .”

“And tell her friends how
much
you like them.” She squinted meaningfully.

He had to admit later they were rather tasty, even though the women giggled at him when cream filling dribbled down his chin in an undignified manner.

“
Undignified
is precisely what they needed to see,” Mahrree assured him as they walked home that warm afternoon, the children lying on top of each other and dozing in the wagon. “You were much more a long-suffering son-in-law than a fearsome commander. That goes a long way with the gray hairs.”

“Hopefully it goes all the way through the rest of the village,” he sighed.

“Give it a few weeks,” she said, hugging his arm. “Let Edge talk amongst themselves as they weed this season. People love to gossip when they’re hands and knees in the dirt. Let’s see what stories grow and then go on from there.”

“Stories,” Perrin whispered as if it was a disgusting word.

“Yes, people
believe
stories. They
like
stories, much more than they like facts,” Mahrree insisted. “And today the story is, Perrin Shin is a devastatingly handsome man with an utterly charming wife, two adorable children, a hideous dog, and he is—best of all—nice to his mother-in-law. You’re golden.”

“The whole village doesn’t see me the same way you do.” He smiled.

“Right there!
That
smile. Get rid of that stiff, fake one and let others see that one.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t need that kind of compet
ition, my wife.”

She laughed.

His smile faded. “You’re right about stories, Mahrree. But too often they twist the wrong way. Nothing even has to change—and actually, nothing
has
—but everyone
perceives
there’s been a change, and their imaginations create far worse ‘facts’ as to what that means. They could just as easily assume that Perrin Shin is a devious man who uses his family to make a good impression. Then, when the people trust him again, he sweeps in with his army and takes over the village! Just like the army did when they rebelled against King Querul the Second.”

Mahrree exhaled. “I don’t think people know history well enough to remember that happened. And it was only for several moons that the army and the king sparred against each other. There
wasn’t even that much bloodshed, only a lot of posturing and assuming and insinuations—”

“Just like now,” he said dully.

She groaned. “Can’t think like that. Keep smiling. And waving.” She demonstrated by waving to a couple of girls walking a cow along the side of the road opposite of them.

They smiled timidly at Mahrree.

She elbowed her husband. “I said smile, soldier!” she hissed.

He attempted a sort-of-handsome-but-trying-too-hard-so-it-was-actually-creepy grin and waved reluctantly.

The girls broke into a nervous jog, dragging the complaining cow behind them.

---

Lieutenant Heth marched smartly up the wide white stone stairs into the Administrative Headquarters, nodding to the pages in short red jackets who held open the doors.

Another Command School student was marching out at the same time, slightly pale. His bi-annual interview with Chairman Mal must not have gone as well as he hoped.

Heth smirked and continued on down to the Chairman’s office, and was soon ushered in.

“Sit, Heth,” Mal said simply as he perused a document in his hands. “You know which chair.”

“Yes, sir,” Heth said, taking a seat directly in front of Mal’s large desk. He waited, sitting at attention. Part of the interview was the waiting. Mal liked to see how long it took a young man to squirm.

“I’m looking at your marks here,” Mal said after several minutes.

“May I explain, sir?” Heth licked his lips. “You see—”

Mal looked up at him. “Did I give you permission?”

Heth gulped. First failure, already. He shook his head. “No, sir.”

“Truly surprising,” the Chairman said slowly rereading the page. “Well, then, I suppose all that’s left to say is, Congratulations on graduating early.”

Heth was stunned silent, his eyebrows furrowing. “Uh, but sir, my marks—”

Mal tossed the page into the fire.

Heth had wondered why Mal had a fire burning on his hearth on one of the hottest days of the year.

“Oh, dear,” Mal said plainly. “Well, I knew the numbers on that. Lieutenant Heth, you will retrieve your things from the dorm
itories and move into your new room tonight.”

Heth dared to smile. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir! Who do I report to at the garrison?”

“Not the garrison,” Mal smiled thinly. “My mansion.”

Heth couldn’t have prevented his eyebrows from shooting u
pwards even if both hands were holding them down. “The mansion, sir?”

“Been a few years since you’ve been there, hasn’t it,
Sonoforen?
Thought you might enjoy staying there again.”

“I would, sir, I would! My father had a guest room for me—”

“Which has remained untouched, I assure you. A bit of cleaning, but otherwise . . .”

Heth grinned fully now. “Dormin will be so jealous—”

“Where is he?” Mal said, his cutting tone suddenly so frosty it nearly extinguished the fire.

“I still don’t know,” Heth admitted. “Haven’t heard anything from him. But if I do, you’ll be the first to know.”

Mal nodded once. “Now, you understand I’m not letting you stay at the mansion as a reward, but so that I can train you more fully.”

“Oh. Yes. Of course, sir.” He licked his lips again. “Does this mean the time is getting ripe?”

“There’s something being planned right now, yes. But that’s not what I want you for. Twice already my testing of a certain general’s son has produced unsatisfactory results. Despite all my efforts, there’s a slim chance there will be a third failure, so that’s why you’ll be in place for the fourth attempt. You’ll be my fail-safe.”

             
Heth smiled formally. “Thank you, sir. I look forward to serving you
and the general
in any ways that I can.”

“Well said,” Mal nodded. “Now, I want you to keep very quiet and to yourself. Now more than ever it’s essential that we keep your identity unknown. No one in my mansion has ever seen you before, and it will be known that I have selected you, along with another new officer, as additional guards because I’m feeling insecure about
my safety.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Good. Now, when you arrive at the mansion, I’ll have someone waiting who will prepare you for the next situation.”

“Yes, sir. How will I recognize him, sir?”

“Everyone can recognize Gadiman, Heth. Ever seen a nauseated weasel?”

---

“So,” Perrin said with the weight of boulders as he trudged into the kitchen for dinner. “Heard any new stories today?”

Mahrree bit her lip. “Unfortunately yes,” she sighed. “What
is it
with these people? Did you know that the commander in Winds has supposedly stationed soldiers at every intersection? And in Coast, anyone coming to see the waves at the shore has to sign a form first? And no one knows why, but
soldiers
are holding the forms!”

Perrin groaned and slumped down on a chair in the kitchen. “I know why those things are happening, but what’s the rumor in Edge?”

“The soldiers are plotting,” Mahrree said mysteriously, “And no one knows what, but it’s creeping to Edge, just you wait and see! That major is plotting something!” She rolled her eyes. “Edgers are the most suspicious people in the world.”

He shrugged. “Sounds like people in Winds and Coast are su
spicious, too.”

“So, what are the facts?”

“Not nearly as interesting as the stories. Except for maybe Coast,” he added thoughtfully. “You see, some visitors there a few weeks ago were actually wading in the water—”

“They went
in?
” Mahrree was aghast.

Even the bravest fishermen never waded in the salt water if they could avoid it. What dangers it held, no one knew. It was no wonder that the Guarders that tried to attack by sea several moons ago drowned in it.

Perrin nodded soberly. “Then the strangest thing happened. These huge fish, larger than people, came right up to them. Had these tall fins on their backs and blew air out of a hole on top of their heads. They even seemed to be trying to communicate, making these squeaking sounds.”

“Did the people die?” she asked breathlessly.

“No, they ran right out of there. The giant fish swam off, a few even leaping in the air, as if patrolling the waters to make sure no people go in. So yes, there are a few soldiers posted there to watch for any more incidents, and to warn people. Several visitors have even given their names and home villages to the soldiers in case something happens to them and a giant fish rushes out of the water and eats them or something.”