Soldier at the Door (36 page)

Her mother reached over and grasped her hand. “He’ll get them, Mahrree! I have complete faith in our Perrin. You should too.”

Mahrree nodded her head and blinked back worried tears. She was the brave wife of the major, after all. She shouldn’t think of Perrin right now. Or their children, or of Shem. Or of anyone or anything else. It was no use. She was powerless to change anything, no matter how much she worried. She was stuck there. It would be worse than foolish to try to leave again alone. She felt chaos swirling throughout the village like a demented twister, and wondered how far it would travel before it died away.

She looked at the back door and suddenly knew what to do. It must be part of every woman’s constitution, because for generations women have done the same thing when faced with a crisis they were powerless to prevent or fight. Besides, it would give her an oppo
rtunity to look at the gardens for a blue uniform.

“Mother,” Mahrree said, “do you feel the need to
clean
something?”

Hycymum slapped the table. “Absolutely! Mrs. Arky, we’ll be at your house tidying up while you two rest here.”

-
--

Perrin surveyed the village green. The bonfire was burning well, bathing the Densals in heat and light as they shared a large blanket while huddled together on the grass. They weren’t the only ones there. A dozen or so more people shared the fire, bruises, and stories they related to the enforcement officers that took notes of what happened, with more villagers rushing over every minute.

A few paces away Staff Sergeant Gizzada, Perrin’s very round and normally jovial supply master, held out his sword tenuously. The former cook always kept it sheathed, and he continued to glance at it as if it would turn on him at any moment. His demeanor was exce
ptionally somber, and his dark skin paled to gray as if realized he was easily the largest target in the area. The acrobatics at the amphitheater ended early when it was realized the Guarders were attacking. Villagers who lived south of the green cautiously made their ways home in large groups for protection. But many who lived in the north decided to remain at the village green, and eagerly fled to the bonfire behind the rotund staff sergeant, feeling far more confidence in him and his trembling sword than he felt in himself.

Perrin noticed Gizzada frequently looking over at him, as if he took his bravery from the major who shouted orders to the soldiers that brought him reports. Perrin nodded back assurance to Gizzada, who seemed to grow braver once half a dozen soldiers came to help him guard the increasing mass of citizens, and his grip on his wea
pon became more secure.

The night was fully dark now and Perrin walked quickly over to two soldiers that rushed to the area. They were carrying a third.

“Major! The private took a knife wound to the side. But we killed the Guarder, sir! Sergeant Robi is staying with the family until someone can retrieve the body.”

“Excellent,” said Major Shin. “Bring the private over to the ot
her side. We’re setting up a section for the wounded by the second bonfire being started. We don’t need the citizens seeing more blood.”

As Major Shin escorted the soldiers over to the more secluded spot, one of the village doctors jogged to the green, his bag in hand. “I came as soon as Chief Curglaff notified me,” he panted. “I unde
rstand we can expect more coming in?”

Major Shin nodded. “My surgeon should be joining us soon. I think the private needs attention first, but then when you’re finished, please check on Rector Densal.”

The doctor nodded and went to work.

Another soldier ran out of the darkness and up to the major.

“Well?” Shin demanded.

The soldier shook his head reluctantly. “No sign, sir.”

“Are you sure?! Did you go to the right house?!”

“I’m sure, sir,” he shrank a little under the fury in Major Shin’s eyes.

The major looked around in the dark, his lips pressed together. He groaned and looked sharply again at the soldier.

The soldier anticipated his question. “The three soldiers
are
there, sir, dispatched by Lieutenant Karna. The children are safe but . . . there’s still no Mrs. Shin. It seems she
left
, sir. On her own.”

Perrin rubbed his forehead and nearly forgot his pledge to Hogal that he would never swear. He looked around again and didn’t see what he was looking for.

“Get three more soldiers. Go in pairs. The four of you don’t stop until you find her, even if it means checking every inch all the way to the forest, understand?!”

The soldier saluted and ran his fastest into the dark.

Perrin groaned. “Mahrree, what do you think you’re doing?!” 

---

When the small hours of the night arrived, the Arky gathering room looked almost as if nothing had happened. Once they got the sofa scrubbed clean, the women went to retrieve Mr. Arky. The neighborhood had been quiet for some time, so Mahrree felt confident that the second Guarder, if there had been one, was long gone.

Mr. Arky seemed to have more injury than
only to his arm and face, because as they stood him up he felt a sharp pain in his ribs and his leg refused to move properly. Mahrree and Mrs. Arky supported him between them, slowly walking him across the dark gardens to his house, while Hycymum made a bed for him on their sofa—easier than trying to get him upstairs to his bedroom.

Once they gently lay him down, Mrs. Arky pushed up her hu
sband’s trouser’s pant leg to discover an enormous bruise forming on his shin. Mr. Arky also had difficulty breathing, probably from cracked or broken ribs, but the idea of venturing into the night to find a doctor was unthinkable. Mrs. Arky bound her husband’s wounds as best she could and Hycymum gathered several pillows. Together the women found a way to try to keep Mr. Arky comfortable until dawn.

As Mr. Arky tried to rest, Mrs. Arky helped her friends sweep up glass, pick up books and scattered papers, stack broken objects carefully on the table to consider for repairing later, and discuss the most mundane things they could to keep from thinking about an
ything else. They speculated unemotionally about the substance used to blacken the man’s arms and face to hide himself in the shadows. They commented about the lack of quality in the vases that were cracked and broken, since they really should’ve stood up better. And they noted how much more work they seemed to get done in the middle of the night when there were no other distractions.

When the gathering room was put back together again, and the broken windows covered with old blankets, Mrs. Arky took invent
ory. Along with most of her silver forks and knives, she noticed that several small clay statues of pigs, covered in gold and accented with red clear stones for eyes, were missing.

“The Golden Ruby Herd,” sighed Hycymum sadly.

“They were always tacky,” Mrs. Arky declared. “My mother-in-law gave them to me, probably as a commentary on my family. I never liked her anyway.”

Next they began working on the kitchen floor and table, scru
bbing the wood to remove the drying blood that Mahrree tried to imagine wasn’t Shem’s. She also tried again to not think about her husband and what he might be doing right now, and to not think about her children whom she prayed every five minutes were still sound asleep and not needing her.

Her mind was positively full of things not to think about.

Suddenly Mahrree heard horses’ hooves. She froze and looked at her mother and Mrs. Arky.

They reflected her alarmed expression.

Mahrree stood tentatively and looked out the side window over to her mother’s house.

Two soldiers rushed to the front door of Hycymum Peto’s and knocked. “Mrs. Shin, are you there?” they called loudly.

Mrs. Peto and Mrs. Arky stared at Mahrree, unsure of how to respond.

“Mother, I need to go.” Mahrree bent over and kissed her mot
her on the cheek.

“Please be careful!” Hycymum said.

“And thank you.  And thank the soldiers,” added Mrs. Arky.

Mahrree quickly slipped through the back door, then opened it again.

“When will you women learn to lock these doors!?” She waited until she heard Mrs. Arky latch it.

She walked quickly through the identical gardens that used the same gardener. She strained in the darkness to see anything that looked like a body lying in the bushes or crushing the flowers. Se
eing nothing that was shaped as Shem Zenos, she trotted to the soldiers who were beginning to go to her mother’s back door. They looked at her, then at the house in confusion.

“Ma’am? Mrs. Shin? We thought this was your mother’s house,” one of them asked.

“Yes,” she answered, “but it wasn’t the one broken into tonight, was it?” She sounded far braver than she felt.

The soldiers exchanged relieved looks, then smiled. “The m
ajor’s been looking for you, ma’am. He demands that you be brought to him immediately.”

Tears filled her eyes. He was looking for
her
. 

Mahrree remembered the words of her mother-in-law: his duty is first to his village. She’d assumed she wouldn’t see or hear from him until it was all over, whenever that might be. She’d be the last he’d seek out, she was sure of it.

But she was wrong. She
was
part of the village, so he must be concerned about her as well. Yet she knew it was more than that. She
wasn’t last on his list.

She nodded at the soldiers in agreement, and as one of them helped her on the horse she realized just how exhausted and terrified she was. While the first soldier took his mount, the second soldier climbed up behind Mahrree and put his arm gingerly around her waist.

“It’s all right, soldier. You better hold me tighter. I’m not exactly a horse woman, and I’m a bit tired right now. The major will never forgive you if I fall off.”

The soldier seemed grateful for the permission. “Yes ma’am!” With a much firmer grip around her, he kicked the horse.

That’s when Mahrree remembered how much she hated riding. She would’ve complained about the jostling and the speed had she not also realized that the faster the horse moved, the sooner she could get off of it.

Within minutes they were in the center of Edge and fast a
pproaching the fields surrounding the amphitheater. Mahrree saw two large fires and many shadows walking or sitting around them. It was an exclusive campout that the northern part of the village was invited to, but there wasn’t any singing or laughing.

As the horses slowed to a trot, then stopped, Mahrree surveyed the crowd, looking for Perrin. She didn’t immediately see him, but she recognized many of her neighbors and friends in the firelight. All of them wore expressions similar to the
Arkys.

Stunned. Frightened. Angry. Weary.

And eerily quiet.

Mahrree initially thought maybe there’d be howling and shouts and loud sobbing, but every face she saw appeared too drained or simply too shocked to do much more than sit and breathe and maybe weep.

Women sat on logs next to the fire crying softly, and some held their sleepy children close to them. Men stood in small groups near their wives and spoke to each other earnestly in low voices. Beyond the first fire was a second, where several people lay on the flattened grasses and were attended to by doctors. Surrounding it all were a dozen soldiers, swords drawn, joined by several enforcement officers holding long knives, likely borrowed from the soldiers.

Even gentle, lumbering Gizzada wore an imposing look of rea
diness as he pointed his sword and waited for something more aggravating than an overcooked steak sandwich.

The soldier released his grip on Mahrree, slid off the horse, then helped her down. She could barely stand. So many people! More than two hundred, which must have meant there were more than fourteen Guarders this time. Mahrree sickened at the thought.

Several people looked her way and gave her weak smiles or nods.

From the corner of her eye she saw someone approaching her from the shadows of the trees, silhouetted against the second fire. The massive figure moved swiftly and menacingly. She recognized the gait and almost dreaded turning to him. As much as she wanted to see him, she didn’t want to see him like
this
.

Perrin grabbed her arm and spun her roughly to face him.
“Where did you go? And why are
you
issuing commands to
my
soldiers?”

Mahrree bit her lower lip and tried to contain her own frustr
ation as she looked up into his angry face.

“Major Shin,” sang a shaky voice from the fire that cut through the darkness. “You know you thank the Creator she’s well. Why don’t you give her a hug and a kiss? Make an old man happy?”

Several people laughed softly, grateful for an excuse to do so.

Mahrree glanced towards the fire and saw the Densals sitting huddled together. He heart ached at the sight of them. Hogal was bruised and Tabbit held a cloth to his face, but he nodded encoura
gingly at Mahrree.