Soldier at the Door (37 page)

She looked at her husband’s eyes and recognized the worry u
nder his anger.

“The children are all right, aren’t they? They have three soldiers still, right?” she asked timidly.

“Yes!” he said crossly. Then his face softened slightly and he sighed. “But from what I’ve heard, I don’t think Private Aims will recover too quickly, being forced into
baby tending
.”

A smile was trying to form around his lips, but he killed it. He took her by the shoulders.

“Don’t you ever,
ever
do that again! We’ve discussed what to do. We’ve practiced it. You secure the house, and you
stay!
”

He’d forgotten he had an audience until he heard his great uncle say sharply, “Perrin!” His soft gentleness was gone, as was his p
atience with his nephew.

Startled, Mahrree didn’t dare peek to see the expression on Re
ctor Densal’s face that matched his reprimand.

Without taking his eyes off his wife, Major Shin raised his voice. “Tabbit, can’t you do anything about your husband?”

“I’m afraid not,” she replied feebly. “You best make him happy, Perrin.”

Perrin glanced at his relatives then looked back at his wife who was doing her best to look apologetic.

Mahrree saw a familiar spark in his eye, dimly.

He turned her roughly again, this time positioning himself b
etween her and the villagers.

“Just to make the old man happy,” he said, “but he doesn’t get to watch.” He kissed her quickly and gave her a hug so tight that he
squeezed tears from her eyes. “Don’t make me have to worry about you like that again!” he said in her ear.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” she whispered, grateful to feel his arms around her. One storm passed, she thought briefly, while a
nother still raged.

“Ahh, that’s much better!” Hogal’s cheerful voice came to them again from the fire.

A few chuckles accompanied him.

Perrin and Mahrree pulled apart to hear the rector say, “And that, my friends, is how they
should
have ended that nasty second debate of theirs—in each other’s arms! Well, as they say, best now than never was. Now, Tabbit, I can die a happy man.”

Perrin turned and glared at him, but gave him a quick wink. Mahrree giggled nervously and sent a look of thanks to Hogal.

He nodded back briefly, waggled his eyebrows, then winced slightly as the motion reminded him of the bruises spreading on his face.

Tabbit immediately placed the damp cloth on his cheek again.

Perrin turned to Mahrree with a completely different face. Major Shin was back on duty. “Can you help?”

Mahrree shook the exhausted fog out of her head. “Yes, yes. What do you need?”

“Help with the wounded.”

He led her to the other side of the second fire where close to twenty people lay on fort-issued blankets. Two men, with numerous gashes and cuts, were trying unsuccessfully to rest on the ground, while their wives received instructions from one of the village do
ctors on how to treat their wounds. An older man cradled his adult daughter’s head as the fort’s surgeon gently pressed around her belly, and she cringed in pain. A child with extensive bruises huddled quietly in his mother’s arms, sniffling as she stroked his hair, and several soldiers lay side by side, with a variety of body parts wrapped and splinted.

Further in the distance, beyond the glow of the fire, were three bodies covered completely.

“Oh Perrin,” she stopped in her tracks when she saw them. “Who?”

“Guarders,” he said coolly. “And, so you don’t have to ask me later, two by my hand. One was at Tabbit and Hogal’s, the other was
here trying to get into the trees. Fortunately for me he was a poor climber for someone raised in the forests.”

Mahrree hadn’t looked at his clothes yet, but in the flickering bonfire she could see splashed evidence of what Perrin had done. The first thing her weary brain thought was, That new jacket’s going to need a lot of soaking—

“Over here,” he pulled her away. “This one needs your special attention.”

Mahrree stopped suddenly at the quiet body lying at her feet, and she whimpered softly as she gazed upon the almost-unrecognizable face of Corporal Shem Zenos.

The fort surgeon joined them. In his blunt way he said, “Mrs. Shin—obviously found to be safe. Good. Corporal Zenos here suffered severe head trauma, not sure how. Soldiers found him stumbling aimlessly a few roads away from here.”

“I know how he got hurt,” Mahrree whispered.

Perrin looked at her quizzically.

“In the
Arkys’ house. He was fighting the Guarder. Shem’s head was  . . .”

Mahrree couldn’t use the same words Mr. Arky had.

“—into the table. The corner of it. I was about to clean the table when you sent for me.”

Perrin nodded in understanding.

The surgeon nodded too. “That’s consistent with the trauma. Mrs. Shin, stay with him and watch him closely. Change his bandages, monitor his bleeding, keep a finger on his pulse. Tell me when he gets worse—labored breathing or slowing heart rate. Talk to him. Let me know if he regains consciousness. Major, looks like we have more coming in.” The surgeon jogged away into the darkness.

Mahrree gulped hard at the words “
when
he gets worse . . .
if
he regains consciousness.”

She knelt down and peeled back the cloth to more clearly see the swelling on Shem’s head. She was grateful the lighting was so bad.

Perrin squeezed her shoulder then strode away after the surgeon.

She vaguely heard him shouting to another group of soldiers that rode into the camp. Something else was happening, but Mahrree had no more energy to worry about it. She could think only of Shem. She took new bandages and carefully laid them on the bulge on his
forehead that slowly oozed.

“Shem, Shem,” she whispered. “You look terrible. What ha
ppened to you?” Her lip quivered. The more she thought about his misshapen forehead, the more she realized how serious his condition was.

“Shem, you can’t go now! I haven’t found you a wife yet. I promised you.”

She quit fighting the tears and let them fall on his bruised face. She guiltily wiped them off with the hem of her cloak then wondered what else she could do. For as close as he was to them, she knew very little about him. She’d asked him a few times about his family, but all he said was that he had an older sister and two nieces. His mother had passed away when he was young, but he still had a father. He said he didn’t like to talk about them much because then he missed them more. Mahrree prayed they were safe. Then she prayed for Shem, and wondered how she could contact his family if . . .

No.

She wouldn’t
let
it happen. Not if the Creator would let him stay.

She sat down more comfortably in the dirt. The surgeon said talk to him, she reminded herself. She searched for the right words. None came, but she had to say
something.

“Shem! My children still need an uncle,” she whispered earnes
tly. “Their only grandfather sees them only twice a year, and even then he doesn’t hold them because he says his medals will scratch their faces.” She chuckled sadly. “I
need
you!”

She thought she saw the corner of his mouth twitch slightly. 

Encouraged, she tried some more. Leaning closer she said, “Shem, they need an uncle to tie up! We need to train you for your own family. Don’t you dare go, you hear me? What would I say to your father? I’ve never even met him.”

She watched the edge of his mouth closely.

Nothing.

She sighed and leaned against a log that stood nearby. She had no idea what to do next. “Ah, Shem. Please, don’t leave us. I do
n’t have much confidence in Aims. He’d be a terrible replacement.” She sniffed and sighed again. “Shem, who am I kidding? No one could replace you.”

She took up his still hand and was comforted that it felt warm.
She slid a finger over to his wrist to feel his pulse. Still there. She noticed Perrin watching her from across the fire and she shook her head.

He gave her a quick nod, then turned back to discuss something with the chief of enforcement.

She searched for things to say, but felt silly talking out loud. But then again, no one else was near enough to hear.

“He has plans for you, Zenos. When your two years are up, he wants you to reenlist, long-term. He needs you, too. The major thinks you have great potential, Zenos!” She watched his mouth.

Nothing.

She exhaled. She knew what she wanted to say, but hesitated. She looked at the bulge on his head, then closed her eyes. She’d a
lways regret not telling him if she didn’t do it now, if it became too late. She took a deep breath and squeezed his hand.

“Shem, I want you to know, you’re like . . . you’re like the younger brother neither of us had. We both feel it. We didn’t even know we needed a brother until you came along. Not
merely because we use you as a baby tender,” she chuckled sadly, “but because you
fit
with us. I think Perrin sends us messages just to see you and give you a reason to visit the children and me. Last week, when you came by at dinner with that message from the fort and finally agreed to stay to eat with us, it felt so natural. You feel like family, Shem.
Our
family.”

Mahrree looked around, feeling embarrassed to have revealed so much out loud. No one was around that was conscious enough to hear her. She looked at Shem’s face.

Still nothing.

She squeezed his hand again. “Now, for your family, Shem Zenos, open your eyes. Let me know you’re all right then we can both sleep a while.”

She paused.

“As an annoying older sister, I
demand
you give me a sign you are in there. Call me Mahrree, and I’ll let you sleep!”

Nothing.

“All right, as the
wife of your major
, I insist . . .”

She gave up.

“Oh Shem.” She rubbed his hand absent-mindedly and wondered what a big sister would do to take the dried blood off it. She didn’t want to leave his side, even for a moment, to get a wet cloth from the surgeon’s aid. She smiled as an idea came to her.

“Did I ever tell you about our last debate and what Rector Densal did to us? Since you can’t interrupt or protest, you’re going to hear about it. He started off by getting suggestions from the chi
ldren for debates, or so he
said
. . .”

For the next hour and a half Mahrree talked to the still figure of Shem, telling him in detail about the topics Hogal had lined up for them, including the suggestion that they debate about continuing the debates as husband and wife.

She ignored the arrival of additional wounded and dead Guarders. It was only when Perrin stood over her that she looked up. Behind him the coming dawn lightened the sky. Mahrree saw soldiers walking behind him carrying another wrapped body.

“Mahrree,” Perrin’s voice was heavy. “That Guarder body they’re bringing in was just taken at our house. The soldier at our front door was wounded. We were fortunate that two passing so
ldiers brought down the Guarder, or else. . .” He shook his head not wanting to finish the sentence.

“Perrin,” Mahrree gasped. “Our babies!” She struggled to her feet, barely remembering to place Shem’s hand back carefully on the ground.

“They’re still safe,” he said, taking her in his arms and kissing her quickly on her forehead. “But the corporal here will take you home.”

For once Mahrree wished a horse could have travelled faster. She didn’t even wait for the corporal to help her off as they stopped in front of her house. She fell gracelessly on the cobblestones and scrambled to her front door. Mrs. Hersh was already in the yard tr
ying vainly to sweep the blood off the weedy dirt.

The soldier at the door saluted when he saw her. “Ma’am, no one’s gone in or out.”

“I know. Well done, Private!” She walked up to the door and tried to open it. “Aims!” she shouted. “It’s all right! Let me in. I relieve you of duty.”

She heard footsteps come down the stairs and a moment later the door was unlatched and the iron bars shifted.

Private Aims opened the door, his sword still at the ready. “All is quiet, ma’am. Has been all night. And I thank you for helping me realize that I’m not yet ready to marry or be a father.” Then he marched out smartly.

Mahrree rushed up the stairs and quietly entered her bedroom. Her two children continued to sleep peacefully, sprawled on the large bed. Mahrree sighed a prayer of gratitude and crawled into bed between them. She wrapped an arm around each little body and fell into a gloriously deep sleep.

-
--