Soldier at the Door (38 page)

Three hours later, with the sun climbing the morning sky, a bleary-eyed mother and her two happily awake toddlers secured in a wagon made their way through the quiet yet surprisingly busy roads. People stood in small huddles of discussion all along the way. No one, it seemed, had slept in Edge, and it showed in their haggard faces.

Two soldiers accompanied the little family outing to the village green, and stood guard once the mother nodded her thanks to them. The bonfires had died away, but half the village was now there, gi
ving reports to enforcement officers and Lieutenant Karna, who had come down from the fort.

Mahrree knew this wasn’t the best place to bring her family, but she suspected Perrin would feel better seeing that his children were safe. Edgers comforted their friends and neighbors, fashioned ways to carry the wounded back to their homes, and—she noticed with no small sense of pride—looked at the major with immense respect.

As she made her way slowly through the quiet crowd to the make-shift command center, several people stopped her for a hug and patted her children’s heads. For as terrible as the night had been, many seemed to realize that it could have been far worse. She picked up snatches of conversations as she passed.

“The soldiers were right there—the Guarder couldn’t do much but fight them.”

“It seems there were at least twenty of them.”

“
Only in the first group! I heard that one scout saw them come running out of the woods west of here and was immediately on their trail. Without him, who knows . . .”

“I have to admit, my faith in the Administrators just increased. They really knew what they were talking about.”

When Mahrree heard that her stomach churned unexpectedly.

Sometimes, it all seemed so
convenient
.

She shook the thought out of her head, too weary to think.

There was a clearing between the villagers and a small group of people which consisted of the magistrate, Perrin, and the two other rectors and their wives, all in deep conversation. The women had lists and Mahrree suspected more cleaning details were being formed.

She glanced over to the wounded. All of the soldiers were still lying on the ground, but wagons were approaching to convey them back to the fort. She heard familiar footsteps behind her, and they weren’t nearly as angry as a few hours before.

“Mahrree!” Perrin said, and she turned to give him her best smile. His face looked more like a weary husband and father now rather than the Commander of Edge. He hugged her and sighed. “The children look well,” he whispered in her ear. “How are you?”

“I’m perfectly fine,” she whispered back. “The major did a wonderful job last night. How are
you?
”

Perrin pulled away and shook his head slightly. They would talk later, Mahrree knew. He crouched down and hugged his children who tried to get out of the wagon to be with him.

“In a moment, I promise.” Then he reconsidered and quickly untied their ropes. His eyes were damp as he scooped up his daughter and son and held them close in each arm.

“Let’s go check on Zenos,” he said to Mahrree. “I’ve spent some time with all of the wounded, and I’m confident each will r
ecover, since Grandpy Neeks already told them they would. They seem to be in reasonably good spirits. But Zenos . . . he’s still unresponsive.”

She’d dreaded this moment. They made their way to the soldiers lying on the ground and stopped at Shem. Mahrree couldn’t see any change in his condition. And fortunately his face was so bruised and swollen that Jaytsy and Peto didn’t recognize him, or they would have interpreted his prone position as an invitation to wriggle down from their father to jump on his stomach.

Mahrree knelt down by his side and looked under his bandages. The swelling seemed to have gone down a bit, and the oozing had dried, but he was far too still.

“Oh, Shem,” Mahrree whispered miserably.

Perrin kicked his boot gently. “Up, Corporal! No more of this lounging around. You think you earned a rest last night? Simply because you saw them first? That wasn’t my deal. I said a day off for the man who first sees a Guarder
after
the conflict was over. Not in the middle of it!” Perrin exhaled and looked at Mahrree.

She raised her eyebrows at him. “You really think he would want to wake up for
that?
” she scolded.

“Lies,” someone whispered.

Perrin and Mahrree looked quickly at Corporal Zenos.

The corner of Shem’s mouth tugged slightly. “Major lies,” he whispered and his face contorted into a pitiful smile.

“Shem!” Mahrree cried and grabbed his hand.

Perrin crouched down by his side, trying to balance his children on each knee. “Shem, what are you trying to say?”

Their favorite soldier slowly opened the one eye that wasn’t swollen shut. “You, sir,
lie
,” he whispered slowly. “Sheep can’t build houses.”

Perrin stared at Mahrree, flabbergasted.

Mahrree’s mouth fell open in understanding. The fifth debate. The house-building sheep and wolf story Perrin had made up to describe why stone was better than wood in house construction. Shem heard what she had said to him during the night.

He may have heard
everything
she said to him.

Perrin looked at Mahrree, devastated. “Brain injury?” he mouthed.

Mahrree laughed softly. “No Perrin, I think he’s going to be all right! And actually,” she said worriedly, “we may now be in even bigger danger.”

Perrin turned fully to her, quite a feat considering he was still balancing a child on each bent leg. “Exactly
what
did you say to him last night?”

“Enough to get him up, right?” Mahrree shrugged.

She squeezed Shem’s hand and he tried to wink at her with his one good eye. It was such a pathetic attempt that Perrin and Mahrree both laughed.

“Shem,” Perrin whispered so that no one else could hear, “don’t you ever scare me like that again. You understand?”

The corporal smiled faintly. “You’ve just called me Shem twice, sir,” he mumbled slowly, “and we’re both in uniform and not at your house. May have to report you for that.”

Perrin grinned. “Yep—he’s going to be fine. Not sure that’s a good thing, now . . .”

The surgeon verified their optimistic diagnosis a few minutes later, and three soldiers carefully loaded Zenos into a litter to bring him back to the fort.

Mahrree noticed one of the village doctors standing by silently watching them. She didn’t think much of it until he approached them after they said farewell to Shem.

“Would you follow me please, Shin family?” he said kindly.

They would have followed him over the mountain had he asked it. The world had a little bit of justice again, Mahrree decided. The Guarder threat was fully contained. None of the young men who fought for the village had perished, all villagers were accounted for, albeit many were injured and terrorized, and even Zenos was still willing to risk life and limb to tease his commander.

And that commander, now replaced by a relieved father, alternated kissing the foreheads of his children to make them giggle. An enormous burden seemed to have lifted as Perrin carried his little ones, and he smiled easily. Mahrree put her arm contentedly around her husband as they walked. The Guarders may have infiltrated the village this time, but Major Shin was still victorious.

The doctor led them over to the smoking remains of the bonfire where a few tired villagers remained. Tabbit sat quietly on the ma
tted grass with Hogal’s head cradled peacefully in her lap. Perrin and Mahrree stopped suddenly when they saw their favorite nosy old couple. Tabbit’s eyes were red and she gave them a courageous smile.

Her husband was unnaturally still.

“It’s all right, Perrin,” she said. “Remember, Hogal
did
say he could die a happy man.”

Chapter 12 ~ “You want to save the world?

Then let’s save it!”

I
t wasn’t until well after midday meal time that Perrin finally came home and sat dully at the table. He didn’t even notice his food Mahrree placed before him, even though he hadn’t eaten since the day before.

Mahrree sat down across from him and reached out to touch his hand.

He pulled it away.

“I did get there in time, Mahrree,” he said dully, staring at some distant point on the wall. “I had a very clear thought. And I ran. I arrived
only seconds after the Guarder did. I saw him break through their back door. He punched Hogal. I surprised him from behind and dragged him out of the house. He pulled his dagger. I disabled him with a kick to his chest, then I drew my sword. One clean thrust, it was done. Exactly how we train for it. Perfect.”

He stared at the wall as if he could bore a hole in it if given enough time.

“It was too quick. I see that now,” he decided. “I should’ve made him fight. I should’ve made him identify himself. I should’ve just started cutting off limbs to get him to talk—”

“PERRIN!” Mahrree snapped.

He stopped and focused on her horrified eyes. The hard lines on his face began to soften. He stared at her for a few moments before he slowly shook his head.

“I did the right thing, I know. The doctor said he thought it was his heart. He was eighty-four, after all. Not up to taking surprises. I
couldn’t have gotten there any sooner. That’s not the way to die,” he finished in a whisper.

“Yes, yes it is, Perrin!” Mahrree told him. “His heart failing while being attacked by a stranger—
that’s
not a way to die. But peacefully in the arms of his wife? He
did
say he was happy, Perrin. You made him happy, remember? It was simply his time to go. The Creator said we each have a time to live here, and then we return. And you made that return peaceful, not terrifying. You did everything right.”

He sighed. “Sometimes I think I understand the Creator, but then there are times like . . .” He paused. “I almost felt it this mor
ning when Zenos . . . I was praying for Shem and the other soldiers, but I should have been . . . I didn’t even
think
that Hogal—” He stopped again and went back to boring a hole in the rock with his eyes.

“Just wait,” she said earnestly. “You’ll feel something different soon. Don’t doubt what you were prompted to do. No matter what was happening today, he most likely would’ve died. It was the
manner
of Hogal’s passing that you assured. Just
feel
him, and you’ll know he’s well on the other side.”

Mahrree could see in the darkness of his eyes that he didn’t b
elieve her. Or
want
to believe her. But she couldn’t understand why. Already that morning she felt Hogal’s distinct presence nearby, along with her father’s. Sometimes Mahrree wondered if Paradise wasn’t actually all around them. Today, the air was thick with it.

“I’ve felt him,” she told Perrin gently. “He’s not sad or angry—he’s joyful! He’s still with us. Oh, I wished I could have seen the reunion between him and my father!” Mahrree smiled, recalling the sense of cosmic chuckling that accompanied their presence. “I’m sure they have plenty to catch up on, probably about how they got the two of us together.”

Perrin searched her face, but his own expression was as cold and hard as a boulder.

“Perrin, death isn’t the end,” Mahrree tried again. “It’s
only a change. And there’s no tragedy in death, only tragedy in failing the Test.” Desperate to see anything else on his face besides his morbid bitterness, she pleaded, “You know that, now
believe
it! Hogal Densal didn’t fail, Perrin. And you didn’t fail Hogal.”

Perrin’s eyes brimmed with a depth of sorrow she’d never seen
before.

“I need to sleep,” was all he said. He pushed the plate away, stood up, and went upstairs dragging the full weight of Edge with him.

-
--

As Mahrree spoke to Mr. Metz, Hogal’s assistant, a few hours later in the gathering room, she couldn’t stop shaking her head. “Why does something so awful sound so right?”

Mr. Metz smiled gently. “I know exactly how you feel. But co
nsidering they were married for sixty-three years, I actually would’ve been disappointed in old Hogal if he
didn’t
come get her. There she sat, on the sofa, her friends on either side to help her plan the burial. They said they had a distinct feeling that Hogal came into the room. Tabbit looked up at nothing, smiled, closed her eyes, and was simply gone.”

Mahrree kept shaking her head, trying to keep her sniffling u
nder control. “It was only on rare occasions that they were ever apart in life. Why should death be any different? But how can I feel such sorrow and such joy at the same time?”

Mr. Metz gave her a quick hug. “Personally, I’m a bit jealous of them. Think of everything they’re experiencing now, without us! Oh, the questions Hogal could answer for me now,” he grinned.

But then his grin faded.

“What about the Major?”

“He’s trying to get some sleep right now,” Mahrree wiped her tears. “I’ll break it to him, somehow, when he wakes.”

“Would you like me to stay and help?”

“I appreciate the offer, but I really don’t know what his state of mind will be when he comes down those stairs. I don’t know if I want to subject you to that.”

Mr. Metz squeezed her shoulder. “If you change your mind, send one of those soldiers guarding your house to come get me. I’ll be at the Densals the rest of the evening helping with the arrang
ements.”

By the time Perrin slowly came down the stairs later that eve
ning, Mahrree knew both Hogal and Tabbit were fine and exactly where they needed to be. Each time she sobbed that afternoon, she found herself laughing a moment later. Mahrree didn’t weep for the Densals; they were far too happy where they were. She could feel their joy so immensely it was almost unfair.

She had cried for herself, her husband, and her children whose memories of the Densals would be only hazy fragments.

But she didn’t know how to break the news to Perrin. He didn’t look at her or the children while he ate his first food in over twenty-four hours. He eventually gave Peto a little smile when he climbed on his lap. Peto grabbed his father’s face and gave him a slobbery kiss on the lips. That drew a soft chuckle from Perrin as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

Mahrree practiced in her head a variety of ways to tell him about Tabbit. But his spirits seemed so weak she couldn’t imagine crushing him already. She watched him play half-heartedly with his son for another moment. As Peto scrambled to get back down she knew it was time to deliver the blow, and prayed the right words would come out.

“Perrin, Mr. Metz came by earlier when you were sleeping—”

“I know,” he said flatly. “Tabbit’s gone too. I overheard.” Perrin forced a small smile. “Actually, I feel much better about that. I couldn’t get out of my head the thought of Auntie Tabbit living alone. Especially after what happened. But how could I be there all the time to protect her?”

He brushed a crumb off his plate on to the table and watched it.

Mahrree just watched him.

“And I couldn’t imagine moving her to my mother’s in Idumea. The trip is so long for such an old woman. She seemed frailer this past year, too. Then I thought, maybe she could come live with us.” He scoffed at the idea. “But I worried that this house would be too noisy for her. We could have used the last piece of garden for her addition.” He smiled briefly.

She nodded and sniffled. 

He nudged the crumb to the center of the table.

“Then I figured, I could post guards at her doors, pay for it ou
rselves, but she’d feel like she had to feed them all the time.” He chuckled softly. “Then I pictured the soldiers getting too fat and not strong enough to fight off anyone else, or too preoccupied looking at her paintings of trees. She always liked trees.” 

He studied the crumb, flicked it with his finger, then crushed it
into powder with his thumb.

“Every option I thought of didn’t sit well. I didn’t know what to do for her. Now I know why. The Creator already had it all figured out. I was trying to fix everything, and I don’t think I ever asked for His guidance. He already worked out her plan.”

He finally looked up at his wife. “And I couldn’t have imagined a better solution for them. A perfect end.”

---

That night Barker looked out at the alley and waited. It was time, but there was no man. The dog whimpered quietly, and even got up and went to the fence, looking up and down. He sniffed the air, the fence, the ground, but there was no bacon anywhere. There wasn’t any last night or the night before, either. Probably none earlier than that too, but his memory got fuzzy after that.

Barker sat down and whined at the alley.

Nothing came.

After about an hour, Barker turned around and walked disa
ppointedly back to his doghouse, laid down, and fell asleep.

---

The next morning Perrin gripped the handle of a shovel, waiting for Mr. Metz to finish the service. He felt split in two. One half of him was disturbingly fine with what had happened. Almost in spite of himself, he felt comfort, late last night.

He’d left bed again to check for the third time on his sleeping children, making sure one more time that the bars in their windows were secure. Then he went to the front door to latch the lock again, and that’s when they arrived.

It was unmistakable, as if the air on either side of him thickened with warmth and joy.

Hogal was on his right, Tabbit on his left. In life, they were small and stooped, but it seemed in Paradise they both stood a bit taller.

Tears filled Perrin’s eyes, and his hand dropped helplessly from the lock. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered to them. “I failed you—”

The response was also unmistakable.

Oh, you did not, my boy! And you know that. We’re happy, my boy. Perfect and together and happy.

Please, Perrin, don’t worry about us. We couldn’t be prouder of you!

The last response was from Tabbit. For some reason at that moment he also smelled berry pie, and he almost smiled.

He let the tears dribble down his cheeks. “How do I go on wit
hout you?”

Now, my boy—who says you’ll be without us?

He stood there, with his chin trembling and shoulders shaking, feeling the two thicknesses envelop him in warmth. He didn’t cry for them, but for himself. The Densals were exactly where they needed to be.

After a sweet and gentle minute, they faded away.

Reluctantly Perrin trudged back to bed, where his wife held him tight and stroked his hair and didn’t say a word as he quietly wept.

But then there was the other half of him . . .

The
other half
that awoke early this morning.

The other half didn’t feel it deserved to be comforted. Instead it felt raw rage. Perrin once saw a caged bear and now he knew exactly how infuriated it felt. He wanted to roar at the trees, claw them all down, then tear into the flesh of whatever he found alive—

But he was caged. And instead of claws, all he had was a skimpy shovel and an open grave.

He wasn’t listening to the supposedly comforting words Mr. Metz offered to the hundreds of villagers surrounding them. Perrin was lost in his own head. At times like this he wondered if the reason his build was so large was because he was actually two men shoved into one body. So often he felt divided, as if his heart and head couldn’t agree.

One part of him tried to follow The Writings and was even occasionally jealous of Hogal’s position. His life was all about knowing the Creator and helping others to find Him. He’d done that for Perrin, too, and Perrin wondered if the only way he could keep on that path was to devote his entire life to studying it as much as Hogal had.

But he couldn’t, because of his other part—the part that was a
soldier, almost since the day he was born. This was the part that defended people and governments from those who would destroy. This was the part that knew the ideas of the world, clearly and intimately, and could argue anything around The Writings, just as he did when he first arrived in Edge.

And that’s what most concerned him. He couldn’t reconcile the two parts. Usually they resided in different sections of his heart and head, and didn’t come in conflict.

But then there were days like this where both sides glared at each other, and fought like starving dogs, and he couldn’t kill either of them. No matter how fiercely they contended, both sides still remained, slinking back to their corners and eyeing each other, waiting for the next moment when his heart and head would ferociously disagree.