Soldier at the Door (48 page)

But he would tolerate no more.

He wheeled his horse around to go down another road to check on the soldiers’ progress. As he turned the corner he saw, halfway down the road, a milkman and his cart approaching. Suddenly the mule pulling the cart stopped, as if something had blocked its way. Startled, the animal darted erratically, backed up, and—ignoring the protests of the milkman—pushed the cart back into the ditch along the side of the road.

At that moment two soldiers came from the porch of a nearby house, having recorded the names of the residents. They stopped short when they saw the cart spilling out cheeses and corked jugs. They hesitated, and Perrin, trotting his horse to the scene, whistled at them. He pointed to the cart, and the soldiers jumped into action, catching the last of the wrapped cheeses sliding out of it. By the time Perrin arrived, they were already righting the cart while the milkman hefted a covered jug and smiled to see its cork had remained secure.

“Why, you boys should be patrolling the roads in full force all the time,” the milkman said as he placed the jug in the cart. The so
ldiers picked up the rest of his goods and stacked them in the small wagon as the owner of it grinned. “At least until I can replace this mule. Thank you again. Major, you have some fine soldiers!”

“Yes, I do,” Perrin smiled. “The Army of Idumea is here to serve.”

It was a cheesy line, but seeing how lovingly the man cradled a salvaged wheel of cheddar, Perrin was sure he appreciated it.

He nodded approval to the soldiers and smiled to himself.

One citizen won over, only five thousand or so to go.

As he watched
the two soldiers walk to the next house, Perrin had a thought. He looked back at the mule that seemed to him rather sedate, as mules go. But it had reacted so abruptly, almost as if it had experienced something unexpected.

A corner of Perrin’s mouth went up. Would Hogal be the kind to upset a poor, innocent mule so the soldiers could do something useful?

Perrin remembered Hogal’s mischievous, waggling eyebrows.

Yes. Yes he would.

He was about to swing his horse around again when he heard a woman’s voice coming from across the road.

“Soldiers! How good are you at chasing dogs?” It was a young mother, standing at her open front door, with a little boy maybe four years old hiding behind her skirt.

One of the soldiers straightened up and said, with perhaps a bit too much eagerness, “Oh, I’m quite skilled at that, ma’am!”

“Good,” she said, “because I’ve got two dogs bothering my chickens in the back, and my hens aren’t laying because of them.”

Perrin heard, in the mixture of morning noises, the muffled sound of two yapping dogs and many fretting chickens.

The two soldiers looked over at their major for consent.

“Go fetch!” Perrin ordered.

The soldiers grinned, set down their papers on a rock, and jogged to the back garden.

Just a moment later two mangy dogs came yipping at a full run, and the soldiers emerged with smug smiles on their faces. As they went to the front porch, the little boy cheered and his mother happily held the door open for her poultry rescuers.

Perrin chuckled. “All right,” he murmured to himself as he walked his mount down the road, “now they’re not only known for beating up people, but beating up nuisance dogs as well. Well, I su
ppose it’s a start. And it’s your doing, isn’t it, Hogal? Service first, leadership later. Isn’t that what you used to tell me when I was younger? Not that you would
cause
chickens to be bullied by dogs, but you would make sure someone was there to save them, wouldn’t you?”

Before he could listen for an answer to that, he heard another voice calling to him.

“Major!”

He saw a very full, middle-aged woman standing in her doo
rway. Her thick hands were on her waist and her sizable bosom was heaving in pent-up frustration.

Perrin nudged his mount to head over to her house, and he braced for whatever was about to come.

“Yes, ma’am?” he called as he neared. “What can I do for you?”

“I saw what happened down there, with those filthy dogs,” she accused.

Perrin reined the horse to a stop at her front gate, the yipping sound fading away as the dogs headed towards the river.

“Yes, ma’am?” he repeated patiently.

“About time something was done with those beasts,” she declared, adding an emphatic huff. “Been complaining to Chief Curglaff for several moons about them, but he said there’s nothing to be done.”

Perrin sighed internally. But now wasn’t the time to get into a discussion about the failed duties of the enforcement officers. I
nstead he nodded to the woman.

“So what I want to know is this.” She took a deep breath that caused her to nearly fill the entire doorway. “If I see them dogs again, can I call your soldiers to do something? I mean,
really
do
something
with them?” Her voice became so deep and demanding that Perrin considered that the alarm he suddenly felt was similar to how people may react to him.

But he also felt a smile growing on his face.

“Ma’am, if those dogs bother this neighborhood again, just let one of my soldiers know and I assure you—we’ll take care of them.”

To his surprise, she burst into a
gappy grin. “Good! Now I’ll feel better paying my taxes this year, knowing that at least someone at the fort takes seriously the threat of untrained dogs!”

Perrin smiled, tipped his cap, and decided not to reveal that he also was the owner of an untrained dog. But since his dog would likely only ever lick a chicken, then attempt to take a nap with it, he didn’t see any reason to divulge that information.

He kicked the sides of his horse to check on another road. A minute later he was surprised to find a sergeant carrying a large cushioned chair from one house to another, and receiving the most useless directions from two elderly women. The sergeant shrugged apologetically to the major when he saw him, but Perrin shook his head and smiled.

“Carry on, soldier.  Just don’t carry the entire household. We do have a schedule to keep.”

The sergeant nodded and continued on to the gate where the women gave him the completely wrong advice for heading up the stairs. Fortunately for the soldier, the chair was very well cushioned.

His companion remained at the door of the neighbor’s house, talking with an elderly man who seemed most grateful the chair was
gone.

Satisfied that the set of soldiers understood how to be helpful in somewhat hazardous ways, Perrin set off down the road again. At the western edge of the village, he stopped again at a farm and stared in amazement.

Three soldiers stood knee-deep in a mucky canal, digging out a blockage. The farmer who owned it leaned on his crutch, his broken leg still healing from the Guarder attack, while the fourth soldier took down information about his household. More residents stood in line, waiting to give their information, and also to call out advice to the soldiers whose uniforms would need cleaning tomorrow.

The three of them looked up at their commander apprehensiv
ely, but Perrin smiled his approval.

“I had no idea soldiers were so useful,” one man a little older than Perrin said to him. “I
only thought they were good for chasing a man in black every now and then.”

Perrin pulled out his cheesy line again.

“The Army of Idumea is here to serve.” This time, however, Major Shin felt it a bit more sincerely.

As he rode away he smiled up to the sky.

“See Hogal?” he murmured. “I learned a few things from you. I still could use you here, though.”

Perrin fancied he heard a response, but it was likely just his memory fulfilling a wish.

No you don’t, my boy. There’s nothing more I could teach you. Well done, Perrin.

---

It was well past dinner time when Perrin finally came through the back door. He looked exhausted but—for the first time in weeks—a little bit pleased.

Mahrree smiled tentatively at him.

“So I’ve been hearing stories all day. Apparently you gave someone a ride to fetch a midwife?”

Perrin nodded. “I did. Heard on my way home it was a healthy boy.”

“And Shem was tasked by a widow to fix her wobbly gate?”

Perrin began to smile. “And her fence, and she wants him back again tomorrow for a leaky window.”

“And several other soldiers helped move hay, chase down a stray calf, hang a barn door, patch a leaking roof and a host of other tasks?” Mahrree recited. “Sounds like Stage One turned out to be, ‘Get To Know Your Friendly Soldiers Day’ after all! Or maybe, ‘Pull Out The To-Do List, Here Come The Soldiers Day’?”

“More like, ‘Feed the Soldiers to See Whose Cake They Judge is Best Day’. Somehow Gizzada started that, and I don’t think there’s a crumb of cake left anywhere in the village!” Perrin laughed.

He actually laughed! Mahrree sighed in thankful amazement. It had been weeks since she heard that sound that reminded her of deep, happy bells.

“Oh, I’m so relieved! Well done, Major.”

“You know I didn’t do anything,” he shook his head. “I have to admit,
you
had a rather good idea there. And Hogal thought so as well. I could feel him, Mahrree. He was influencing the soldiers and showing them how they could do some good first.”

She grinned. “And maybe Tabbit was reminding the villagers what needed fixing?”

Perrin chuckled. “Probably! That was the lesson they always tried to teach me. Service first, leadership later. Edge loves the soldiers now.”

“That should make Stage Two easier, shouldn’t it?”

“It might make it
more
difficult, if people keep finding odd jobs for the soldiers. Stage Two is all about speed, not finishing off people’s to-do lists!”

“So when’s the first
Race to Edge?
” Mahrree asked excitedly.

“That’s
not
what it’s called, by the way,” he said, slightly aggravated. “Neeks will have the map and designations finished day after tomorrow. So in three days,” he began to grin again, “Edge will experience
Stage Two
and be invaded once more. This time by soldiers.”

“Now,” Perrin said in a sudden shift of tone mixed with anno
yance and something else Mahrree couldn’t quite discern, “exactly what possessed
you
to
barge
your way into
my
training arena and alter the uniforms of
my
soldiers?”

Mahrree bit her lower lip.

Her husband started to smile when he saw that.

“Are you still mad about this morning?” she fretted.

“Are the children asleep?”

She nodded.

“Then let’s say there are a few things about this morning we need to
discuss.
”

Mahrree giggled.

-
--

Two men sat in a dark room of an unlit building.

“Exactly what is he doing up there in Edge?” Mal asked, his hands clasped in his lap.

Brisack shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure. We have only a few left in the forest up there. Still no word from the Quiet Man, but,” he hesitated as Mal glared, “help
will
be in place at the fort in the next few weeks. I’ve thoroughly prepared him, explained to him the importance of this assignment, and have the utmost confidence he’ll be successful. We
will
see interesting results.”

Mal sighed. “I better. I have my doubts, leaving this one all up to you. Did you see the report from the High General? Major Shin is proving to be quite the busy bear. An identification system for the entire village? A map with each house labeled and the number of residents recorded? He’s finding a way to keep an eye on every cit
izen.”

Brisack nodded in admiration. “Sounds like he’s taken his pos
ition as Eyes and Ears and Voice of the Administrators to a fascinating level.”

“Yes,” Mal said slowly. “Innovative.”

“Very progressive, I’d say,” Brisack agreed.

“
Progressive
?” Mal said in a slight growl. “Progress comes from the Administrators, not the citizens!”

“Shin isn’t a citizen,” Brisack pointed out. “He’s an officer.”

Mal stared out the black window. “Just what are you doing, Perrin?”

Chapter 16
~ “But bears don’t innovate!”

M
ahrree was hanging the laundry out on the line in the back garden when she saw Grandpy Neeks jogging down the main fort road. She waved to him, and he cut down the alley.

“Mrs. Shin,” he nodded as he approached.

“And where are you off to on this beautiful afternoon?” Mahrree asked him.

“Off to be rescued, of course!” He grinned playfully, his gnarled face adding even more distinctive wrinkles.

Mahrree knew he had forgiven her for her “softening” of the soldiers earlier in the week. Rumors had gotten back to her—via her mother, naturally—that a few older single women thought the “poor” master sergeant looked like he needed some fattening up and maybe even some tender loving care, and would Mahrree know if he were available? Until Mahrree could be sure of just how old Grandpy Neeks was, she didn’t know which of the names to pass along to him. Perrin’s claim that Grandpy was only in his early forties seemed preposterous. And his further claim that he would not become involved in Grandpy’s potential love life—“So don’t you dare think of asking me, Mahrree!”—was also disappointing.

But yesterday Mahrree mentioned to Grandpy in passing that a few Edge women were interested in him, especially one who he helped with a stubborn cat in a tree on Get to Know Your Friendly Soldiers Day.

Grandpy had looked pleasantly startled by that, then said, “Well, since she reminded me so much of my own dear grandmother—”

Mahrree had been too stunned at that response to know how to
proceed with suggesting he pay her a visit. Perhaps she wasn’t cut out for making matches.

But at least Grandpy was smiling at her again.

“I heard you’re the first victim, and I can hardly wait!” Mahrree chuckled. “So who’s running the first Race to Edge?”

Grandpy raised his eyebrows. “Zenos got you calling it that too?”

“I got
him
calling it that! Perrin wouldn’t come up with anything more interesting, so I named it myself.”

Grandpy grinned. “Well, the whole fort is calling Stage Two ‘The Race’ now, much to the major’s disapproval.”

“Zenos is a good gossip,” Mahrree nodded in approval.  “And I thought the soldiers might enjoy getting to know every corner of Edge if they realized it
was
a race. Get egos involved, and I’ve discovered men will do just about anything.”

“Indeed they do!” Neeks laughed.

“When’s the race beginning?”

“About half an hour. Sit on your front porch with the little ones and enjoy the chaos.”

“How many pairs is he starting with?” Mahrree asked.

“Three today, with himself, Karna, and Gizzada following them on horseback. You know how the major likes to shout his little bits of encouragement to the men,” Neeks said soberly, but with a wink.

Mahrree grinned. “Which means, if any of the men get lost he’ll be hoarse with screaming at them by the time they find and ‘rescue’ you.”

“Oh, I’m
counting
on it. This first race will be exceptionally confusing, and I fully expect to see at least two veins bulging on his neck. No one does angry quite like a Shin,” Neeks drawled with devious anticipation. “Have a good afternoon, Mrs. Shin!” He smiled as he waved and continued his jog into Edge.

Mahrree rubbed her face. “Ooh, boy. Hope Perrin gets it all out of him by the time he comes home tonight.”

Half an hour later Mahrree sat eagerly on her front porch, with Jaytsy and Peto fresh up from their naps, and cheered as the first racers ran past her house. Perrin, on horseback, followed closely and was already shouting.

Mrs. Hersh, pulling weeds out of her garden—and subtly tos
sing them over into the Shins’ overgrown yard—looked up in alarm.

“An attack?!” she called over to Mahrree.

“No,” Mahrree chuckled. “It’s Stage Two—the Race to Edge? It’s been announced at the amphitheater for the past few days.”

Mrs. Hersh nodded slowly as if she just remembered.

Another two soldiers ran past, with Karna following them and yelling.

“Oh, my,” Mrs. Hersh mumbled.

Mahrree giggled to herself. “I wonder how much of Edge forgot? I suppose they’ll remember just as quickly.”

---

That night when Perrin came home, he was all smiles.

“It went that well?” Mahrree said.

“Not exactly,” he scowled briefly. “But in hindsight, it
was
amusing.”

“I saw Grandpy on his way to the village. He said he made the first location purposefully confusing.”

Perrin grinned. “He sent the soldiers to find the tailor’s.”

“Oh,” Mahrree began to chuckle. “Which one?”

“That’s when it got interesting,” Perrin laughed. “All six of them ran straight for the tailor shop where they do alterations for the army. But no Master Sergeant.”

“Oh no!”

“So after terrifying the customers in the shop by running around frantically to find Neeks, they all rushed out and into the next tailor shop, filled with
women
.”

Mahrree burst out laughing.

“After several screams,” Perrin continued, chuckling, “the six of them ran out of
that
shop—”

“I’m guessing no one in Edge remembered about the race t
oday?”

“None that I could tell. The market was in full panic!”

“And you were there, on horseback, screaming at the soldiers, right?”

“Of course I was!” Perrin exclaimed. “It was embarrassing! They started hysterically running into every shop, looking under ev
ery cart, and one even looked under a hat on display as if Neeks could be hiding under it.”

Mahrree was laughing so hard she was wiping tears off her face. “So where was he?”

“
Tayler’s
Sweet Shop! He was sucking on his second syrup drop and sitting in the middle of the shop on a stool by the time the soldiers finally found him. I’ll tell you, he has the head-shaking-in-disappointment motion down to an art form.”

“I should have followed the soldiers!” Mahrree laughed. “At least it wasn’t Gizzada in there, or the sweet shop would have been cleaned out. So when’s the second Race to Edge?”

“Day after tomorrow. And Magistrate Cockalorum better be ready. I already sent him a message that he’s going to be ‘saved!’”

Two days later all of Edge was ready. Mahrree wasn’t the only one sitting on her porch with her children; the whole neighborhood was cheering on the runners as they ran through Edge on their way to the south of the village, Perrin and Karna on horseback following the chase and shouting.

Mahrree knew the best new entertainment had just arrived in Edge. Soon everyone else would catch on, too.

By the end of the week, they had.

Perrin came home for dinner and announced, “Now we’re getting requests for soldiers to run through family parties, surprise someone for their birthday, or terrify a relative visiting from somewhere else!” He tried to say it with exasperation, but his eyes were twinkling.

“Well done again, Major!” Mahrree grinned and kissed him. “Although, I do have a question about a certain ‘home invasion’ two of my After School Care students told me about?”

Perrin chuckled. “Yes,
that
. It seems that to save some time, two soldiers ran
through
a house, even stealing a turkey leg in the process and tracking mud from the back door to the front. Mrs. Peerce was not amused when she came up to the fort to complain.”

“But her sons were. Now all of the boys want to be on your routes. And really, it might be a good idea to accommodate some of those requests,” she hinted. “Remind the citizens the soldiers are there
for
them?”

He shrugged. “Perhaps, perhaps. Even if they shout the wrong directions at times, the villagers
have
been good about the soldiers jumping over their fences and running through their gardens. So far Corporal Zenos has won the three races he’s run. Every soldier wants a chance at either being his partner or beating him.”

“Sounds like a good motivational tool, Major,” she winked. “As long as there’s no wagering.”

“Only bragging rights,” he winked back. “And I never realized a man could be so humble in bragging. Shem’s an unusual person.”

Mahrree wrapped her arms around him. “And so are you, Major Shin!
So one more success?”

He nodded. “And then I think Edge
just
might finally be as safe as I can make it. Aside from building a massive stockade fence around it.”

---

Two men sat in a dark room of an unlit building.

“Races?” Mal asked. “
Races?
”

Brisack nodded. “Quite progress—uh, I mean,
innovative
, don’t you think? The soldiers are learning the intricacies of the village as well as if they’d been raised there. Even new soldiers can find their way around with his labeling system. Fascinating! I wonder that no one thought of this before. Perhaps the intensity of the raids have pushed him to such tactics.”

“Are you suggesting that
we’ve
caused this?” Mal bristled.

Brisack shrugged with a smile. “I suppose we have. He’s b
ecome quite the aggressive bear, hasn’t he?”

“But bears don’t innovate! They fight! They designate territ
ories—”

“Isn’t that what he’s doing? Improving the army’s ability to fight? Marking his territory?”

Mal groaned in frustration. “He’s making things very difficult. This was completely unanticipated!”

Brisack waved that off. “So then
we
innovate and counter his movements. It’s like a game of dices. He makes a call, we make another, he places a bet, we place another, then we see who really rolls the best numbers. That’s all.”

“How can you be so casual about this?” Mal seethed. “Don’t you see what he’s doing?!”

“Yes. He’s forcing us to be progressive, too. I must say, he’s making all of this far more interesting, isn’t he?” Brisack said, his eyes shining.

“He’s
ruining everything!
” the old man shouted. “He cannot be allowed to succeed, or he puts in peril all that we are attempting to do! Bears don’t innovate!”

“Perhaps,” Brisack ventured, “Shin really isn’t a bear. Maybe he’s
merely a clever man
up to the challenge.”

“NO, HE’S NOT!” Mal bellowed. “And I want him STOPPED!”

Suddenly a stream of profanities erupted from the Chairman.

“Slagging Shin! Son of a Sow! What the slag have you done?!”

Brisack blinked in mild shock. He’d seen Mal become irate before, but never heard him use
slag
in such a filthy way. Normally “slag” was the throw-away bits left over from smelting, except in the way the army said it, their tone turning it into foulest word in the world, and one rarely uttered.

As for
son of a sow
? Oh, that was just every day muttering for Mal.

But what surprised the good doctor even more was Mal’s exce
ssive fury.

“The problem is . . .?”

“Do you realize what he’s done?!” Mal spat.

Brisack sighed. “Tell me.”

“He’s undone US! Think about it—if his little procedure for recording the names of
all
residents goes throughout the
entire world,
and soldiers can
race
to a person’s house
within minutes . . .”

Brisack slowly nodded. “Ah, I see. A few people that turn up missing may actually be
somewhere
else doing
something
else—for us. Interesting,” he mused. “I suppose this is why most people don’t play dices against themselves. Gets hard to remember which side you really want to win.”

“
We
win!” Mal shouted, then looked perplexed. “I mean, ‘we’ being—wait . . .”

The good doctor smirked. “One side will always win, and the other always lose. Which half of
you
do you want to succeed?”

Mal exhaled loudly and started a quiet monologue consisting mostly of words beginning with, as far as Brisack could discern, the letter “s.”

“SlaggingstupidsonsofsowsShins—”

Brisack let him natter on like a mad old woman before he cleared his throat. “Whenever you’re ready, I may have a solution.”

Mal shut right up.

“You realize that Shin’s recording procedure will only fly in vi
llages that were attacked,” Brisack pointed out. “After terror, the people are willing to forfeit all kinds of freedoms to ensure their security. That’s something we may want to remember, by the way. But everyone
else
will see this as a further intrusion of the forts, especially when they see how quickly a soldier can be standing at their door.”