Soldier at the Door (6 page)

Perrin’s eyebrows furrowed in surprise at her lack of it.

She was overly calm, like a crazed person who had been planning a bizarre scheme for seasons.

Which she had.

“Perrin,” she said steadily, “just consider it for a moment. The Writings tell us to bring more into the World, so all can have an opportunity to go through The Test. We should have more children—”

“Why are you saying these things?!” he whispered severely, and
looked around to see if anyone was near enough to hear.

“Because our ancestors had many more than two,” she insisted. “And there are others that still have up to fifteen! I’ve done the math—
I know
I’m right.”

He shook his head.

“Only consider this for a minute, please,” she begged. “The world began with one thousand and the Creator. Then He paired them up to populate the land.”

“Yes,” he said slowly, trying to put his shock in his back pocket for a moment.

“Now, one thousand people means five hundred pairs. If they have an average of 6.5 children in each family—”

“Where did you get
that number
?” he whispered fiercely.

She was a bit startled by his exclamation, but decided it was a natural reaction to the onslaught she was throwing at him. “It’s just an
average, all right? You can say six then, or seven—”

“Still, six?!” he exclaimed hoarsely. “You can barely keep track of Jaytsy while Peto is feeding! How could anyone keep track of six children?”

She would not be deterred. “Couldn’t the older help care for the younger?”

He looked down for a moment. “I suppose,” he conceded, “but how would they know what to do?”

“Learn from their mothers? I don’t know. That’s not the point. Besides, some could have less, and some could have more.”

Perrin stared at her, wild-eyed.

“So at a rate of 6.5 children—I ran scenarios for four and eight as well,” she explained, “but this seems to be the most accurate average—”

“You really
have
been thinking about this.”

“There’s little else to do when I’m nursing a baby! So, 500 co
uples have 6.5 children for 3250 people. Pair them up for another generation and at 6.5 children per couple, that becomes about 10, 500. The third generation at the same rate becomes around 34,000. The fourth generation is, what was it? Oh yes—110,500. Fifth generation means almost 360,000, and by the sixth generation we have over a million and one hundred thousand people. Give or take.”

Perrin only blinked.

“The Great War broke out during the seventh generation. Perrin, how many people were in the world then? Does the army have any good estimates?”

He shook his head slightly, likely trying to catch up to her ca
lculations and frantically trying to figure out the dangerous direction his wife was headed. “Uh, not any better than anyone else. Well over a million people. At least two hundred thousand died over those five years. If it weren’t for the war, we’d have far too many people now. One million is all the land can support.”

Mahrree ignored his rationale, cultivated into him by his Idumean education. “Yes! Over one million people! Now the only way we got so many was because families
were bigger
. Now Perrin, consider this—what if the world is already supporting more than only us?
Somewhere else?
Perrin, how many Guarders might there be?”

He blinked rapidly and thought for a moment. “Uh, no one’s sure. When they left there were maybe 2,000. But they can’t be more than 10,000 now, according to some of the estimates my father has been given. That’s still a large number to battle, especially if they arm their wives and children. That’s why we’re increasing the army to 15,000.”

“Has anyone ever encountered an armed woman or child?” she pressed.

Perrin paused. “No,” he said slowly. “Just the rumor.”

Mahrree was unimpressed. “
Rumor
. Since when do you believe in rumors?”

His eyes flared, and she realized she’d nudged awake the ca
ptain again. “
Rumor
, Mrs. Shin,” he said in a low voice, “was how we knew the Guarders were becoming active again. You might even say
rumor
is also how I found out about you being marked last season.”

Mahrree scrunched up her mouth, realizing she was losing that debate. So she shifted it.

“Then I suppose you should also believe the
rumor
that Guarder women can have up to fifteen babies. So, with birth rates like that, might there not be more Guarders? Maybe even
tens
of thousands?”

“Surviving in the
wilderness?
” Perrin challenged back.

“Why not? Didn’t our ancestors live in a kind of wilderness at first and have many children?”

Perrin shook his head to clear out the fog. “Mahrree, what’s your point?”

“That the Creator made us capable of having more children!”
she nearly exploded. “In order to have reached over one million people in six generations, families were much larger. No one remembers, or even thinks about it, because all the family line records were destroyed. That fire can’t have been an accident. King Querul the First did it on purpose, so generations later no one would remember!”

He stared at her with what she thought might have been fear. But having never seen fear before in him, she didn’t know how to interpret the look that tried to penetrate her mind.

“Perrin, if we remembered—had
any
records left—as to how many children our ancestors had, we would know we could bear more children. Our bodies haven’t changed in merely one hundred twenty years to produce only two children safely. The Office of Family is wrong! Can’t you see?” she pleaded.

If she wasn’t holding her newborn she would have grip
ped his shoulders and shook him.

“It’s a lie, Perrin! A lie started by the kings and continued by the Administrators. I don’t know why they want to keep the popul
ation down and refuse to let us explore, but they’re doing it
on purpose!
I’ve searched The Writings and I can’t find anywhere that the Creator said, ‘And when this people has reached one million, cease to multiply!’ We are only replacing now. And many couples aren’t even doing that. But we can! My body can do this!”

“Mahrree, Mahrree!” he whispered urgently. “You’ve got to stop! You don’t know what you’re saying—what you’re
imagining. Yes, there are questions about the loss of family lines, but we can’t deal with that now. We just have to live with it.”

He wasn’t holding a baby, so he did grip her shoulders and shake her gently.

“Everything you’re saying—you must realize—is traitorous! Wanting to go against the edicts of the Administrators?! Please, Mahrree, if you love your family,
just stop
. Remember, the Administrators don’t hold much to The Writings. I’ve heard Nicko Mal say that those who are believers have ceased being thinkers.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

Perrin’s face immediately registered his mistake as Mahrree began to fume.

“That has to be the most illogical, stupid thing I’ve ever heard! We believe
because
we think! We
choose
to believe, which indicates a great deal of thought went into the decision! What, if Mal
believes
he has a mind, does that mean he no longer
thinks
with it?! Obviously!”

She never was skilled at holding her tongue. Not even with her fingers.

But she had to shake off the narrow-mindedness of Nicko Mal to get back to her point. “But they’ve told us
we
can still believe! And is
not
continuing to multiply
against
our beliefs? Couldn’t we argue that we must follow our hearts?” she implored. “Besides, my mother had only one, and so did your mother. They could’ve had two. Think about this: what if we have the two they didn’t?”

His eyes nearly popped out.

“Now you want
four
children?!” he screamed in a whisper and looked around quickly. It would have been much safer to have the conversation in the house.

In a closet.

Under a blanket.

Into a pillow.

“Woman, what is
with
you tonight?!”

“But couldn’t we make that argument?” she pushed. “That we want to have the children our mothers had a right to, but didn’t? With your father’s connections, couldn’t he get us permission from the Administrator of Family Life—”

He shook his head violently as if that would change the view he saw of his wife. It didn’t.

“The High General challenging the Administrators?” he asked as if to make sure he heard her correctly.

“You defied them
all
by going in to the forest again!”

“That was different! Mahrree, this . . . this—I can’t think
of a
worse
idea! Do you know of anyone who deliberately had more than two children? I mean besides the occasional twins or triplets?”

“No, not really. But I think that’s because no one has tried—”

“No, it is not,” Perrin said darkly. “Many
have
tried. I don’t know about this village, but I’ve seen the families from other villages who’ve attempted it.”

A smile began to grow on Mahrree’s face. “So it’s
possible?!”

“No! It’s not!” Perrin repeated in a panicked whisper. “Phys
ically, maybe yes. But in no other way!”

He sighed and sat down in front of her.

“When I was in Command School, I served for a time in the King Oren’s courts building, as all future officers did. I saw several families come in with two children and a mother large with expecting. Mahrree, they were
broken apart
.” His voice became husky as he saw the tears building in her eyes. “A court would evaluate the parents,
always find them unfit to care for so many, and disband them. The father would be incarcerated for not ensuring his wife took The Drink—”

Mahrree’s chin began to quiver.

Perrin tenderly tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “The mother would be sent to a building which houses the mentally ill because she was unfit to care for
any
children. And their children—”

Tears were already streaking down Mahrree’s face.

“—the children and the new baby would be given to different sets of parents, people who found themselves unable to have babies. The Administrators merely took the kings’ Office of Family and put Dr. Brisack over it. Nothing there has changed.”

Mahrree shook her head in anguished grief. “The
Roons claimed as their own a four-year-old only a few weeks ago,” she whispered. “The little girl said her family travelled to Idumea, then they disappeared.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “Saysha was told the girl’s parents and younger brother were taken by Guarders.
Guarder snatched
. Oh Perrin, they weren’t, were they? Her mother may have been expecting again!”

He smoothed her hair. “Don’t tell
Saysha your suspicions,” he warned her softly. “Just let her enjoy becoming a mother. That’s all that can be done now.” He kissed her cheek. “Do you understand why we can’t risk this? Even if my father merely mentions your idea we might be under suspicion. Our babies could still be taken. I love our children, too. Let’s be grateful we have them, and desire no more than we should.”

“Oh, I wish I could, but I can’t! Because I . . .” She faltered as she sobbed. She’d had it all figured out, too. It could have worked.
It could have
. . .

But now?

“Because you what?” he asked quietly.

“Because I dream!” she burst out. “I dreamed the night we were engaged, and the night Jaytsy was born and again when Peto was born, and a few other times, too—Perrin, it sounds crazy, I know, but
I was sitting with children all around me. And there was a huge house, with weathered gray wood, and window boxes and herb plants growing in them. We needed something so large for all the family. And there were mountains. And the children were
ours
. Lots of them. Over a dozen, I think. And I was so happy!”

Perrin’s face showed no new e
motion. “Mahrree, a dream’s simply a dream. The coincidence that it came on significant nights for you is, is, is . . . just a coincidence.”

Mahrree was stunned that he didn’t seemed moved by her rev
elation. In fact, he seemed to think nothing of it at all, and that bothered her intensely. It’d been so important to her, so comforting, so exciting, so glorious—

So nothing to him.

“Are you sure it’s not a gift from the Creator?” she tried again. Maybe it was the captain that was in charge of his mind right now, not her husband. She had to find her Perrin again. “Are you sure a coincidence isn’t really a miracle? In The Writings there are accounts of people having dreams that came true.”