Soldier at the Door (68 page)

There was
only one more way her intentions could have been thwarted, but two hours after sundown, the last part of her plan came to the door.

“Mrs. Shin!” Sareen giggled. “I can’t tell you how excited I am to tend your children! I realize Corporal Zenos usually watches them—”

“He won’t be by tonight, Sareen,” Mahrree warned her and put a bracing hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

Sareen’s glow dimmed a bit. “That’s all right. Of course that’s why you asked me to come. But you can tell him that you trusted me!”

Mahrree didn’t feel like dousing her passionate fire just then. “I will, Sareen. Should be rather easy tonight. They’re already asleep, so feel free to relax and take a nap on the sofa until I come home from my mother’s.”

“Oh, I won’t sleep on the job, Mrs. Shin! I’ll stay up for as long as it takes—”

“You know,” Mahrree said with a small smile, “
Corporal Zenos
naps on our sofa quite frequently. He says that end is the most comfortable for his head. And that over there is his favorite pillow.”

Sareen flushed red. “Oh,
oh!
” she eyed the pillow as if it was Shem himself, beckoning her to sit on his lap. “Maybe I
will
take a little nap, if you’re out too late, that is.”

“I really don’t know how long I’ll be gone,” Mahrree said. “So make yourself comfortable, and later you can give me a report on how comfortable it was, and I’ll be sure to tell Shem.”

In a small way she felt guilty for feeding Sareen’s desperate hope, but she really didn’t want her knowing how late Mahrree might be coming home. Sareen fairly danced over to the sofa, picked up the pillow and gave it such a thorough fluffing Mahrree was surprised it didn’t burst open at the top forcing out all the goose down feathers in a white snowstorm.

“This is a
wonderful
pillow!” Sareen giggled as she sniffed it.

Mahrree looked away, unable to watch anymore. She took her cloak from off the hook by the front door and put it on. “Well, Sareen . . . Sareen?”

Her face was buried in the pillow, and Mahrree thought she may have heard a kissing noise come from it. Sareen’s head popped up, flushed with embarrassment.

“I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone,”—and Mahrree worried briefly about in what condition the pillow would be when she came back home, “—so keep the doors locked, and if you hear something at the back door, it’s likely Barker.”

“He’s not here?” Sareen appreciated the smelly beast even less than Mahrree.

“Yes, his daytime wanderings have turned into nighttime ones as well.”

“Well, with all the
female dogs
in the neighborhood,” Sareen giggled.

Mahrree groaned. “Most of the neighbors don’t mind his pre
sence. They seem to think his size means he’s actually a guard dog. But that litter of puppies down the road?” She shuddered, and so did Sareen. “Tragic.”

“Maybe as they get bigger they won
’t look so much like drowned rabbits,” she offered in a giggle.

“I hope so. We promised to help find homes for half of them. Anyway, just leave Barker outside. He won’t mind.
And don’t open the doors, whatever you do. If it’s me or Major Shin, you’ll know us by our secret knock.”

Sareen nodded soberly. “And if the major returns before you, I’ll tell him that your mother is ill.”

“Yes, please do,” Mahrree smiled. Her lie would be better coming from Sareen anyway. “Feel free to read anything in the study, and Sareen, thank you again.”

She hugged the pillow close to her chest. “No, thank
you!
”

---

If she were a more honest woman, she would be feeling more guilty about telling Sareen a lie so that she could find out the truth.

“Yes, Perrin—I know,” Mahrree muttered in resigned anno
yance as she walked as quietly as possible down the darkened road. “Sometimes lies
are
necessary.”

She glanced up at the tower as she passed it, purposely waving to the guards so that they knew she was a villager and not something
worse. She couldn’t tell if they noticed her, but the towers remained dark and bannerless. Even with the activity in the forest, no warning banners had gone up anywhere in the village. Only those with farms adjoining the barren strip of land left before the forest knew anything was happening, and even then it looked more like a full exercise rather than a possible threat.

Mahrree headed east, away from the body of the soldiers that were in the west. Should anyone see her she could say that she was on her way to her mother’s, but she had put up her hood hoping no one would recognize her.

The roads were quiet, as they usually were for this time of night. She didn’t feel her stomach knot until she had passed the turn off for going to her mother’s. Now she really did feel like a teenager skipping out on school, sure that at any moment she was about to get caught. But she wasn’t doing anything wrong, not breaking any rules, and she was even doing Sareen a favor, who was undoubtedly hugging Shem’s pillow with a passion no one should be around to witness. Everything was just fine.

So why did she feel so dreadful?

“I need to stop the secrets and find out the truth,” she whispered to herself. “Just to know that at least I tried! I’m the brave wife of the major, after all.”

She cut between two houses without fences and headed north towards the darkness. Passing the last road on the rings that su
rrounded Edge, she made her way across a farm and slipped between the still-standing dried corn stalks. The cold wind coming down from the mountains rustled the crinkly leaves, making a surprisingly loud and disquieting noise. She picked up her pace to get through the corn field as quickly as possible. Seeing the end of the row, she ran to reach it, stopping only once she was several paces beyond the stalks. Then she paused and oriented herself.

She was gripped with a sudden panic that nearly dropped her to her knees. To her left, further to the west than she anticipated, was the fort, brightly lit with torches to illuminate the activity. And d
irectly in front of her, across the canal, was the forest. She took several deep breaths, creating little clouds in front of her, and calmed her pounding heart.

Still doing nothing wrong, she reminded herself. Still legal. Still safe. She took a few steps back to conceal herself in the rows of corn
stalks and watched the perimeter of the forest.

The soldiers rode so silently she was impressed, but of course, they’d been trained to do that. Even the horses’ bridles and saddles were muffled with bits of rabbit fur so as to not rattle or jingle. The soldiers rode in twos, threes, fours, and occasionally as a lone soldier along the border.

She hadn’t anticipated seeing so many—the patrols seemed to be tripled, probably because of the action in the forest—and she hadn’t considered how to avoid them. She watched for a moment to see a pattern before remembering that Perrin purposely devised irregular distances and times for their movement.

“Very clever, Major Shin,” she whispered. “Not only can Guarders not get in, villagers can’t get near. I’m just going to have to
chance it,” she decided, looking up at the sky that was cloudy. “Rather dark tonight—”

She groaned as the clouds quickly passed, revealing two half moons and more than adequate light.

“Thanks,” she muttered. “Thanks a lot. Now if a soldier sees me, he might recognize me and not believe I was a relative from Scrub who got lost trying to find her aunt’s house again.”

But she also knew if she just stood there, she’d likely wet her drawers like Jaytsy did when she was nervous. Mahrree exhaled and started walking directly towards the canal.

Act like you belong there, she thought to herself, and they might believe you do. Behave as if you’re trying to get away with something, everyone will suspect you.

She glanced up and down the canal looking for one of the many footbridges that led across it. She found one further to the east and started for it, keeping her hood well over her head. Only once she dared to look up for any nearing soldiers. She saw one that rode past her a few dozen paces away, but his eyes were solely focused on the forest, not the fields behind him.

Mahrree smiled confidently, stepped quietly across the footbridge even though she could’ve walked through the canal since it was dry this time of year, and took one last look at the patrols. She had a clear shot for perhaps ten seconds . . .

“Do it!” she told herself, and took off in a dead run across the barren field. The trees loomed larger as she neared them until su
ddenly she was at the very edge. She took one last look either way, then . . .

. . . stepped in.

“I’m in the forest,” she panted and slumped down to the ground.

She stretched to the side and reached her hand out to the front of the tree she leaned against.

“But not
all
of me. I can still reach the field, therefore I’m not
completely
in the forest, therefore I’m not breaking any rules,” she babbled to calm herself. “And besides, Grandfather Pere Shin’s law first law is, ‘No officer, enlisted man, or citizen of the world . . .’ But I’m not an officer, I’m not an enlisted man, and I’m not
actually
a citizen. As a woman I have no vote, therefore I’m not truly a citizen, and I can’t be breaking any law,” she declared, more as a reminder to herself than anything else. “Right, Grandfather Pere?”

She released a tense giggle and looked around. “
Only trees, isn’t it? Perrin was right,” she whispered. “Now, how do I go about putting an end to all of this nonsense?”

She never thought she’d get that far. That’s when she started to feel cold.

“What in the world do I think I’m doing?” She forced herself to her feet, smoothed down her cloak, and took a few steps tentatively forward, still with the ability to jump out again in a mere two steps. Her hands shook and she found it difficult to swallow.

“Just find someone or something,” she muttered, turning to head east away from the majority of the soldiers. “If I’m meant to find something, then I will.”

It occurred to her then, as she crept along, that she hadn’t once asked the Creator if this was a good idea. The night of the raid when she ran to her mother’s, she was first on her knees pleading for guidance and protection. But not once this entire day had she done that. Maybe it was because she dreaded the answer would’ve been, “Get Back Home!”

The same gnawing feeling overwhelmed her belly again, and now she knew why.

She shouldn’t be there.

She wasn’t honest—not with Sareen, who had absolutely no hope in ever getting Shem to fall in love with her.

Not with her husband, who would be livid to know she was there.

Not with her mother, to whom she gave a fake illness for a co
ver story.

And not with herself, for believing she could find a way to end all of this.
Exactly what was she hoping to prove out there? That she was brave? Defiant? Something to be feared? Was it all just pride that propelled her out there and made her think she was something special?

She swallowed hard at her self-doubt and continued slowly along, skirting the leafless trees and shrubby bushes. She wondered what it would be that would finally force her to her senses, out of the forest, and back to her house. In a way she felt like she had come so far it would be pointless to go back now, with nothing to show for it.

Besides, she’d be all right. She
had
to be. Bad things happened to other people, not her. And there was that old man she remembered yesterday morning, the one who last year asked the Creator to preserve them. Mahrree nodded confidently to herself. If the Creator wouldn’t honor the request of a sweet old man, then who would He honor?

Mahrree would be preserved.
Of course
she’d be.

Then again, on the other hand, she realized she could still go back home and no one would ever know what foolishness she co
mmitted that night in the name of annoyance, aggravation and yes, maybe pride. She could just—

No.

No.
She would
succeed where no one else—
no man
—had. She was Mahrree Peto Shin. The daughter of the most intelligent teacher the world never knew, the wife of a commander, the daughter-in-law of the most powerful officer, and therefore, in her own right, quite possibly the most dangerous woman in the world.

What other woman would be doing what she was that night? None. Women could be just as determined, brave, and strong as men. Even more so. She would do what her husband couldn’t—

Mahrree sighed as she picked her way through the underbrush. She hated to admit it, but there were moments during the past season that she considered her husband to be . . .

Well, take that night weeks ago, when he told her that the High General wouldn’t let him back into the forest, and that he wouldn’t defy the law again. Mahrree
had
started to say she had never known him to be—