The Forest at the Edge of the World (29 page)

“Lieutenant Heth, the uniform suits you. You look much better than you did several weeks ago in my office.”

“Thank you, sir,” the former Sonoforen began. “I appreciate the effort you—”

Mal held up his hand to stop him. “Don’t be sloppy!” he hissed in quiet warning.

Heth paled and nodded. “Yes, sir. What can I do for you, sir?”

Mal stood up and clasped his hands behind his back. “Just checking on my future officers. Like to step in every now and then, question a few here and there. Make them know what I
expect
of them, that you’re going to be up to the challenge.”

Heth straightened up even more. “I assure you, Chairman, that I am up to any challenge you may issue.”

Mal nodded. “Very good, Lieutenant. In about two years, once you’ve completed your education which is being provided for you at an extraordinary cost—which I’m sure I don’t have to remind you—I shall have some exceptional challenges for you. Until then, know that I will frequently check on you, as I check on all my
special
cases.”

Heth’s
eyebrows furrowed, either at the news that he could expect future visits, or that he wasn’t the only one. “Yes, sir.”

“Any news on your brother’s whereabouts?” Mal whispered.

“None, sir.”

Mal nodded once. “You have another class to attend, soldier. Best not be late.”

Heth saluted, grabbed his books, and headed out the door to his next class.

Mal waited in the classroom for the next batch of students. Just a few moments later several young men filed in, each hesitating at the door as he recognized the Chairman. One young man stopped completely, then cleared his throat and nodded almost imperceptibly to Mal.

The Chairman nodded back, smiled that the message was received so quickly by the smarter dog, and left the room, much to the relief of the professor that was about to enter it.

---

Lieutenant Heth enjoyed stretching his legs and taking in the sights of Idumea. He allowed himself a break since he was ahead of schedule in command school—because of a “tutor” and a few pages of test answers. With the right papers signed by the right people with the right
extensions of the truth
, even a failed assassin could find himself with a new name, history,  years of enlisted army service, and the honor of the pre-commission title of lieutenant for his “exemplary past work.”

He loved Idumea, where reality never interfered with one’s a
mbitions.

He strode around the grand city purposely taking the long route to make sure no one could discern his final destination. With his cap pulled down, he walked casually up to the grand gates of the place he used to call home.

Two other soldiers, dressed just like him, manned the gates but made no motion to open them for him.

Eight years ago they would have given “the Little King” an
ything he wanted. No one outside the mansion called him that, though, because he wasn’t legitimate. His mother said it was because she wasn’t in any hurry to marry Oren.

Then one night when he was seventeen, his mother roused him and his thirteen year-old brother from their sleep, told them to pack lightly, and whisked them away to her aunt’s house in Scrub. She said everything was their stupid, senseless father’s fault. But he loved his father. Sure, he was a little slow, but that wasn’t enough reason to kill him, was it?

Lieutenant Heth walked slowly past the mansion’s entrance remembering how he and his brother used to shoot arrows at each other in the long grand hall. Dormin was far sneakier than any boy should be and was never hit. But if they met in that hallway now, Heth would pierce his traitorous brother in the heart. His skills with the bow were improving every day.

Heth stopped past the gates and sighed, looking up through the iron bars at the two-story stone mansion where the High Traitor now lived.

He
didn’t deserve those bedrooms or that grand staircase where Heth had frequently taken the mattresses from the maids’ rooms and slid down the stairs.

He
killed his father and didn’t care that his mother died poor and bitter in Scrub.

He
poisoned his brother into believing the lies the rest of the world told about their father and family. Dormin was the most devoted idiot High General Shin didn’t even know he had.

As Heth looked longingly at the tall chimneys rising out of the mansion, he remembered the last conversation with his brother.

“You’ve got it all wrong, Sonoforen,” Dormin had tried to tell him after they buried their mother more than eight moons ago. They walked through the burial grounds, alone, back to the small house where their aunt had let them stay.

“Our father really
was
useless. I’ve read all the books, talked to some who served under him. He was just a stupid man, completely ill-equipped to lead anything more than a goat to a pasture.”

“How dare you!” Sonoforen had exclaimed. “He was our father! The fifth in the line of great leaders!”

Dormin sighed and scratched his head. “You sounded a lot like Great Grandmother there. And she wasn’t just occasionally scary, she was downright evil. Have you heard of the killing squads? They were
her
idea, Sonoforen! Honestly, I’m glad we’re out of there. The only thing I wish now was that I didn’t look so much like them. You’re lucky you got Mother’s face. But me? I’ll never be able to go near Idumea. Too many people still remember what they looked like.”

Heth had stared at his brother who was broader shouldered and a bit taller than him, much like their father, with similar straw-colored hair and gravel-pale skin. “What have they done to
you? Who’s poisoned your mind?”

Dormin smiled sadly. “Every history book in the world. You should try reading some time. It’s a very humbling pursuit. Next I’m going to crack open The Writings. For as much as Great Grandmot
her hated them, I simply must know what’s in there.”

“I’ll never understand you.” Heth shook his head. “You sound like you don’t even miss the life we had.”

“I don’t!” Dormin exclaimed. “Not after I discovered what our comfort did to the rest of the world. Sonoforen, if I could fix any of that, I would. And
we should.
It’s our responsibility to reverse all that—”

“I’m planning on it!” Heth had promised darkly.

“Really? How?”

Heth didn’t answer him, knowing his brother would only punch holes into his idea.

“Oh . . . no. No, you can’t be serious.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Heth said.

“But I know you. When my dog attacked your cat, you killed my dog,” Dormin said bitterly.

“No one but
you
would have ever called that animal a
dog
,” Heth said steadily. “More like a deformed rat. It deserved to die.”

Dormin took a couple steps away from him. “Yes Sonoforen, you’re definitely the offspring of our great grandparents. You’re g
oing to do something you think is noble, then justify it in some easy way. Going to try to kill Chairman Mal or someone?”

“And when I do, don’t come back looking for a bedroom in Idumea!”

“Oh, I won’t, Sonoforen. I’ll stay as far away from you as possible, just like I avoided Great Grandmother.”

That was the last time
Sonofor—
Heth
had seen him. He left that night heading south with a butcher knife in this waistband and a determination to rid the world of a certain professor.

But now he had better plans. What Dormin the Doormat was doing now, Heth didn’t care. He stared at the mansion he was going to retake and smiled. Someday when he would be hosting a grand dinner there, and his starving brother would come limping back to beg a chicken wing to nibble upon, Heth would greet him with a bow and arrow.

Or maybe a jagged dagger.

In either case, Dormin would never spend the night in the ma
nsion again.

Chapter 15 ~ “You have deep

dark secrets?”

T
he next several weeks flew by for Mahrree. Between learning to cook, letting her mother decorate her home—within reason—and overseeing the building of the new study, Mahrree suddenly found herself just four days before her wedding.

And the reality of it all was weighing heavily.

It wasn’t that she was regretting the decision, she considered that evening as she laid out dinner in the eating room. It was that suddenly everything would be changing. She was used to having things her way, but this past week, after Perrin started moving in his things, it finally hit her that she would have to start doing things
his
way, too. After eight years of independence, she was going to have to live with someone else. That was going to take a little getting used to.

But her fluttering moments of doubt were always blown away by her excitement that she was about to be united with the most i
ntelligent, powerful, and—all right, she’d admit it if she had to put the title on him—handsome man ever to be in Edge. Not that she ever bothered with such designations, but since she ran into Teeria’s mother at the market who placed that label on her future husband, Mahrree decided it would be impolite to disagree with her.

She was still smiling to herself as she set his plate down on the table, and then heard an
almost
silent step behind her. The first time that happened she cried out in terror when two strong arms wrapped around her from behind. Until she realized it was Perrin. Since then he’d been sneaking up on her at irregular intervals, hoping to elicit that same blood-curdling scream that sent him to the floor laughing while she ran to the washing room to relieve herself.

But she’d improved in detecting tiny noises. That he made it through the back door and kitchen without her hearing was quite i
mpressive. But the wood floor squeaked under his massive frame, proving why he could never succeed as a Guarder.

She spun around quickly. “Nice try!” she declared as she threw her arms around him.

“Wow, you’re getting good at that!” Perrin grinned as he kissed her. A minute later he pulled away.

“You have news again, don’t you?” she asked worriedly. He always kissed her longer when he had an update from Grasses about the captain’s injured sister.

“I do,” he said soberly. “Received the message this morning. They think they’re finally losing her. She’s growing weaker and unresponsive.”

Mahrree’s eyes filled with tears. She’d never met the girl, but she felt as if she was her own little sister. She and her lieutenant should have been married three weeks ago, but that didn’t happen.

Despite the constant attention of the surgeons, her brother, and her intended, she never improved. A few weeks after the attack it was obvious the greatest damage was done to her brain, and she’d never be the same again. Still the fort at Grasses had hoped, and Perrin and Mahrree had written frequent notes of encouragement. But the captain’s sister never showed more than the occasional flicker of recognition. All of them suspected this might be the end, but to hear it from Perrin sucked away the last hope.

“Oh, Perrin . . . I’ll send another letter.”

“I already sent a message,” he said quietly. “The captain and the lieutenant sent us their best regards about our marriage.” His voice grew gruff as he held her closer. “I hardly knew how to respond to that beyond, ‘Thank you, and we’ll be remembering you.’ So unfair. They may be attending a burial while we’re celebrating our wedding.”

Mahrree brushed away a tear. “It’s awful. Any more news about the sightings in Moorland?”

“More than just sightings,” he grumbled. “They made off with over fifty cattle.”

“Cattle can be tracked.”

“Right into the forest?” he said bitterly. “Where no one can go.”

“
Why not?
” she whispered traitorously.

“Because the first rule of the Army of Idumea expressly forbids it!” he whispered back.

“Your grandfather didn’t know things like this would happen.”

“But the Command Board does, and it won’t allow such radical changes. We’ve discussed this before, Mahrree,” he said heavily. “And considering who’s coming soon, will you
please
promise me you won’t mention such ideas again?”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m just feeling a little . . . nervous, I guess. With them arriving tomorrow—” She felt his entire body go rigid. “Perrin? Are you all right?” She stepped out of his embrace to look at him.

“Tomorrow. They’re really coming tomorrow, aren’t they,” he said tonelessly.

“Perrin?”

He broke off his stare at the wall to look at her. “They’re great!” he said with forced brightness. “Really!”

“Then why is your voice so high?”

“Looks like dinner’s ready! I’m starving!”

By the next afternoon, Mahrree paced the floor of her house anxiously. Her home would be the Shins’ first stop on their way to inspect the fort. She checked the windows frequently looking for Perrin to arrive and calm her nerves, anxious about impressing her future in-laws.

Her back door flew open and Perrin strode into the kitchen. “I just received a report that they’ve been sighted. They will be here momentarily,” he informed her.

His official tone and dress uniform took Mahrree’s breath, but not in a good way.

He saw her dread and tried to smile. “Really, they’re great.”

“You keep saying that,” Mahrree whimpered. “Why?”

But she wished she could have taken that back when she saw tension had taken over his entire body. If his black hair could stand at attention, it would have.

He clapped his hands suddenly, smiled, and said, “I know what we need—a distraction!” With a spark in his eye he tossed his cap on the table, walked up to her and caught her in an eager kiss.

He was right. It was exactly what they needed.

But then he abruptly pulled away.

“Hmm. Normally that works. But now I feel tense
and
a bit guilty. Maybe it’s because I know my mother is coming.”

“It was working for me!” Mahrree protested. “Try again?”

He grinned at the offer and obliged her. She felt his broad shoulders finally start to relax until the unmistakable sound of horses and a coach could be heard rumbling down the road.

He tensed and stepped out of her arms.

“They’re here,” he announced the obvious as he brushed down his dark blue dress jacket with extra patches and medals, as if trying to wipe away his deeds of the last few minutes.

Mahrree handed him his cap and told him what she’d been pra
cticing all morning. “You look perfect, Captain. The fort is an amazing piece of craftsmanship. Your men are obedient and disciplined. Everyone in Edge adores you, especially since you’re my intended. They
will
be impressed.”

He put his cap on and smiled bravely as they heard the coach rattle and clank to a stop in front of the house. “And they’ll be i
mpressed with the power you have over me.” He winked at her and stepped confidently to the door and out into the front garden.

Mahrree followed, but stopped short in the shadow of the doo
rway.

By the road Captain Shin stood at attention as a soldier held the horses and a footman—an armed soldier likely chosen because he could move so stiffly—made his way to the coach door.

Mahrree had heard stories about a massive black cavern on the edge of the forest near Moorland. Stones thrown into it were never heard to hit bottom. It even sucked in animals, sunshine, and joy—or so the stories went.

The enclosed coach standing in front of her home had the same effect.

Nothing like its size or workmanship had ever been seen before in Edge, and Mahrree noticed people down the road cautiously coming out of their houses to glimpse the black beast. Somehow, even after days on the road, there didn’t seem to be a speck of dust on it, as if dirt didn’t dare touch the brass trimmings on the doors and wheels.

Even the four dark brown horses, perfectly matched and fitted with brass-studded harnesses, had an air of aloofness about them.
They snuffed in impatience, tossing their manes, and eyeing a few young boys who dared to sneak closer for a look.

Mahrree gulped and wished she could shoo away the boys. They had no idea what was in that coach. And the occupants of that coach, she realized in dread, were about to come into her house.

The footman, after some odd stepping that Mahrree assumed was some kind of formality, finally opened the heavy coach door with a strained flourish.

The little boys by the horses ran back to their homes, and Mahrree wished she could have joined them in ducking into their front doors to peek out the windows with their mothers.

The cavernous coach belched out the general, who stepped out and smartly saluted the captain of Edge. The general wasn’t quite as tall as his son, but made up for it in a little additional girth. Perrin bore a remarkable resemblance to his father. Mahrree felt a bit of guilty relief that the general seemed to have a full head of graying hair under his blue cap, and was aging handsomely. So then too might her future husband.

But everything else about the general was as intimidating as his ride.

His uniform was packed with so many medals and patches Mahrree wondered that any of the dark blue still showed through. His ornate sword hilt glinted in the sunlight and even the air around him seemed to still, as if afraid he would inhale it. His dark eyes were like rocks, and his face was etched with what the originator of the description “rugged” was undoubtedly imagining.

Mahrree had intended to leave the doorway and join Perrin, but the general was more unapproachable than she expected. She waited for the official façade to fall away and the general to hug his son, assuming that might be her cue to appear. But he didn’t.

“Captain Shin!” The general’s voice was more severe than Mahrree imagined. “The cobblestones in this area are much rougher than on the village main. Do you see that as a problem?”

“Only if you do, sir. However, the citizens seem to be fine with the condition of the roads. And it’s only the state of the fort that we can control, sir.”

“That answer will suffice, Captain. At ease.”

“Oh, come now, Relf!” said a woman’s voice from the coach. “Is that any way to greet your son?”

With more oddly crisp movements, the footman helped Mrs. Shin from the blackness and she held out her arms to her son.

She was slender and nearly as tall as her husband, her brown hair twisted into a bun and positioned under a fancy felt hat with a wide brim. Mahrree almost giggled when she saw it, remembering Perrin’s admission to hat shopping, and wondering who helped her pick out her hats now. Her gown of tightly woven cream-colored li
nen would have won Hycymum’s whole-hearted approval. Mrs. Shin was the very definition of Idumean poise, elegance, and beauty, even after three days of riding in a hot coach. Why her son chose someone like Mahrree . . . 

Mahrree whimpered softly and felt underdressed, even though she wore her best Holy Day skirt. She unconsciously tried to smooth the light brown cotton.

The general nodded his permission to his son, and Perrin walked up to his mother and gave her a big embrace.

“It’s so wonderful to see you, Perrin!” she said sweetly as he set her down on the ground. “But I want to see someone else even more.”

“Absolutely, Mother,” Perrin turned to the doorway with a big smile and held out his arm to where Mahrree stood, pretending to be brave. “This is Mahrree Peto. Soon to be Shin.”

“Welcome to Edge, Mrs. Shin, General,” Mahrree said with a flimsy smile and an impulsive curtsey. She knew they did those back in the time of the kings. What people did now when they were terr
ified to meet someone, she didn’t know, but hoped it was sufficient.

General Shin only nodded in her direction, but Perrin’s mother walked up to her quickly and gave her a hug.

“You have no idea how long I’ve hoped my son would find you,” she whispered.

Perrin sent Mahrree an ‘I told you so!’ look. 

Mrs. Shin pulled away and Mahrree knew she was on inspection. Mrs. Shin smiled as she examined her quickly, head to toe.

“Very nice. Very nice indeed. Should be a beautiful gran
dchild.”

“Mother!” Perrin shouted, offended at her assumption.

She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Don’t worry—I trust your integrity completely and don’t expect to visit my grandchild for
at least
nine more moons.”

Perrin looked at his mother as if he had never seen her before.

Mahrree released a nervous giggle.

Mrs. Shin turned back to her. “Come, my dear, let’s get a
cquainted while the men out there talk about duller things.” She waved to her son and nodded to her husband who tipped his cap.