The Forest at the Edge of the World (39 page)

She leaned over to snuggle into him. Everything about him was solid and confident, even when he expressed his doubts, and esp
ecially when he demonstrated how much his mind was like hers. As he wrapped a muscled arm around her, she imagined he was the strongest man in the world. Which, she smiled to herself, he likely was. It was precisely his strength she needed—his strength of body, and his strength of thought. It was
almost
as if he was the most perfect man in the world. At least, for her.

“Please don’t go back there again,” she begged him. “I want a
nswers just as much as you do, but not this way. Should anything happen to you—”

His grip around her tightened and he kissed the top of her head. “I’m asking my father for permission, but I doubt he’ll say yes.”

“Good. I like him.”

He chuckled mirthlessly. “You’re terrified of him, and you know it.”

“As long as he keeps you safe, so you can be with me and our . . .”

He put his hand on her belly. “Still waiting to know, right? We could ask your mother about it when she returns.”

She sat up and blinked rapidly. “Are you serious?
My
mother? We’ll just wait.”

The next morning Mahrree awoke to another wave of nausea. She sat up in bed, recognized what the feeling could mean, and cried out, “Oh Perrin! I’m still sick! Isn’t that
wonderf—” and couldn’t say anything more.

But he was ready. He immediately produced a bucket from u
nder the bed, and his timing couldn’t have been better. 

---

“You’re looking much better today, my boy!” Hogal Densal slapped Perrin on the back.

He wasn’t the first person to do that today. For his entire walk to the village center, people had been congratulating and thanking him for coming to Edge, and now that he was nearing the markets, the crowds were thickening. Speaking to the tanner about his idea for
leather armor was going to take a lot longer than he anticipated. Normally this would have been Wiles’s duty, but the man was still unwell and spending the day sleeping in his quarters.

When Perrin saw Hogal’s proud smile just outside the tanner’s, he realized his great uncle had likely presented a most colorful—and perhaps slightly embellished—retelling of the past few days’ events. Trying to win him more hearts and minds, perhaps.

“I
am
better, Hogal. Thank you.” But before he could continue, another woman came up to pat his arm. “Yes, all over now. No, you’re quite welcome. Army of Idumea’s here to serve. Hogal, exactly what—Oh, thank you. Just doing what I was trained to do. Yes, everything’s safe again . . . Hogal,” Perrin took his great uncle’s arm and steered him between two shops, away from the well-wishers. “Exactly what did you say last night? You didn’t tell them about the Guarder suicides, did you?” he ended in a whisper.

Hogal’s merry eyes darkened and his demeanor became somber. “Of course not. These people wouldn’t be able to handle such d
etails. I’m still struggling with them. No, my boy—” the rector’s face brightened again, “I just told them what you told me about the army’s ability to keep the Guarders from the village. Everyone here knows too well what happened in Grasses. You prevented another tragedy like that from occurring, and with a smaller army, even. I’m surprised you didn’t hear the cheering at your home, especially when I told them about your success in saving a private’s life. I wished you’d been here last night.”

“Mahrree and I were a bit tired,” Perrin explained, “and occ
upied by . . . other things.”

“Ah, newlyweds!” Hogal winked.

Perrin opened his mouth to clarify his meaning, but realized he wouldn’t know what to say without unintentionally revealing that Hogal might be a great,
great
uncle in the next year. Hogal could always get Perrin to confess everything. But not this.

Perrin just winked back instead.

Chapter 19 ~ “He’s
finished
, Shin! Out of the army!”

T
he High General wasn’t due to make his report for another hour, but some things will not wait.

That’s why Chairman Mal, after reviewing the initial report from the garrison, marched out of his office shouting at his guard to ready his carriage. Within minutes he was whisked to the garrison, with the rest of his schedule destroyed because one man went off on a stupid impulse.

“Will take me days to get it all straightened out again!” Mal growled as he exited the carriage and strode up the stairs to the headquarters of the garrison.

As ornate and elegant as the Administrative Headquarters was, the new garrison was functional and dull. Every building was an i
nevitable rectangle, made of gray blocks and regularly spaced windows and plain doors that suggested exactness, order, and drudgery.

Army life, depicted in architecture.

But, if army life was as predictable as the garrison, Mal wouldn’t have been bursting through the double doors shouting at the top of his lungs. “Where is he? Shin! I want to see you, NOW!”

The officers and soldiers walking down intersecting corridors all stopped to stare at the uncharacteristic outburst from the Chai
rman of Administrators.

A simple door down one of the hallways opened, and the large figure of the High General slowly stepped out into the hall.

“Chairman Mal, what a pleasant surprise,” he said sardonically. “A little confused by your schedule? I’m not due to brief you—”

Mal stepped around two large colonels to get to his target.
“Why’d he do it, General?!” he shouted, not caring who witnessed the argument that was about to ensue with the top wolf of the army. “Lost control over your pup? What’s wrong with him?”

General Shin folded his arms. “We can discuss this in my o
ffice.”

“Why?!” Mal bellowed, his face turning as red as his coat. “Don’t want the rest of the officers to know your reckless son broke the first rule of the army?!”

General Shin’s hard glare didn’t change, even though more than two dozen officers and soldiers were now looking in his direction, awaiting his response.

“All of them know the risks my son took in order to preserve the safety of Edge and eliminate several Guarder threats,” he said evenly. “I have nothing to hide about his success and his fort.”

“
His
fort?” Mal barked, a vein bulging on his forehead. “Does that mean
his
rules now, too? And he dragged a lieutenant in with him?”

“Karna is an obedient, faithful officer—” Shin started, but Mal cut him off.

“Unlike your son! He’s
finished
, Shin! Out of the army! Bring Perrin back, NOW!”

That finally drew a reaction from the High General. His ey
ebrows shot upwards and he unfolded his arms to put his hands on his hips, one hand next to his long knife, the other next to his ornate sword hilt.

“Bring him back for what? For keeping the Guarders out of Edge? For confining them to the forests? For preserving the lives of each of his soldiers, while at least nine Guarders died? Take away his commission for being successful, Mal? While he was unconve
ntional—I’ll not argue that—he was most certainly
progressive
in his approach to dealing with the Guarder threat!”

Mal took a step closer to the man who stood over a head taller than him, and was close to twice his size in bulk. But Mal had more power.

“High General, Captain Shin showed extremely poor judgment by entering that forest and staying there,” he seethed. “He was lucky he left that forest alive. It wasn’t skill, it wasn’t intelligence—it was merely chance. We cannot have commanders of forts setting such dangerous examples for their soldiers or the citizenry they’re to protect.”

But Mal knew he couldn’t end it already. There was still so much to prove. So many years had gone into setting up this exper
iment, and then to eliminate the primary test subject so soon?

No.

No, revenge was far more satisfying than removal. Indeed, this just may have opened up all kinds of options—

“Still, I realize that Captain Shin is young and new in his pos
ition,” Mal continued, trying not to sound too conciliatory, “and therefore likely to make mistakes
.
But—” he held up a finger shaking with fury because, after all, Perrin
had
caused the destruction of nine very capable, very extensively trained men, “—this will be his first
and only
mistake I will tolerate. You will hereby place Captain Perrin Shin on notice that if he cannot live by every rule established by the Army of Idumea—”

There were rules. Regulations.
Expectations
to how the game was played. Nicko followed the rules, but Perrin had ignored them all and came off looking like the hero.

Mal kept a score sheet in his head. Now as he glared at Relf Shin, and although he didn’t want it to, the sheet showed up to mock him.

Perrin—nine; Nicko—zero.

Perrin had cheated.

“—if he can’t follow the
rules,
he WILL be relieved of duty and returned to Idumea!”

The High General didn’t even seem to breathe.

Mal was nearly screaming now. “And you will also make it clear to the captain that no one—no matter how obedient or willing the stupid soldier is that chooses to follow him—should enter into the forests above Edge or anywhere else in the world! Should anyone else take one step into that forest, he too will be brought immediately to Idumea. Is that understood?!”

It was an impressively long spell that the High General stood there, unresponsive. The tempo of Mal’s breathing changed at least three times waiting for Shin to even blink. The top wolf did enjoy his stare downs, especially since there was nothing else he could do. His son broke the rules. Even though Mal knew the general’s stalling was to somehow prove he had the upper hand, he obviously didn’t. Mal gloated about that victory later, but for now he stared back, fee
ling his heart pounding in erratic rage.

It was advising General Cush who could no longer stand the tension. The portly man with the thin black beard and moustache—allowed only because he had very little hair on top, and was never going to be anywhere near hand-to-hand combat—finally stepped forward. With his ever-ready smile he put one friendly hand on Shin’s shoulder while his other patted Mal’s shoulder.

Mal, not one for mollifying gestures, glowered.

Cush pulled his Chairman hand back to safety, but kept the ot
her on the High General. Likely to help hold him back, Nicko decided.

“Already taking care of it, Chairman!” Cush said cheerfully. “In the middle of writing to Captain Shin right now. You see, he’s act
ually under
my
jurisdiction, as all new commanders are, and as such I’m crafting the response to his proposals—”

“Aldwyn!” Shin whispered in warning.

“Proposals?” Mal hissed. “What proposals?!”

“Suggestions, really!” Cush chuckled in a feeble attempt to lighten the mood. “Perrin had a few suggestions, the Command Board denied them, naturally, but it’s nice to see our young officers trying to be progressive, isn’t it, Chairman?”

Cush released his grip on Shin’s shoulder and daringly put a reassuring arm around Mal. “I’ve got things under control, and I’ll be sure to tell Perrin
exactly
how you feel about everything. You know you can trust me, right Chairman?”

Mal could, he was fairly certain. Some time ago he had his own private talk with the second in command of the army, the subord
inate wolf just biding his time to take over the pack. Their discussion was vague enough that Aldwyn Cush never completely understood just what it was all about. But Mal had decided Cush wasn’t the man he wanted. While he was experienced and useful, he was simply too social, always trying to bridge the gaps between everyone else.

Mal needed a fellow strategist, not a cloying politician, so he chose another research companion. It was fortunate for the High General that his long-time friend was, while opportunistic, also r
ather lazy. He’d jump at a bone only if it was laid on his nose.

“I want to see that response before you send it, Cush. In my o
ffice.”

“Of course, Chairman! I’ll bring it by myself.”

-
--

As Chairman Mal stomped his way out to his carriage, High General Shin growled under his breath, staring at the now vacant reception area. The rest of the soldiers quickly dispersed, trying to steal subtle glances at the High General as they fled to offices and exits, but not subtly enough.

“He’s right, Relf, I’m sorry to say,” Cush said quietly, trying to pull Shin out of his brooding. “Perrin was remarkably bold and co
mpletely non-compliant.”

“But he
succeeded,
Aldwyn,” Shin groused as he turned to go into his office, Cush following him. “Doesn’t it make sense to let officers do what works?”

“Relf, your father was the one who wrote the laws of the army, and you pledged to uphold them,” Cush reminded as he closed the door behind them. “We can’t go turning our backs now on the trad
itions that have preserved our army for so many years.”

Shin sat down at his desk. “Why not? Why don’t we be progre
ssive and take a risk?”

Cush wagged a thick finger at him. “I love it how you use Mal’s ‘progressive’ speech every time you want to do something against the law. But it won’t work, my friend. There are times to be progre
ssive—as you love to misuse that term—and times to cling to the traditions that keep our civilization stable. The key is knowing which to change, and which to cling to.”

Relf sighed again as he picked up his son’s detailed proposal. “All of those stuffed red coats are a waste of cloth,” he murmured. “Come in here yelling at me about how to do my job . . . Hard to think of a decent one in the lot—”

“Oh, there are a few good ones,” Cush said amiably. “There’s that Dr. Brisack, for one.”

The High General shrugged at that. “Someone in charge of Family Life
better
appear genial. But the others—I swear they sprung out of the same cesspool that spawned Gadiman.”

Cush chuckled nervously. “Careful, Relf. Don’t want the wrong ears hearing you.”

Shin scoffed at that as he perused his son’s writing. “Interesting idea with changing uniforms to blend into the surroundings—”

Cush sat down in a chair opposite him. “No, Relf. Not in the
least bit! The Command Board already discussed that—”

“They wouldn’t kill each other by accident!” Shin burst out. “How absurd.”

Cush leaned across the desk, grunting as he did so, and pulled Captain Shin’s proposals out of the High General’s hands. “I’ll let you read the response before I go to Mal. Seeing as how Perrin’s your only son, Relf, I’m rather surprised you’re not more upset at his willful disregard for his own life.”

“Oh, I was!” Relf exclaimed. “Initially. Then I started thinking about what he did and, well . . . fatherly pride replaced my concern.”

“Will you still feel that fatherly pride when your daughter-in-law sends you a tear-stained message that her husband has vanished in the forest and no one can find his corpse? After six years of hearing about our grandson Lemuel, Joriana’s been telling my wife how excited she is about the prospects of becoming a grandmother,” Cush hinted.

High General Shin rubbed his forehead. “Yes, yes, I know. Joriana’s already bought a baby blanket. Point made, Aldwyn. Say what you need to, but let me send the response.”

-
--

Tuma Hifadhi heard the knocking on his office door. He looked up from his desk and called, “Come in.”

A lean, middle-aged man opened the door.

“Hew Gleace! How wonderful to see you. Come in, come in.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything—” Gleace said as he came into the room.

“Of course not!” The elderly man gestured to a chair next to his desk. “I always have time! You seem to be bursting with something, Hew.”

Gleace smiled readily as he sat down. “I am, Tuma. We just r
eceived word back from the scouts in the forest.”

“The raid is over,” the old man began to smile. “So . . .”

“He walked right in, chasing the attackers! And this time, he
stayed.
For three full days and four nights he chased them up and down as if he had been born and raised in the trees. Never once showed fear.” Gleace began to chuckle. “His lieutenant, on the other hand . . .”

But Hifadhi ignored that as he sat back and sighed. “Pere Shin’s grandson.”