The Falcon in the Barn (Book 4 Forest at the Edge series) (16 page)

“
Why can’t I eliminate
him?!” Shem exhaled. “Just bring him to the fresh spring? I haven’t
had the pleasure of doing that for years.”

Jothan eyed him. “
You’re
the one who
received that answer.”

Shem growled. “And the answer was, No. I
don’t get it. I just don’t get it.”

“
Sure you do. What would
happen if the grandson of the High General suddenly vanished?
Besides, you said yourself he’s not one of
them
. At least,
not yet.”

“
And why is that?” Shem
stared at the steam vent. “There are tests, but apparently he
hasn’t passed them to know everything?”

“
There’s another reason you
haven’t brought him out here yet.”

“
I know,” Shem groused,
“but I have a hard time believing it.”

The large man leaned back. “Truly, I’ve never
seen anyone exasperate you so much as Lemuel Thorne. You really
can’t believe that there’s hope for him?”

Shem sighed. “You know, just a year ago the
fort felt like a family. But now? Thorne undermines whatever I do.”
He scoffed. “He simpers around Perrin, then adjusts everything from
how the papers are stacked on the desk to how the armory is
arranged, then glares at me as if to say, ‘Your days are
over!’”

Jothan blinked. “Are you . . . are you
jealous?
That’s not the Shem Zenos I know.”

Shem growled. “I don’t know myself! He’s
always saying things like, ‘Are you sure that’s the
best
strategy? When
I
was at
Command School
. . .’” Shem
cracked his neck to ease the tension.

“
Perhaps if Thorne’s
incompetent,” Jothan said, “then maybe—”

“
That’s the worst part!”
Shem nearly wailed. “That little . . .” he searched for an
appropriate word until he finally settled on, “—
thing
isn’t
that bad of an officer! The men listen to him, even though many of
them are older and seem almost afraid of him. I’m too distracted
myself to know why.”

Jothan put a brotherly hand on his
shoulder.

Shem sighed. “It’s going to destroy Perrin,
you know. Their return? He can’t do it alone, Jothan. I know our
rules, but we have to help him! I’m refuse to lose him!”

“
We know,” Jothan squeezed
his shoulder with so much reassurance that he accidentally left a
bruise. “We don’t want to lose him either. We’ve already decided to
help.”

Shem sat up, ignoring the pain in his
shoulder. “Really?”

“
We have a slew of
volunteers ready to man the forest and present obstacles. No one
wants to lose them either, Shem.”

Shem exhaled in relief. “Thank you! You know,
if we could just end it for him earlier—”

“
No, Shem. A few more
years, still.”

Shem sagged again. “He won’t survive it—”

“
He will,” his companion
said firmly. “It’s known he will. We need the colonel—and you—now
more than ever before.”

“
I know, I know,” Shem
confessed. “I just need to hear it one more time: he’s going to
make it, isn’t he?”

“
They will
all
get
there, Shem. Because of you. Hey, you’re not coughing
anymore.”

Shem smiled. “No, I’m not.”

“
Then get back to work,
soldier.”

---

When Perrin came to himself he was standing
in the middle of the gathering room, his father’s sword in
hand.

“
Oh, not again,” he
whispered.

It was the middle of the night and he was
alone.

“
Well, that’s a first. I
must either be getting quieter, or they’re sleeping through it.” He
stared at the sword in the faint light from the slivers of the
moons. He also noticed the thin soft chain which wasn’t there a few
minutes ago. Its absence had forced him to shove the dream aside
and slog to find reality
.

The silly thing had worked again.

He trembled as he clutched the ornate hilt,
unable to remember what sent him hurrying down the stairs.

“
I’m sick of this,” he
whispered to the room. “Three seasons. How much more am I expected
to put up with? Why me?” he demanded of the darkness. “Why
ME?”

He didn’t expect to get an answer, yet one
came, heavy and thick, as if it were created by the night itself,
blanketing him with cold terror.

Why NOT you?

Suffocating in the dark, he pondering the
words. In case he hadn’t heard it before, it came again, sending a
fresh chill down his back.

Why NOT you? Because you’re special? The son
of the High General? A colonel?

“
No,” he whispered. “I know
I’m not special—”

Oh, but you DO. Nothing should touch you.
But you could have been a beggar in Idumea if it weren’t for your
privileged birth. You deserve nothing. You’re no better than your
lowest soldier. And you’re not beyond my touch, Shin.

He gripped the sword tighter, as if that
would give him power against the smothering sensation that was
filling the room.

Why bother? You can’t touch me. Why don’t
you just give up? Three seasons, remember? What if it lasts for
three years? Three decades? Do you really want to endure this for
the rest of your life?

“
It won’t be decades,” he
declared with every bit of bravery he could borrow from his past.
“I’ll conquer it. I’ll conquer you. I never quit—”

Of course you do. You quit all the time.
It’s not a sign of weakness; it’s a sign of reason. You’ve stopped
doing things before. And it turned out to be the right thing to
do.

“
That’s different!” he
insisted to the words that poured into his mind. They weren’t
jumbled and confused as in a dream, but came from a deliberate
consciousness, with distinct power. What kept that force from
overwhelming him, he didn’t know. But his heart beat rapidly and he
feared it was only a matter of time before the force pounced on him
like a bored cat on a wounded creature.

“
There
are
times to
quit,” he admitted, “but then there are times to
fight
to
your very last breath!”

So that’s what you think you’re doing?
You’re not fighting, you pathetic son of Relf. You’re barely
existing. Everyone has to do everything for you. Oversee the fort.
Talk you into bed. Force you back in it again. Wake you up. Feed
you. Next they’ll dress you, too, and take you to the washing room.
You’ve become a burden. And what do you give them back? Nothing.
How do you live with yourself? Oh wait, you don’t. You live in your
dreams.

Perrin’s breathing quickened as the darkness
filled every corner, every crack. It wasn’t his imagination, nor
even hiding Guarders. It was something far more powerful, dark . .
. and old.

“
Be quiet!” he tremulously
ordered.

Oh, so brave, Colonel. And with close to
your last breath. You can’t keep this up. You even said so. They
deserve better, and you know it. They deserve a husband and father
who actually thinks about them. The fort deserves a leader, not a
brooding shadow behind a desk. The world’s done with tolerating
you, Perrin Shin. Do it a favor. end it for them, now.

Perrin found himself staring at the eating
table. Or, more precisely, the secret drawer in the table. Without
entirely wanting to, he walked over to it and pulled open the
drawer.

The long knife.

He’d hidden it there before he and Mahrree
were married, to give her access to a weapon. She never touched it,
but Hogal Densal had once. Perrin had never used it either. The
blade was perfectly sharp, and never initiated.

He should’ve remembered to tell Mahrree to
hide this one, too.

Don’t disgrace Relf’s sword, Shin. Use the
long knife instead. She may remember you better if you leave her
less of a mess to clean up.

He didn’t really want to, yet he placed the
sword on the table. He had hoped some of the heaviness surrounding
him would leave with the blade, but it didn’t. Panting, he took up
the long knife. His hand no longer trembled but clutched the knife
solidly.

It would solve so many things. He
was
a burden, a weak, pathetic man who couldn’t defend even a mouse.
They kept him out of pity.

He closed his eyes. “An object of
pity.
How’d I sink so low?”

Give them back their lives. Give them a
future. Remove yourself from their world. They’ll get over it in a
few days, then see the light again and sleep better, too. You know
what to do with that knife, Shin. Act like a man and do it.

He stared at the blade, shifting his grip on
the handle to change the angle of entry. For once he felt clear and
focused. It could be over in just a flash, and then everything for
everyone else would go back to normal and—

Something in the back corner of his brain
tried to reach him. He froze in his position, him arm raised as it
was a few nights ago—

The something came to him, like an old
memory, accompanying a face he had seen only once, but never
forgot. And there were words, repeating softly, again, and again.
Even the cold around him seemed to be straining to hear it. By the
fifth time he heard it distinctly.

May the Creator always bless and preserve
this family
.

Instantly Perrin remembered. Jaytsy was only
a toddler, Peto an infant, and he and Mahrree had taken the
children to the village green. An old man, as dark as the richest
soils but faded with time, had caught Jaytsy as she ran off, and
then he patted Peto until he fell asleep. Before he shuffled away,
the old man put one hand on Perrin’s shoulder, the other on
Mahrree’s, and said—

May the Creator always bless and preserve
this family.

Perrin shook his head at the oddness of the
unexpected memory. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he
whispered.

Nothing. Just do it. Before they wake up. Go
out as a man, with respect and honor and dignity. You know how.
Just plunge it in your heart!

The darkness seemed now almost panicked, but
Perrin couldn’t pause to consider why, because his knife hand began
to tremble. Whether it was fighting him or trying to make him
comply, he couldn’t tell.

The last hand that gripped the knife so
nervously was Hogal Densal’s. He’d come to see Perrin in the
surgery at the fort, after Perrin had chased down fourteen Guarders
intent on reaching his baby and expecting wife. A slash in his back
had just been stitched up by the surgeon when Hogal arrived. He sat
down next to Perrin and pulled out that knife that he had tucked
into his waistband ‘just in case.’

“
Can’t seem to put it
down
,” he’d said, and Karna had taken it gently from
him—

“
Hogal!” Perrin now
pleaded. “Dear Creator, help me!”

He is. This is His solution. Do it!

But a thought came to Perrin’s mind, placed
there carefully, clearly, as one candle set in the middle of the
night.

This isn’t the way the Creator works.

His gaze slid down the blade to see the
woolen bracelet tied around his wrist, just above the sleeve of his
night shirt. But the knotted wool was something more. It had power,
power to remind him of something—or someone—he didn’t yet know. And
in a way he felt it connecting him, binding him even, at the very
moment he feared that his soul about to be ripped into two—

“
Hogal!” Perrin gasped.
“What do I do?”

Another memory came clearly to his mind, a
conversation he and Hogal had days before Perrin was slashed along
his back.

“
I remember one evening
when I was eighteen we were discussing the Refuser,” Perrin had
told him.

Hogal had nodded slowly. “I remember that
quite well, too. What did I say to you then?”

“
That he was a son of the
Creator, that he refused to take this test we are all in, and that
many of the Creator’s children followed him into exile. They’re
exiled here, in this world. While the Creator gave us this world,
the Refuser stole it for himself and has sought to control and
destroy those of us willing to take the test. He’s here now, with
those who followed him, making this existence as miserable as
possible.”

“
Very good,” Hogal said.
“But that wasn’t all I told you, was it, my boy?”

Perrin shook his head. “No. You said
something else, something I’ve chosen to forget over the years, but
keeps coming back at the most unexpected moments.”

“
What did I tell you,
Perrin?”

“
That the Refuser knows me
intimately. That while he hates all of us, he feels that hatred
even more keenly for me. There are a few he most ardently seeks to
destroy, and I am near the top of that list. The world really is
out to get me. Why me, Hogal?”

“
I really don’t know,
Perrin.” Hogal had told him.“You must have a great future ahead of
you. Enormous power, influence, abilities . . . the Refuser targets
and attacks those who can do the most damage to him and his plans.
You could take it as a great compliment that he hates you so much .
. .”

“
The Refuser,” Perrin
murmured as he stared at the blade.

The darkness had a name.

Just do it! DO IT!
It screamed at him,
demanding his compliance.

“
Hogal!” Perrin whispered
frantically. “Ask the Creator what I should do to get rid of the
Refuser. I can’t bear this—”

This is how you make things right. Quietly,
discreetly, generously. Go out in a noble way. Do it, Shin!