The Forest at the Edge of the World (10 page)

The second man regarded him suspiciously. “So your purpose is to . . .”

“Demonstrate conclusively that men are simply animals, and can be broken as such.” The older man rattled it off as if he’d been practicing for seven years. Which, he likely had.

“What about women?”

The first man waved that off. “Everyone already accepts they’re only animals. Women have no more influence or thought beyond what their men accord them.”

The second man smirked. “You were never married, were you?”

“No. I have better things to do. So, are you up to it?”

“Just one question: you
will
be objective about all of this, won’t you? I’m a little concerned that your personal experiences—”

“Show me one man that’s completely objective!” the older man snapped. “There’s no such thing. All science—when you get right down to it—is about proving a bias. You know that as well as I do, so why should we pretend otherwise? I’ll be as impartial and obje
ctive as any man
can
be, but if I didn’t feel any drive to do what I do, why would I do it at all?”

The second man nodded in reluctant agreement. “You may have a point.”

“Naturally. Now,” the first older man continued methodically, “there hasn’t even been one incident, yet already some villages are reporting there have been sightings. You see,” he leaned forward, “it’s merely the
perceptions
of what is real that affect people, not reality. Just a
suggestion
of terror, and already they’re trembling like a broken dog. I fear it may all prove to be too simple.”

He sat back, almost sadly.

“But hopefully we’ll be able to enjoy this study for a few years before the world crumbles into a cowering mess,” he continued. “So, the oaths have been taken, all my men have moved into place—I’ve even already received a very interesting report—every fort will be in operation within the next few weeks . . . I can see you’re intrigued, so I ask you again: are you ready? Because Stage Two is.”

The second thought for a moment. “Who in the world will be tested first?”

The first smiled thinly. “I assume that question means you’re willing to be my research partner. Take your pick. The world’s under my control.

Chapter 5 ~ “Tell me what you know about Guarders.”

I
n the morning Captain Shin stared out again at the forest, his stack of notes in one hand, his sharpened charcoal in another, and his mind back at the platform staring at the memory of a school teacher with blazing eyes and a blistering demeanor. He shook his head to dislodge the distraction and glared at the forest. It was no use. He really should check on the builders’ progress at the barracks, anyway. With a sigh of self-deprecation, he turned and headed back to the fort.

Just inside the forest, about thirty paces deep and sitting high up in a tree, two men dressed in mottled green and brown clothing waved good-bye to the captain. Then they winked at each other.

-
--

Chairman Mal sat at his desk going over files that morning from the Administrator of Loyalty—another list of citizens the sniveling man suspected of potential sedition, or at least weak senses—when the door swung open and a commotion of men poured into his office.

“Sir, I’m sorry, but he just won’t—”

Mal held up his hand to calm the group, about eight men in short red jackets subduing a scruffy creature. Mal’s eyes fell upon the young man in his twenties, his hair filthy and mussed, his face smeared with muck, and his clothing disheveled—an unappreciated mutt left out in a storm. In his hand was a butchering knife.

Mal had no doubt he would have been lunging towards the
Chairman if it weren’t for the guards who’d finally caught up to him. Two were on each of his arms, holding him back, while another guard panted his apologies.

“Sir, he was so quick. Before we knew it he was through the outer doors—”

Mal nodded coolly. “To get through the outer doors is a serious breach, but you and your men made up for your previous error. He’s not going anywhere now, is he?” He stared into the blue eyes of his would-be assassin.

The young man stared back, full of fury.

“Relieve him of his weapon,” Mal commanded, and a guard wrenched the knife from his fist. “Now, all of you may leave, for I’d like to have a few words with our guest in private.”

“But, but . . . sir, he, he—” the head of the guard stammered.

“Is now unarmed, and knows full well that all of you will be standing outside the doors, your long knives and swords readied. Isn’t that correct?”

The young man grunted in response.

Mal waved for the guard to leave, and reluctantly they filed out.

Only once the door shut behind them did Mal speak again, qu
ietly. “Been wondering when I might see you, Sonoforen. Figured your gold may have run out by now, and with your mother dying last season, it was just a matter of time. Interesting attempt to disguise yourself, but I must point out, it was unnecessary. You don’t look anything like him and no one would think a moment about you. Disappointing. I had hoped you would have a little more forethought than your father. Poor attempt at an execution.”

“Well, you would know all about
executions,
wouldn’t you, Chairman?” the young man seethed.

“Ah,” Mal said easily. “So that’s what you believe, is it? What are you calling yourself these days, anyway?”

“Batalk,” he answered shortly. “My mother’s maiden name.”

“That’s still too obvious,
Sonoforen
Batalk,” Mal sneered. “And that was always
your mother’s name. Oren never married her.”

“He planned to!”

Mal shook his head slowly. “Doesn’t matter what he planned to do. You’re not a legal heir to his throne, even though you’re the oldest son. Neither you nor your younger brother. Where’s Dormin, anyway? Covered in vines and waiting at the grand entrance pretending he’s a tree?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” Sonoforen clenched his fists.

Mal smiled halfway. “Ah, the bonds of brotherhood. Did he bind you first, or did you bind him?”

“I’m here to take back my throne!”

“You may have it,” Mal nodded casually. “Perhaps you noticed as you passed it on the way in, near the grand entrance? A reminder of the neglect and abuses of your ancestors. Get a few friends and haul it out of here.”

Sonoforen slammed his hands down on the desk and bellowed, “I want to be king!”

Mal nonchalantly straightened up a few piles that were disturbed by the outburst.

“I’m sure you do,” he said in a jaded tone. “Someone like you believes the world owes him something, although he’s done nothing to deserve it. Typical. So you thought killing me would let you b
ecome king? That this world which has embraced our government, rejoiced in our reforms, and sends us letters of gratitude each week would simply accept your killing me and restore you to a throne you have no right to?
Hmm?
” Mal shook his head slowly. “Astounding how you simply don’t realize that it’s that very lack of intelligence that destroyed your family’s claim to rule this world to begin with.”

Sonoforen breathed heavily, furiously, then, as the reality of what Mal said sank in, slower until even his shoulders sagged in d
efeat.

Mal sat back and evaluated him. Sonoforen had a modicum of intelligence. Not as much as his younger brother, but enough to make him a trainable mutt. “I understand your anger, boy, but I a
ssure you—you’re fury is not with me.”

“You ordered the execution squad!”

“Is that what they told you? Oh, Sonoforen.” He sighed. “You and I both cling to a shaky existence. Our futures are only as secure as we plot them to be. Sit down, son.” He gestured to a chair near his desk.

Sonoforen considered the unexpected bone offered him. He sat down warily, never taking his eyes off the Chairman.

“Your father was betrayed
not
by me, his most trusted adviser,” Mal whispered, “but by someone else close to him: the High General. Sonoforen, very few men know this, but Shin was planning a violent overthrow of your father. Fortunately I heard of it. I stopped him before he not only had your father killed, but the entire mansion staff along with you, your brother, and your mother. Shin was furious after that incident at the silk shops, and was ready to begin another war over it. I spent hours reasoning with him. One of my most trusted friends, Dr. Brisack, also helped me to talk sense into the man. I argued to dispose quietly of your father in some remote village somewhere, but Shin wouldn’t hear of it. He wanted him—and all of you—dead. In the end, he agreed that your father’s death would suffice, and that he trusted only someone such as me to now lead the world. Shin gave me the list of who should be Administrators and what kinds of laws we could enact. It was the only way to prevent war, Sonoforen. Your father died nobly, son, to save the world. I’m here only to try to keep Shin from total control. Your argument is not with me, but with Relf Shin.”

Sonoforen remained motionless. “They told me that’s the story you’d give.”

Mal smiled kindly to show the dog who really
cared for him. “And who is ‘they’?”

“My father’s servants. Ones I found not long ago.”

“Think about this, son. I’m an old man, a university professor of animal behavior, and never held a blade in my life. Shin is more fearsome in his fifties than he ever was in his twenties, and is in command of more than ten thousand soldiers. Who,
really
, is the greater threat?”

Sonoforen sighed.

“It’s a difficult balance I keep with the High General, Sonoforen. Right now I have just slightly more power than he does. Without my administrators, the army would be ruling this world, and that is not a world either of us would want to live in.”

Sonoforen squirmed. “Then he needs to die,” he whispered.

Mal nodded once. “But that would be very difficult to do. Especially with the way you do things. What animal is waiting outside to swift you away from the scene of your crime? A goat?”

Sonoforen just stared at the desk.

“A sheep, then,” Mal said sadly. “Sonoforen, Shin is a strong, cunning man. You’d never succeed. Not without help.”

“I’d do anything,” Sonoforen said, lifting his eyes to meet Mal’s. “Work with anyone, do anything, to get my revenge.”

“Are you serious about that?”

“He killed my father!” Sonoforen barked. “Denied me my throne!”

Mal’s mouth pursed. “What kind of a relationship do you still have with Dormin?”

“None,” Sonoforen murmured.

“Any other connections with family? Girlfriend? Friends? Acquaintances?”

“Chairman Mal, if you’re trying to figure out who I have wai
ting outside to help me the answer is . . . no one,” Sonoforen muttered in embarrassment. “Not even an animal. My cat ran away last week.”

“So you were just charging in here and hoping to . . . wing it?”

“You’re point is well made,
sir!
”

Mal clasped his hands together and rested them on the desk. A desperate, homeless mutt. Perfect.

“Sonoforen, how would you like to get your revenge? Not through a rash, ill-thought out plan, but in a rational, organized, and effective manner which will yield results that will not only appease your desires but will also lend me a great deal of research?”

Sonoforen blinked. “What
in the world
are you talking about?”

“First, we change your name to something less obvious. How does Heth strike you?”  The corner of Mal’s mouth went up slightly. “Then tell me what you know about Guarders.”

-
--

Mahrree sighed for the twelfth time. Usually it was the six-year-olds in her morning class that couldn’t concentrate for more than five minutes, not the eight teenage girls in the afternoons.

“If you really want to know that much about the captain, you should have come to the debate!” she chided as Hitty asked yet a
nother question about how many medals he had on his uniform. Mahrree hadn’t noticed. “Now, we need to get back to our discussion—”

Hitty raised her hand again.

Mahrree groaned.

“Really, Miss Mahrree, this has to do with the discussion.”

“Do you
remember
what the discussion was about?”

Hitty nodded. “The history of the Guarders.”

“Good. Now remember, many of your parents contacted me this morning to make sure we went over it, considering that the fort will soon be ready. They’ll be quizzing you tonight, so understanding the nature of the Guarders is not only vital to your welfare, but also to your passing this class. Be grateful, because we
were
to be discussing developments in sugar production in the south. So Hitty, I will happily answer any questions regarding Guarders.”

Hitty put her hand down and tossed her straw-colored hair b
ehind her, as she did every five minutes. “If the Guarders return, and they invade the village, with what hand will the captain fight them? My mother said he wore a very large sword.”

The girls erupted into fits of sniggers as Mahrree practiced her best glare.

Hitty kept her face impressively still, but finally broke into a smile of embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Miss Mahrree,” she whispered.

“His right.” Mahrree sighed for the thirteenth time. “He wore his sword on his left side, so that he can draw it with his right hand.”

“If his sword is large, then that means he’s very strong, right?” Sareen asked in a giggle. The poor girl couldn’t speak without an accompanying giggle, which made her brown curls wiggle.

“Could you tell how strong he was, Miss Mahrree?” asked a
nother dreamy-eyed girl. “You were closest to him. My mother said he was very tall and had a chest like an ox!”

“Ooh, I hope she meant a
bull
,” said another girl, to a variety of tittering.

Mahrree wondered why so many mothers—
married women
—had paid such close attention to him. “Believe it or not, I wasn’t concerned with how strong he might be,” she said sternly. “I was more concerned about his views on education and progress, which we’ll be discussing next week. After we finish learning about
the Guarders!
”

Teeria nodded. “Because without the Guarders, there would be no new fort, and no Captain Shin.” The rest of the class nodded e
agerly back.

Mahrree could always count on Teeria. The girl was as straight and serious as her dark brown hair and somber expression. “You’re right. Because of the Guarders, Captain Shin and a few
more
soldiers—”

Several of the girls sighed in anticipatory delight.

Mahrree plowed on, ignoring that. “—will be living in Edge. Edge, as you recall, was one of the four villages where Guarders were seen retreating into the forests one hundred nineteen years ago, in 200.”