The Forest at the Edge of the World (30 page)

“What a charming cottage!” Mrs. Shin exclaimed as Mahrree led her to the gathering room.

Mahrree always thought of a cottage as something half the size of her house. Maybe the Shins lived in something twice as big?

They sat on the small sofa and exchanged shallow pleasantries for a time, but Mahrree could see something else was concerning Perrin’s mother. Was it her dress, or her house, or the fact that Mahrree didn’t own a single hat?

After a few minutes Mrs. Shin said, “Mahrree, you seem to be a wonderful woman. I can see why Tabbit told me I’d approve, and I am so happy you love my son. But there’s something I really should explain to you.”

Mahrree nodded apprehensively. “Go ahead.”

Mrs. Shin studied her hands. “Being married to a man in this army will not be easy. As much as he may adore you,” she looked into Mahrree’s eyes, “you’ll always come second. His duty to his government and our civilization comes first. They’re simply more important than you,” she said sadly. “I’m sorry to put it in such a blunt manner, but you should be prepared, so that you . . . in case you—”

Mahrree knew what she hesitated to say. “In case I want to change my mind?”

Mrs. Shin nodded uneasily. 

Mahrree sighed and now looked down at her hands. “I’ve heard that before, Mrs. Shin, from your aunt Tabbit shortly after our e
ngagement. It was on her mind, too. He’s told me before he’s here first to defend Edge. I come second. I don’t like that, but I understand it.”

“No, my dear. You don’t,” she said sorrowfully. “The first time he’s taken from you in the night and you hear nothing from him, you’ll realize you weren’t ready for that.”

Even though she couldn’t imagine changing her mind about marrying Perrin now, Mahrree wished she had more time to think about it. But she knew how she felt, and didn’t all married couples have troubles now and then?

“Mrs. Shin, I appreciate that you want me to be warned and I’ll accept any advice you can offer me on how to be married to an o
fficer named Shin.”

Mrs. Shin smiled and squeezed her hand. “I think you should consider this—
really
consider—at least for the night. Mahrree, please understand: the man you marry this week may change dramatically. The first time he has to take a life, you will feel some of his own life leave him. It’s nature’s way. It’s the Creator’s way. Even if it’s necessary, a good man will feel it. It’s the evil men who feel nothing.”

Of course that was why he was here, what he’d been training for. Conflict. But somehow Mahrree never imagined it would be her husband directly
in
it. She just thought he looked striking in his uniform riding a horse and brandishing his sword. That he would actually use that sword on another person or bloody that uniform—. 

She shuddered inside. She had known it the entire time, but b
eing caught up in the excitement of planning a wedding made it easy to ignore the important factors that she convinced herself were inconsequential. Still, she couldn’t imagine any other future.

“You can still change your mind,” Mrs. Shin said gently. “As much as I want him to be married, I don’t want either of you to r
egret that marriage.”

After a silent moment Mahrree said, “Mrs. Shin, I can’t imagine ever wanting to be with anyone else. And I’ve imagined a lot over the years. If it’s not him, then it’s no one. I prefer him to nothing.”

Mrs. Shin sighed and patted her arm. “That’s a good answer, but I still want you to give it until tomorrow. I’ll call on you in the morning, and we can talk some more. Until then, some men outside think we’re discussing only trivial wedding details, so we best not disappoint them.”

After five minutes of wedding talk—primarily Mahrree explai
ning with some embarrassment how Hycymum was embellishing the light blue dress she made for the wedding with darker blue and gold highlights that she thought would match Perrin’s uniform, and Mrs. Shin nodding politely as if making a wedding dress match an army dress uniform wasn’t the most peculiar fashion idea she’d ever heard—Perrin knocked gently on the door frame.

“Mother, the general says it’s time to be moving on to the fort. Apparently you’ve made arrangements?”

Mrs. Shin clapped her hands on her knees. “Yes, I have! Mahrree, will you please accompany me outside?”

Mahrree gave Perrin a confused look, and he returned it.

Mrs. Shin led Mahrree outside and right up to the waiting general.

She changed her mind about her first evaluation—he
was
tall.

“Relf, this is Mahrree,” Mrs. Shin announced, “your soon-to-be daughter-in-law. Since it’s such a fine day I think it most appropriate that you should walk her to the fort for the inspection. This will give me some time to spend with my son. We won’t be far behind you. We’ll send the coach on ahead.”

Perrin and Mahrree’s eyes grew large as they stared at each other. Perrin opened his mouth to say something but his father was faster.

“Miss?” he offered his arm to Mahrree and she took it without thinking. “Shall we go, my dear? You may lead the way.” But the general stepped first anyway.

Mahrree glanced back to see Perrin’s face contort in concern. His mother took his arm and patted it gently as his future bride was led away by his father.

The general’s voice brought her back around, not allowing her any time to panic that she was now walking with the most powerful and terrifying soldier in the world.

“I was told in the coach ride from Idumea that I’m to make my acquaintance with you today, because my wife needs to speak to her son about his marriage. Apparently there are things
she
knows that a man who has been married for thirty years simply doesn’t know to tell his son.”

His tone was formal but Mahrree thought she heard just a bit of Perrin’s sense of humor in it. Mahrree laughed gently, stopped, and glanced at the general to see if that was appropriate.

He didn’t look angry or make any movements towards his sword, so she took that as a good sign.

She desperately tried to think of something to say, but it was if the shelves of her mind marked “conversation starters” were filled only with cobwebs and a surprised spider who never expected to see someone there. She’d never imagined this scenario, hanging on the arm of the High General of Idumea trying desperately to think of how to impress him by not sounding like an idiot.

There seemed to be an unusually high amount of traffic on the main road to the fort. Word of the massive black coach must have gotten around. It was as if every soldier, villager and supplier of goods was coming or going to catch a glimpse of the High General and the very uncomfortable younger woman with him. She’d never noticed how often someone like him had to return a salute or tip his cap, and she wondered if his right arm was stronger than his left from how often it went up and down. She opened her mouth hoping something suitable would find its way out, when the general spoke.

“I understand you’re a teacher.” His deep voice sounded like gravel when a herd of cattle stampeded across it.

He likely
caused
stampedes, Mahrree mused, merely by walking past a ranch and muttering, “Puts me in mind for steak.”

“Yes, sir,” she answered, relieved for a topic. “I’ve been teac
hing for seven years now. Two different ages.”

“And you enjoy this work?”

“Yes, very much. I find it most rewarding.”

“Then you’re not the kind that’s interested in cloth or decora
ting?”

Mahrree chuckled. “No, sir. Do you think Perrin would want to marry a woman who was? All you need to do is look at my garden to see how little I care about such things.”

“Yes, I’m sorry about your yard. It looks as if someone’s sheep was carelessly let into it. I’m sure it usually looks . . . lovely.” The way he stumbled on that last word made it clear that it was not part of the general’s regular vocabulary.

“Truly sir, it is never ‘lovely.’ And it was a goat. I love books and ideas. The person in my family interested in decorating is my mother.”

The general nodded. “Yes, I’m aware of that. She sent me a letter recently.”

If words could hang suspended in the air like thick black clouds, these words did.

“No!” Mahrree whispered, louder than she intended. She glanced up again at the general.

He wore a barely discernible smile. “Yes, apparently Captain Shin told her that forts aren’t in need of decorating, and any changes to the plans would have to be approved by me. Hence the letter.”

Mahrree closed her eyes in agony.

“She sent me a sample of cloth with a new pattern called ‘plaid’ that she claims is ‘very masculine’ and she believes would be appr
opriate for the barracks and Captain Shin’s office.”

Mahrree opened her eyes. The fort was still torturously far away. This was the longest quarter mile she had ever walked.

But there was still more. “Mrs. Peto is under the impression that the large observation windows should have the option of being covered. And pillows for troops should be . . . ‘attractive,’ is how I think she phrased it.”

Mahrree had an image of her mother trying to teach dirty and exhausted soldiers how to place their tasseled pillows so they looked ‘gently lived in.’

“Oh General, please say no more! I can’t even
begin
to tell you how sorry I am. I, I . . .” she stammered.

“As long as I know I needn’t be concerned that you will attempt to carry on her efforts?”

“Never, sir! And I will do my best to keep my mother in check.”

The general actually smiled—barely.

“Miss Mahrree, I don’t know that we can ever keep our parents in check, nor our children.”

Sensing they now shared a tiny bit of common ground, she co
nfessed, “My mother actually wanted you and Mrs. Shin to stay with her during your visit. She has a nice home, just a little crowded—”

And Mahrree couldn’t, in any situation, imagine the High Ge
neral of Idumea agreeing to sleep under a blanket painted with daisies that coordinated with the daisy rug, daisy curtains, and daisy pillows.

“—I told her you will be staying at the guest quarters at the fort, but she’s insisting on having you over for dinner one evening. She’s a most creative cook, but if that doesn’t fit into your schedule . . .” Mahrree held her breath, waiting for the answer.

“We dine with her tomorrow. That was in the last letter she sent.”

“Oh, sir,” Mahrree murmured wretchedly, “how many letters has she sent you?”

“I think eleven. I may have lost count.”

Mahrree checked the distance to the fort again. If she made it there alive without dying from absolute humiliation, she could ha
ndle just about anything.

“I suppose I should tell you,” the general continued quietly, “that I was rather startled when my son wrote that he wanted to ma
rry. I didn’t think there was someone who could ever be considered his equal, especially not someone raised in
Edge.”

Mahrree squinted, trying to figure out if she had just been co
mplimented or insulted. It felt like both.

“Of course, his mother said the fact that he found someone who would put up with his obnoxiousness only signified that miracles are still occurring in the world.”

She looked at him sidelong and saw another faint smile.

Compliment.

Maybe.

“I assure you, sir, ever since we announced our engagement many in Edge now also have a greater belief in the Creator. My mother, for one. All the girls I grew up with, the men I’ve insulted over the years . . .”

The High General smiled more distinctly. “He’s an exceptional man, Miss Peto. In many ways.”

“I’m discovering that he is, sir. I’m very fond of him.”

“And apparently he thinks highly of you, as well.”

“I hope he does, sir.”

The High General nodded once. “Well. Then. I suppose that’s
that
, then.”

Mahrree wondered what ‘that’ was all the rest of the way to the fort.

-
--

Captain Shin stood at attention with the rest of his soldiers, facing High General Shin. Their backs were to the forest, the tall timbers of the fort providing an impenetrable shield. For the past fifteen minutes the men had stood with their chests out, chins up, and eyes focused on a distant nothing while General Shin walked up and down the line inspecting each man, questioning a few on tactics, and seeing just how long a slight private could endure the large officer’s hard gaze before swallowing nervously.

Two minutes.

Very commendable.

“But know that Guarders will stare at you for far longer than that!” the High General shouted at the soldiers. “But you are the
might and strength of the Army of Idumea!” He stepped away from the line and turned to face the northeast gates, thrown wide open to reveal the forest behind.