The Forest at the Edge of the World (41 page)

    
If you find yourself unable to follow all of the established rules of the army, and insist on performing in a reckless manner, a new career will be decided for you.

Captain Shin’s left hand formed a fist as he reread those words. That last sentence
may
have come from his father. Or perhaps even his mother, he considered with a dour smile. He sighed and reread the small note that had been attached under General Cush’s official signature.

Take care of that wife of yours and keep her safe from the storms. The sky here is frequently cloudy and dark as of late.

By the way, son—excellent work. RS.

Perrin smiled, peeled the note off the wax attachment and slipped it into his pocket. Then he put the official message on top of the cabinets behind him, planning to “accidentally” nudge it later so that it would fall into the oblivion between the cabinet and the wall.

He pulled out the next message from the packet from Idumea and reread it. He scratched his chin, still puzzled.

Wiles was missing, and High General Shin had sent out yet a
nother message to all forts asking them to inquire with their local law enforcers for additional clues as to what may have happened.

Ever since the captain and the lieutenant emerged from the fo
rest—filthy and scratched, but alive and defiant—and Perrin announced to Wiles and the master sergeant, “We can conquer that forest! I
know
it,” Wiles had been as pale as a first season private.

Two days after the Guarder attack and the suicides of the pri
soners, Wiles didn’t even send a messenger to explain his absence yet again in the tower.

Perrin and Karna went looking for him and discovered him in his quarters, clutching his chest. They rushed him to the hospital wing and watched anxiously as the surgeon and his assistant tried to help the old sergeant major calm down his rapid breathing.

That’s when the message arrived from Idumea, and was delivered to the captain at the hospital.

Chairman Nicko Mal, concerned about the health of his old friend so near the forest, ordered that Wiles be returned to Idumea to retire immediately with full honors. The message was accompanied by release papers signed by the High General.

Perrin thought the offer of retirement was a surprisingly benevolent gesture. But curiously Wiles’s breathing became even more labored, and his chest pains more severe, when he heard that Mal wanted to bring him home.

Even though they lay him in the fort coach that evening to make his ride as comfortable as possible, the weakened Wiles seemed more restless than ever. They even sent a surgeon’s aid along to care for him during the long two nights and one day ride to Idumea.

But when the coach arrived outside of Pools for another change of horses late at night, Wiles was no longer in the coach. His crate with his possessions was still in there, but no sergeant major.

The soldiers driving the coach and the surgeon’s aid inside were baffled. They hadn’t seen or heard anything unusual, and when they changed horses outside of Vines, Wiles was finally sleeping on the carriage bench. The surgeon’s aid had nodded off to sleep for a well-deserved break, waking only when the carriage stopped for the next horse change.

That was three days ago, and still nothing had been heard about the sergeant major. High General Shin had thoroughly interrogated the soldiers and the surgeon’s aid, and was confident all three men were as innocent as they trembled to be. Soldiers from Pools to Vines and even up to Midplain were dispatched to check the roads, thinking that perhaps Wiles had become disoriented and tried to leave the coach while it was moving, but they found no clues.

That struck Perrin as exceptionally odd. The main road to Idumea was well-travelled. And even though the coach travelled at night, to get Wiles as quickly as possible to the surgeons at the garr
ison, it was difficult to imagine that
no one
would have noticed an old man’s body lying on the side of the road. At this time of year all the fields, farm after farm all the way to Idumea, were filled with workers bringing in the harvest.

Wiles had simply vanished. Just like people had vanished years ago, when the Guarders were most active.

Guarder snatched
, as the more paranoid liked to claim.

A string of words he uttered just minutes ago replayed the
mselves suddenly in Perrin’s head. “Guarders dressing up in blue uniforms . . .”

His stunned whisper faded into nothing.

No.

No. That
couldn’t
be possible. That wouldn’t be
imagined.
Wiles had been around for years. That would mean that
anyone
. . .
any time
. . . and they could be
anywhere
. . . then they could—

He dropped the message as if it burned his fingers, and stared out at the forest for a very long time.

-
--

That night he was very quiet as he lay in bed next to his wife.

“You’ve been lost in thought all evening,” Mahrree gently prodded him. “What’s wrong?”

It took him another minute to answer her. “Had a thought, earlier. At the fort.”

Mahrree tried to keep her sigh quiet. Dawn was only about eight hours away, and at this rate it would take her hours to get him to a
rticulate his thought. “About . . .?”

“Wiles.”

Ah, some progress, and faster than she expected. “About him still missing? About—”

Another long pause. “Who he
really
was.”

Now Mahrree went silent, lost in worry. “What do you mean?”

“What if . . . what if he was
one of them
?”

Mahrree huddled closer to her husband, and he put a protective arm around her. “But . . . but that wouldn’t make any sense. He’s been around for years, right? It’s not like he suddenly showed up volunteering to serve in the army.”

Perrin’s shoulders relaxed. “True, true. He’s always been here. I keep reminding myself of that.”

“Why would you have to remind yourself?” she asked, grateful he was holding her. “I mean, if you thought he was one of them, that would mean he infiltrated the army years ago. That he’s been living among us for decades. Why, why that’s
ridiculous
!” Her tone wasn’t as light as she hoped it would be.

“Yes. Ridiculous,” he answered in a monotone. “But
what if
?”

“Then . . .  then . . . it’s all over!” she whimpered. “We have no hope! They know everything about us, they can destroy us in an i
nstant—”

“But they
haven’t
,” he reminded her. “If they really have infiltrated the army—the
world
—then why haven’t they taken us over? Why haven’t they destroyed us?”

Mahrree sighed in frustration. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“It never has, remember? No, the more I think about it, the more I’m sure—Wiles wasn’t one of
them
. None of them are among us. It was just a stray thought that I gave too much attention. Wiles was just a regular old man who met an unfortunate end. That’s all. Sorry to bother you with the idea. Good night, my darling wife.”

Mahrree lay awake for hours listening to her husband softly snoring. Finally she decided that if he wasn’t worried, she shouldn’t be either.

It was one of the worst nights she ever endured, and she wasn’t even nauseated.

Chapter 20 ~ “Doorknob, I don’t
want
to see everything differently.”

“
I
can’t stand it anymore,” Mahrree announced to Perrin over breakfast.

He sighed and said, as he did each morning for the past four weeks. “Yes, my darling wife, you
can
. And you must.”

“But why?” she whined.

He put down his fork. “To be sure, remember? Just in case it’s not what we think?”

She nibbled on her bread, the only thing she could tolerate in the mornings. “But what else could it be?”

“I really
don’t know.” He smiled. “For now it’s just our little secret. Rather fun to keep between just the two of us, isn’t it? Besides, you’d be heartbroken if you told everyone and suddenly it wasn’t going to happen, right?”

“You’re right, you’re right.”

“
Love it
when you have to admit that.” He chuckled as he took a big bite of potatoes.

Mahrree looked away from his plate filled with bacon, potatoes, and scrambled eggs. It was a good thing he was adept at cooking himself a big breakfast each morning.

Strangely, she found herself repulsed by the texture of food. And the smell of food. And the taste of food—

“Four more weeks, Mahrree. That’s all. That’s what we deci
ded, remember?”

“I remember, I remember.” 

It was the most sensible thing, but she simply didn’t
feel
sensible. She alternated between feeling joyful and jubilant, and woozy and weepy. But, in an effort to feign sensibility, she behaved as if she felt fine even though she was sick each morning and dizzy each afternoon.

But sometimes what she felt was overwhelming. Whenever she saw anything remotely sentimental she began to tear up. Just last week Mahrree and Perrin went out for an evening stroll to enjoy the Harvest Season air when she noticed a little boy on the side of the road playing with a tiny kitten. Just as Perrin started to pull her away, she broke out of his grip and rushed over to croon at the scene. She knew her behavior was completely irrational, but the little boy and kitten were just
so
cute!

“
Cute?
” Perrin mumbled as he led her away. “Since when do
you
use the word ‘cute’?”

“Should I have said ‘adorable’?”

“Neither of those words was on my mother’s list.”

After that, Perrin began to develop avoidance strategies, or so Mahrree assumed that might be the official term for his behavior. On Holy Day yesterday, a new mother offered to let Mahrree hold her baby girl at the meeting. The infant was in her arms for only a m
inute when Mahrree began to sniff and grow weepy.

“Ah, must be those allergies, again, huh Mahrree? We better get you home,” Perrin said with a tone of hinting. “Before your eyes puff up again. Oh dear, looks like they already are. Let’s get going before you bloat and frighten that baby.
Now
.”

Mahrree noticed several of the older women smiling in her d
irection as they quickly left. They weren’t fooling them, and the fact that they suspected what Mahrree and Perrin suspected filled her with even more hope that all their suspicions were correct.

---

Lieutenant Heth heard the quiet knock on the door, but suspected it was for a room further down the dormitory. At such a late hour, there was only one kind of visitor that would dare lurk in the halls. And she was obviously lost.

It wasn’t until the third time he heard the soft knock that he b
egan to suspect it was for his room. His roommates were snoring, so obviously none of them were expecting someone. Reluctantly he got out of his bed, lit a candle, and snuck over to the door. When he opened it, he sneered.

“What are
you
doing here?!” He looked his visitor up and down with a critical eye.

“Nice to see you too, Sonoforen,” Dormin whispered as he ducked into the room.

“Hey, I didn’t invite you in.”

“
Shh. And don’t worry, I’m not looking for a place to sleep in Idumea. I just wanted to talk to you. Some place private?”

Heth sighed and gestured to his bed. “My roommates could sleep through a wrestling match. I know that for a fact,” he sniggered quietly.

His brother sat on the edge of the bed without commenting.

Heth sat a few feet away from him. “So what do you want?”

“To know what you’re doing,” Dormin said. “I’ve been looking for you for weeks.”

“And that brought you all the way to Idumea? I thought you were afraid to be seen.” In the dim light he eyed his younger brot
her’s dark concealing and ill-fitting clothes, untrimmed blonde hair that was covered by a sloppy hat, and scruffy boots. “You look like a rubbish remover.”

“That’s because I am. And yes, I
am
worried about being recognized. I move only at night. Twice I’ve been stopped by soldiers wondering what I was up to.”

“Hope you gave them an interesting story to think about during their long night shifts,” Heth leered.

Dormin sighed. “You always were so simple-minded. I don’t know why I bother.”

“I don’t either. So leave.”

Dormin folded his hands. “I promised someone I would at least try. Sonoforen—”

“It’s Heth, now.”

His brother rolled his eyes. “Call yourself whatever you want, it doesn’t change who you are unless you change yourself.”

“And you never made any sense,” Heth rolled his eyes back. “Look, I’ve got early classes—”

“Yes, exactly
how
are you paying for all of this?”

“How did you even know I was here?”

“There was a message delivered to our aunt’s house from Chairman Mal, of all people, asking how I was doing.
He said you were in Command School! I don’t get it—how are you paying for this?”

“Gold,” Heth said easily.

“Whose?”

“Mine. Never told you this, but I had a stash, as the Little King. Great Grandmother set it aside for me, in case I should ever need it. After mother died, I decided I needed it. Apparently Great Gran
dmother didn’t leave any gold for you.”

Dormin sighed. “Figures. Where was it hiding?”

“I’m not going to tell you.”

“So there’s more?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know!”

“Not really. I don’t need it. I’m just glad to hear that . . .” Dormin paused to find the right words, “you’re doing something useful with your life, finding a way to be productive, to return to the civilization that has given you so much.”

His brother scoffed. “Doormat, you sound like an old man, you know that?”

“Maybe it’s because I’ve been spending a lot of time with an old man.”

Heth sneered. “Really? Why? Can’t get any girls to talk to you.”

Dormin took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling. “
Knew
this was going to be useless—”

“Yep,” Heth nodded. “No girls.”

Dormin clenched his fists. “Sonof—Heth, why are you here?”

“Why not?”

“I mean, what possessed you to join the army? I thought you hated Mal. And Shin was the one who had our father executed!”

“Nothing better to do,” Heth said dismissively. “Exactly why are
you
here?”

Dormin took a deep breath. “Last time we spoke I told you that I was going to read The Writings. Well, I did. I know why Great Grandmother hated it so much. She was the very embodiment of evil The Writings warn against.”

Heth chuckled. “Yeah, she was a piece of work, wasn’t she? They discussed her in one of my classes. I really didn’t know how tough an old bird she was. Took all my self control to not puff up in pride.”

“She’s not something to
admire
, Sonof—Heth.” He sighed again. “My point is, there’s a better way to live. There’s so much in The Writings about how the Creator—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa—I know what this is. You’re trying to get me to read The Writings, aren’t you?!”

Dormin shrugged. “It’s just that I’ve gained so much—”

“Oh,
please
,” Heth snickered. “Don’t start, just don’t start any of that nonsense. You know what believing in The Writings does? It makes you blind! You don’t think for yourself—”

“Stop right there!” Dormin said, almost too loudly. “I think very well for myself. I’ve been doing all kinds of thinking, and I’m thin
king our family has never done anything right. Our father never thought about anyone but himself, he—”

“He was
your father!
” Heth hissed. “How dare you speak against him?”

“No, I’m not speaking against him,” Dormin defended. “I’m trying to point out that he simply didn’t understand. He never had a chance to be something better, because he didn’t know. I loved him, and now I have even more respect for him. He should have been more horrible, considering it was his grandmother who had his mother killed, and then she controlled his every move. But he really
did
try. He could have been good, but he was manipulated by those who never taught him to think. Sonoforen, The Writings have been teaching me to think, to test all things, to ponder, to—”

“Become a bag full of nuts!” his brother finally cut him off. “That’s what you are, you know that? You’ve been talking to a re
ctor, haven’t you?”

“I have!” Dormin said eagerly, “and he’s the one who—”

“Doo-doo Droppings,” Heth said sadly, calling his brother the name he came up with when he was eight. “And you came all this way to—”

“Try to get you to listen. Look, we can fix things. We could do great things for the world, give back for all that we took.”

“I am,” Heth said coldly. “I’ll be giving back all kinds of things. And when I’m done in two more years, I
will
fix everything in the world.”

Dormin leaned back. “Why do I get the feeling that while we’re saying the same things, we’re meaning the opposite?”

“Are you about finished here? Because it’s late.”

Dormin reached into a pack on his back and pulled out a bound set of parchments. “I want to give this to you, have you read it.
Think about—”

His brother snatched it out of his hands and peered at the title in the dim light. “As if I don’t have enough reading to do . . . Oh, I am not bothering with
this
, Doorpost.”

“I’m not asking for a bed, or for gold, or for anything else. I’m
merely asking you to read this. Please. It just may change the way you see everything.”

“Doorknob, I don’t
want
to see everything differently,” Heth said as he shoved the book back into his brother’s hands. “I like what I see in my future. And you don’t happen to be in it.”

“But what if you can see things
better
? Wouldn’t that be worth finding out?”

“Look,
Doorhead—”

“That one never even made any sense!” Dormin spouted, losing his patience. “What’s that supposed to mean:
Doorhead?”

Heth sneered. “Just always said it to irritate you. You’re seve
nteen years old now—”

“Twenty-one!”

“—and it
still
works. Look, I realize you came a long way, and what makes it even more pathetic is that it was for nothing. I’m happy. You obviously aren’t. Maybe you’re the one who needs to see things differently. Now, if you’re finally done, get out. They’ve been doing surprise inspections in the middle of the night and it would be so
tragic
to find that Dormin, King Oren’s youngest son, was found breaking into the university dormitories. So many questions would be asked . . .”

Dormin stood up, The Writings clutched in his hands. “I’d hoped this would go better.”

Heth shrugged. “Don’t know why.”

“Because you’re my brother. I worry about you. And I . . . love you,” he stumbled.

“Ew,” Heth cringed. “All right, it’s
definitely
time for you to get out.” He stood up and headed straight for the door.

His younger brother nodded. “Well then, that’s it. I tried. I failed, but I tried,” he mumbled as he got up. “I might never see you again.”

“That’s fine, Doorgirl,” Heth said, pushing him on the back towards the hallway.

“What’s
that
supposed to mean: ‘Doorgirl’? I never got that either!”

“There are a
lot
of things you don’t get, Dormaniac. If ever I see you again, I’ll make you a list.”