The Forest at the Edge of the World (50 page)

He made his way back to the sofa and wrapped himself in the thick blanket. The fire was dying away on the hearth, but he didn’t need it. No matter how warm the room was, he was filled with an inner chill that wouldn’t subside until he saw his nephew come walking through the door. Hogal went back to what he was doing for the past three hours, the real reason he likely was there.

“Dear Creator, protect him, guide him, help him. He has no idea what he’s up against, nor the great things that await him. Please watch over him, strengthen him, and send him help. Dear Creator, protect him . . .”

Upstairs, Jaytsy slept peacefully spread out on Perrin’s side of the bed. And, despite herself and her worry, Mahrree slept more soundly than she had since before she was expecting her firstborn.

She dreamed of children, gardens, and a large wooden house with window boxes filled with herb plants.

---

He was perspiring heavily now, the tension of the moment lasting excruciatingly minute after minute. He was getting closer to something, but to what he didn’t know. Perrin only knew to let his boots guide him.

His hands began to feel cold, the nervous sweat of his palms seeping through the gloves and freezing. He frequently flexed his fingers on the bow to make sure they would still move properly for when he finally saw his last targets.

He wasn’t normally the kind of man to fall prey to his anxiety, but he couldn’t deny his increasing jitteriness. Passing a loud spout that shot hot water into the air more than irritated him. And the loud belching of the earth infuriatingly drowned out all kinds of sounds he needed to hear. Beyond him a few dozen paces was another gap in the ground that coughed constantly, again too loudly for him to notice anyone’s footsteps.

But then again, the noise also masked his noise. Sweat trickled down his face, and he would have removed his knit cap except that he feared his black hair would stand out too much against the whit
eness of the laden pine trees.

Then it came to him distinctly—the urge to turn to his right and look deep into the woods.

There they were running, two of them, as if being chased. They glanced behind them nervously, their pursuer as yet unseen by Perrin. He tensed again, in case a mountain lion or wolf appeared behind them. He could take out the attacking animal first—to make sure he didn’t become its prey—then the Guarders.

He had such an unobstructed view of them, still about two hu
ndred paces out and illuminated dimly by the light of the moons, that he smiled faintly at the singularity of the site. There couldn’t be any other section of the entire forest so clear and devoid of trees.

He
sighted in the men, running nearly in a panic as they approached him. Behind them he saw nothing threatening that needed his first arrow. Whatever had been pursuing had apparently broken off the chase. He took a deep breath, let out half of it, then released the arrow. It flew true, striking the first Guarder in the chest.

“Eleven!” Perrin whispered as he pulled out another arrow and nocked it.

But the same moons’ light that illuminated the Guarder also shown down on Perrin. The Guarder cut hard to his left, ducking behind a cluster of boulders, and Perrin’s arrow bounced harmlessly off of them.

He threw down his bow and pulled out one of his long knives. He dove behind a stand of scrubby shrubs and looked at either side of the boulders, waiting to see which way the Guarder would sneak out.

He waited for fifteen seconds. Thirty. Forty-five.

Nothing.

Either the Guarder was waiting for Perrin to reveal himself, or he had already slipped out of his hiding place and was coming around to meet the man in white.

Perrin spun around, his heart pounding near his throat, checking every shadow for someone to lunge out at him.

“Guide me, guide me, guide me,” he whispered as he looked around, impatient to find the last threat to his wife and children.

Then he saw the movement that, under any other circumstance, he was sure he would have missed. But there it was, a black shadow in the distance taking off in a quiet jog down towards the south and the village.

The twelfth Guarder.

“I see you!” Perrin grinned furiously and took off in pursuit. He had so much pent up anxiety that it propelled him faster than any other being in the world.

The Guarder glanced behind him to see the man in white gaining on him, and took off in a zig-zagging pattern.

Perrin wasn’t deterred. He kept on in a straight shot towards the man who was getting closer to the edge of the woods.

“Go on,
run
to my soldiers! In either case, number twelve, I win tonight!”

The man tried to cut around a large boulder, but he slipped,
twisting his leg and going down in a loud grunt of pain.

Perrin was by his side just moments later, his blade brandished. He plunged it, almost too eagerly, into the Guarder’s neck.

The man went limp.

Perrin leaped to his feet. “TWELVE!” he bellowed to the forest, his arms held up in triumph. Not only did he conquer the forest, he took out its greatest threat. Twelve fewer Guarders in the world to terrorize and threaten his family.

An odd noise travelled up to him from the forest, and he turned hear it. Every muscle tensed in preparation, but a moment later he relaxed.

It was cheering. The army had heard his shout of “Twelve” and was celebrating with him.

Perrin finally smiled and dropped to his knees a few paces away from the dead man. He looked up at the black sky speckled with stars, grinned, then bowed his head.

“Dear Creator, thank you!” he said quietly. “Thank you for pr
eserving me, for allowing me to be successful, for—”

A twig snapped behind him, muffled under snow.

Never expose your back.
Never
expose your back!

He scrambled for one of his long knives, but the thick arm around his neck was faster. Perrin’s fingers fumbled and dropped the blade. Instantly he felt his throat constrict as the arm tightened around him, and his training kicked in. Don’t bother grabbing the arm choking him—pulling at it would only be in vain. Instead, find another way to divert the attacker.

Perrin groped around his waist to retrieve another long knife, but as soon as he gripped it he felt the familiar sensation of beginning to lose consciousness. Everything in the world of black shadows and white snow turned gray. The body behind him was exceptionally large and heavy, probably specifically matched for him.

Normally Perrin would have thrust the long knife up into the man’s arm, causing him to release his grip. But Perrin could smell the thick black leather covering his attacker’s arm like a shield.

Or like
body armor
, he thought in irritation. Exactly the kind he wanted to fit his soldiers with, but was forbidden to. The leather even appeared to be around the man’s legs—Perrin’s other possible place to stab. But he knew of one spot still likely exposed on the Guarder.

With his last bits of consciousness, Perrin lunged backwards, trying to throw off his attacker’s balance, and wishing he wasn’t still stuck on his knees. He was successful for only a moment, but it was enough to loosen the man’s grip and allow Perrin a shortened gasp of air.

He knew he had only moments left. Perrin shifted his grip on the long knife and thrust it blindly behind him over his shoulder where he hoped his attacker wasn’t expecting it.

Right into the Guarder’s face.

He heard a low cry of pain in his ear, followed by a wheeze. The muscular arm around his neck suddenly released, and Perrin scrambled to his feet, coughing to refill his lungs.

He turned to face his attacker, a beast of man in black clothing who was bleeding heavily from a deep slash in his cheek and—surprisingly—was laying flat on his back in the snow.

Perrin’s air-deprived head swirled, but he grabbed a tree branch with his free hand to steady himself. The man in the snow was lying far too still from having received just a knife in the cheek. Perrin kicked at his leg, but it didn’t move. He glanced around, then took hesitant step towards the body.

The thirteenth Guarder was dead, because of a second gash near the base of his throat.

Perrin fought to regain control of his breathing. He had hit the man only once with his long knife—he
knew
that.

Yet there were
two
wounds on him.

Perrin looked wildly around. “What’s this all about?!” he shou
ted raspily, no longer worried about who else might be lurking in the forest. “Are you after my wife and children? Whose side are you on anyway? Show yourself!”

“Gladly,” said a cold voice from behind another cluster of trees.

Guarder number fourteen.

He charged Perrin, his toothed blade out and ready. Perrin bent down, snatched another long knife from his boot, and readied his stance. Two blades in two fists.

With a screech, the man ran straight for Perrin, hacking wildly. Perrin sidestepped him, delivering a slash across the man’s knife arm that barely penetrated his thick black leather armor. Perrin firmed his stance once more as the enraged Guarder turned and ran towards him again, any discipline he may have had gone as he attacked with pure hatred and no strategy.

Perrin preferred it that way. Enraged men were easy to conquer; it was the ones who channeled that rage into calculated fury that made him nervous.

He stepped forward to meet the Guarder, but his foot hit a slick patch of hardened snow and he abruptly went down just as the Guarder came on him. Perrin struggled to right himself, but not before the Guarder slashed Perrin’s back, cutting so deeply that immediately Perrin knew the white fur coat was damaged beyond repair. His back seared with hot pain that quickly numbed, his flesh gashed open and bleeding.

With a roar, he pushed himself upright again, both knives still in his hands, and lumbered after the Guarder who was turning for a
nother run on the snowy man now bleeding red.

Perrin lunged towards him—faster than the Guarder expected—and thrust one blade into his neck, and the other into his chest. Perrin held his breath as he watched the Guarder take his last one.

This time Perrin didn’t gloat as the body slumped at his feet. Instead he waited, listening for the trees or bushes to tell him there was still another one in hiding.

Thirty seconds passed. A minute. Two minutes.

The forest remained quiet, as did the soldiers at the edge of it. They must have heard his shouting and the Guarder’s yells. And now they waited, wondering what became of their captain.

The familiar tranquility of the forest returned to him, enveloping him with comfort and giving him the assurance that yes, the last threat had been eliminated.

“Thank you,” he whispered to the black sky speckled with white stars. Then he called out hoarsely, “FOURTEEN!”

Again the cheer rose from the barren strip of land that bordered the forests.

Perrin flopped weakly against a tree with white bark. It was then that he remembered he was injured, the trunk of the tree pressing the fact vividly into his mind. Slowly he began to pull himself to his feet, feeling a sudden depth of exhaustion that he’d never before experienced. He took one last look around the forest that, barely two hours ago, had felt comforting.

Oddly, it still did.

He looked closely again at the body of the thirteenth Guarder and felt unnerved by the second wound that killed him. In the dim light it was evident the wound was left by a blade with a straight edge, not a jagged dagger like Guarder number fourteen had brandished.

Perrin felt a chill course through him, with an accompanying thought that he needed to get back to his soldiers, quickly, so they could tend to his injury. The mystery of the second slash on the thi
rteenth Guarder—along with the Guarder with the unexplained chest wound—would have to remain a mystery. A most confounding, overwhelming, fantastic one.

Perrin glanced around one last time, his head beginning to sway with the sensation of losing too much blood too quickly.

“Thank you,” he said again to the forest, wondering if anyone was there to hear it. He stumbled south towards the sounds of cheering soldiers.

---

Back behind a clump of pines, a man in white and gray mottled clothing nodded. “You’re welcome, sir. My pleasure and honor.”

Then he raised his hand, gashed and bleeding, to his forehead in salute.

So did the men behind him.

Chapter 24 ~ “Remarkable the kind of damage a mere tree branch can do,

isn’t it?”
 

“
W
ell, it
was
a lovely coat.” Gizzada sighed as he evaluated the jagged slash drenched in blood.

“It likely saved his life,” the surgeon said, continuing to work. He wore a perpetual scowl of concern on his pasty face. “The thic
kness seemed to keep the dagger from going in too deep. Had he been wearing only his overcoat, he would be in much worse shape right now.”

Captain Shin didn’t say anything as he lay on his bare stomach on the surgeon’s table, since an obliging long block of wood knocked him to the ground ten minutes ago. The surgeon worked quickly while the captain was unconscious, finishing the last of twenty rough stitches just as Perrin began to groan.

“He came out of that a bit faster than I expected, but at least the worst part is over.” He nodded as an assistant handed him thick layers of cotton.

“Karna,” Perrin mumbled.

The lieutenant, who had been watching with a grimace as the surgeon worked, squatted next to the captain. “Right here, sir.”

“How bad?”

“Bad enough to keep you from doing somersaults for a time,” the surgeon said, setting the cotton in place and unrolling long bandages to wrap it. “But you’ll live, as long as you can come up with a convincing story to tell
Mrs.
Shin.”

Perrin groaned loudly, and not because of the stitches in his
back. The snow they had packed over his wound earlier to slow the bleeding and numb the area still had lingering effects.

Gizzada looked sadly at the bloodied coat. “Can’t even give her this as a peace offering. But maybe if it were altered into a tunic . . .”

Karna cleared his throat and shook his head at the staff sergeant.

“And Neeks?” Perrin whispered.

“He required seven stitches in his forearm,” Karna told him, “but he’s already back on duty, making sure the men know the official story before they go to bed.”

“And what’s the story?”

“Only a handful of soldiers saw you come out of the forest looking like a bloody man of snow. They’ve pledged silence to protect your wife. Kind of hard to argue against that. The rest of the men have been told you violated the first rule again, but only to the extent of about twenty paces.”

“Thank you,” Perrin said slowly. “Good work, Brillen.”

“Not nearly as good as you, Captain. Fourteen?! Where did the other two come from?”

“Brillen, there were
more
than fourteen,” Perrin murmured as the surgeon and assistant helped him into a sitting position so they could secure his wrappings.

“More than fourteen!” Karna exclaimed. “How?”

Perrin tried to shake his head but seemed to forget how to do so halfway there. “I have no idea . . .”

Karna stepped up to help support him as he began to drift fo
rward. The surgeon and his assistant tried to quickly wrap the bandages around his chest and back before he toppled over.

“Lieutenant,” the surgeon said in a low voice as they worked, “I wouldn’t put too much credence in anything he says right now. He’s had an extraordinary night and lost a fair amount of blood. And whenever we plank a man, his mind isn’t right for several hours.”

Karna nodded as he strained to support the deadweight of the captain, who was now drooling on his lieutenant’s shoulder.

Gizzada rushed over to help.

“What do we tell Mrs. Shin?” he whispered to Karna as he propped up one side of the captain. “He won’t be in any condition to go home in the morning. Dawn’s just a few hours away.”

The surgeon scoffed as he negotiated his way around the helpers to wrap the bandage around the swooning captain one more time. “And he wonders why none of us is married.”

He secured the end of the bandage and helped the soldiers lay the captain down again. “Where’s that rector uncle of his? Send for him. He should be able to come up with something believable.”

---

Hogal hadn’t slept all night, which was why he was eagerly watching for the dawn. He was hoping Perrin would show up and tell him everything was fine, so he could put down the long knife. It was still dark outside when he saw several dark smudges he assumed were soldiers converging together in front of the house.

Hogal’s stomach knotted in his throat. Whatever it was, he needed to hear it before Mahrree. He fumbled with the iron bars at the front door, unlatched all three of them, and slipped quietly ou
tside. He trotted down the front stairs, forgetting that he was still wrapped in the thick blanket, and made his way over to the soldiers.

They looked at him in surprise.

“Well?” Hogal breathed in the frigid air. “What news from the forest?”

“No news, sir. Forest is quiet, as always,” a young sergeant said convincingly.

“Nonsense!” Hogal snapped. “Perrin Shin is my nephew! I know there was trouble, and no one’s going to tell his wife about it but me. Understood?”

Later he felt a guilty streak of pride that Relf would have been amazed as each young man jumped automatically to attention.

“You’re Rector Densal, sir? I was sent to retrieve you. I’m pleased to report Captain Shin was most successful, sir,” the sergeant said in formal tone tinged appropriately with awe. “Fourteen Guarders were killed this night.”

Hogal twitched. “
Fourteen?
”

“Yes, sir. But the captain was also injured.”

Hogal’s shoulders sagged. “Ah,
no
. He’s not coming home soon then, is he?”

The sergeant shook his head.

Hogal looked back at the house, decided it seemed quiet, then said to the soldiers, “Can one of you bring me to him?”

---

Rector Densal walked quietly into the surgery recovery room and winced when he saw his nephew, his torso bare except for white cloth wrappings around his midsection, lying belly down on a cot.

“Ah, my boy. By the number of bandages, I’m guessing it was pretty severe.”

Perrin squinted open his eyes and tried to smile. “Merely an overly enthusiastic surgeon, Hogal.”

“That and twenty stitches,” the surgeon said, folding his arms. “It
was
severe, Rector. And he’s in great pain. He just controls it well. We’re getting another batch of snow to pack on his wound again.”

Perrin’s smile faded. “Mahrree! Does she know?”

Hogal sat down on a nearby cot. “No, no she doesn’t. I stayed the night at your house, worried about . . . well, everything. I secured all those windows and doors again. She was still sleeping when I left.”

“But you haven’t slept at all, have you Hogal? I’ve never seen such bags under your eyes.”

“Well, you don’t look so grand yourself, Perrin. But I’ve been up all night before. Part of the calling as a rector. But I’ve never been up all night with one of
these
,” he said, anxiously pulling out the long knife from under the blanket he still wore as a cloak. “Can’t seem to put it down.”

Perrin cringed. “Oh, Hogal. You should never have touched that.”

Hogal nodded feebly.

“Sir, may I help you with that?” said a quiet voice. Lieutenant Karna crouched in front of Hogal and gently pried the long knife from his fist.

“Thank you!” Hogal and Perrin breathed at the same time.

Karna chuckled. “I’ll see that this gets back to your home, Ca
ptain,” and he slipped it into his waistband.

“How exactly do you
do
that?!” Hogal said, more lighthearted now the knife was a safe distance away. “Don’t you ever cut yourself? Or sneeze?”

“We
simply don’t talk about it if we do, sir,” said Karna soberly.

Hogal chuckled, then put a hand on Perrin’s bare shoulder. “What happened, my boy?”

“Guarder,” Perrin whispered. “I slipped on the snow, he came over the top of me, right through the coat and tunic. But I got him. Hogal, there were
fourteen
.”

“I heard that, from the soldier that accompanied me here. I’ve been thinking about it, and I think I know what might have ha
ppened.”

“What, Rector?” Karna sat down on another bunk, and the su
rgeon stepped closer to hear.

“Your informant was found out, Perrin,” Hogal said gravely. “It was discovered that he sent the warning, and those above him sent
two more to finish the job in case you ensured the other twelve failed. Just when you’d be confident that you had them all, the last two would arrive.”

Perrin closed his eyes. “That’s exactly what happened. Can’t count on hearing from our friend ever again, can I?”

“If he was discovered, he’s most likely dead,” Karna suggested.

“That would be the Guarder way,” the surgeon said with di
sgust.

“But she slept through it all, didn’t she?” Perrin said, his eyes still closed.

Hogal smiled. “That she did, my boy. Without a pain, I imagine.”

“Which poses a new problem,” Perrin said, “and I hope you can help me with it.”

“What to tell her about that?” Hogal gestured to his torso.

All the soldiers nodded.

Hogal clucked his tongue and shook his head. “Remarkable the kind of damage a mere tree branch can do, isn’t it? When a horse goes down in the snow, and throws one at just the precise angle? Really, that branch should have broken sooner, but if it had held longer, Perrin would have been impaled on it, instead of severely slashed. Good thing Relf sent the message that the night training experiment is over. Just in time for his son to have a nice three or four days off to sleep at home and annoy his wife by being around
too
much.”

The surgeon nodded at him. “That’s why the forests are so da
ngerous, Rector, and why we
never
allow any soldiers
into
them. Perhaps now they should even stay away from the edges!”

He sent a severe look to the captain. Shortly after they’d packed Shin’s back in snow, the surgeon opened and read the captain’s letter he’d signed a few days before. Then he threw it angrily into the fire and went to work on the noncompliant officer.

“I’ll write instructions for Mrs. Shin on how to care for her husband. I’m sure he’ll be more comfortable at home. We can move him after midday meal, when he’s a little stronger.”

Karna nodded at the rector. “I’ll be sure the soldiers know the dangers of
branches.
Most should still be getting breakfast,” and he left the surgery.

Hogal patted Perrin gently on the shoulder when they were alone. “Excellent work, my boy. I couldn’t be prouder. I suspect you were sent some help?”

Perrin’s eyes became damp. “Hogal, you have no idea, and I think only you would understand.”

“I look forward to hearing the story. But first, I’ll go get Mahrree.”

-
--

It was a little over an hour later, as dawn was breaking and ending that very long night, that Perrin heard the whimper.

“I don’t believe it! Look at you! Oh, Perrin!”

He attempted a smile. “Hello, my darling wife. How did you sleep?”

“Wonderfully, I’m ashamed to say.” She kneeled down by his cot and gingerly touched his back. “You must be in so much pain.”

“I’m fine—they froze the area with snow again,” he whispered. “Where’s Jaytsy?”

“Tabbit came over so she and Hogal are both there for when she wakes up.”

“And our little kicker?”

Mahrree held her belly. “Still kicking, but no pains right now.”

He closed his eyes. “Thank the Creator.”

She wiped away a tear and attempted to stroke his bare back, unsure of where to touch him. “This is so awful! A tree branch? Thank goodness your father stopped these ridiculous night drills. When I get home I’m going to write to tell him exactly what his little experiment did to his son!”

“No, no, no,” Perrin whispered earnestly. “You’ll do no such thing. Let me handle it. How about I dictate a message and you write it down?”

“And make my own additions as I see fit?”

He would have chuckled if he could. “We’ll see.”

She kissed his bare shoulder and stroked his dark hair. “I’m so sorry, Perrin. I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

“It’s all right, Mahrree. I’m just sorry I got injured when you’ve been having pains.”

She kissed him on th
e lips. “How about we both laze around for a few days together?”

“Sounds perfect,” he whispered back.