Soldier at the Door (39 page)

The hardest part of it was, it was the soldier he wanted to d
estroy, but soldiering was his best skill. Yes, there were other things he could do. He truly enjoyed building the additions to the house for his children, and he could see himself becoming a builder—

But that wasn’t what he was.

To his core, he was a soldier—a destroyer. He’d killed well over a dozen men already, and he wasn’t even yet thirty-two. The problem was, he was
so good
at it. Even as a boy when his father gave him his first long knife, the handle felt so comfortable in his palm. He knew precisely what to do with it. Holding a sword was a natural extension. Slicing, stabbing, thrusting—it was all second nature. He practiced only because he loved the feel of the power of the blade, not because he feared becoming rusty. Fighting was easier than breathing.

And so while last night he felt the warmth and comfort of his great aunt and uncle in his heart, this morning his head had taken over. He was harder, rougher, and meaner. If they truly knew him, they wouldn’t have come last night. At his core, he wasn’t a builder of souls or houses, but a defender—

No, not even a defender today.

A
destroyer
.

He feared that was the most he’d ever be, but he had to stretch himself beyond destruction. Two more men had died two nights ago, by his hand. Two
more
Guarders. No one else was that deadly, and it was draining his soul.

He had to shift from destroyer to defender. He had to be better. He had to
prevent
. He had to protect everyone—not only his family, but his neighbors, their children, his soldiers, his favorite corporal who still lay weak and unable to move properly.

Mr. Metz was now on his knees, asking the Creator to keep safe the grave until the Last Day.

But Perrin didn’t hear the words. He gripped the shovel tighter and out of the corner of his eye noticed his children, held by his wife and mother-in-law, looking at him. They’d been remarkably quiet this early morning, as if they felt the gravity of the day. Jaytsy leaned for him, but Perrin didn’t respond to her.

Destroyers don’t hold children. Not until they become defenders again. The rage was hot and angry in his head, and now also in his heart. For once they worked together, and it was savage and wrong. He was only an animal right now, and he had to work the animal out.

Mr. Metz finished the prayer, struggled to his feet, and nodded to the workers with shovels, but none of them dared move.

Perrin knew why. He had a way of taking up too much space, of making others feel there wasn’t enough room next to him, even if they were twenty paces away.

He marched over to the pile of dirt and plunged the shovel’s blade into it with a violent
thunk
.

He was supposed to keep
them
safe, he thought bitterly as he twisted his body to drop the shovel full of dirt on the large wooden box. It hit with a dull
splud
.

That was part of the reason why he came to Edge—to watch over them.
Thunk
.

They were so old, so frail. This was personal.
Splud.

It was his responsibility. His fault.
Thunk.

Perrin shut out everything else but the dirt, the shovel, and the wide box in the hole five feet below him. Early this morning the bu
rial grounds diggers started two holes. He insisted on one. They would go together. They were always together.

And this was the only way he could keep them safe.
Splud.

It was an overly wide coffin designed for an overly large body. Together their small remains would huddle until the Last Day.
Thunk.

It didn’t matter what Mahrree thought. He could feel her staring at his back. He was taking away the burial diggers’ jobs, she whi
spered to him earlier as he had grabbed a shovel.
Splud.

The crowd of hundreds was also stunned silent to see the major step up to the hole.
Thunk.

Family and friends were supposed to watch and pray. Not sho
vel dirt.
Splud.

It didn’t matter to Perrin what they thought. What Mahrree thought. He knew the truth. This was personal. 
Thunk.

It’s not about power. It’s about protection. He
did
fail them. Hogal and Tabbit Densal, dead. Because he failed to secure Edge.
Splud.

He began to sweat in his woolen jacket. He didn’t care. Som
eone came after his family.
Thunk.

How did they know? How did they find them? He had to secure them. Was this was the only way, under piles of dirt and rock? At least
they
were safe until the Last Day.
Splud.

Only he could do this. No one else. Others held shovels, but they had no idea how to use them properly.
Thunk.

No one else in Edge could secure the village. He didn’t want power. He
only wanted to protect. It was all on his shoulders. All his responsibility. Every last one of them.
Splud.

Only him. Only him. Only he could do this. No more destru
ction.
Thunk.

He wouldn’t lose any more. No one else in Edge would die b
ecause of him. He alone had to save Edge. Only him. Only him.
Splud.

---

Mahrree had always suspected her husband was actually two men shoved into the same body, but as she watched him furiously shovel earth over the large coffin, she changed her evaluation.

She was actually married to a restless bear, disguised as a man.

And he wasn’t going to be easy to live with.

---

The High General of Idumea had already planned to go to Edge after receiving the urgent message about the raids late in the evening of the 64
th
Day. But when word came from their son the next afternoon about Joriana’s aunt and uncle, his wife moved up his timetable and they were on the fastest garrison coach available that evening.

But first, he paid a visit to the Administrative Headquarters.

“Nicko, let me give him permission!”

“Relf, no,” the Chairman said casually, as he shifted around some pages on his large desk, bigger than any other in Idumea. He’d made sure of that.

“Why not?!” High General Shin pounded on the desk.

Mal’s eyes slowly travelled up to look at the High General, since his fists on the stacks of paper made moving the pages impo
ssible.

“He’s right, Nicko! For what purpose do we sit on the edges waiting to be hunted? Let him go in and hunt! He’ll sign a waiver, we won’t hold the government or the army liable should he not come back again, and he’ll take with him only volunteers. We can put an end to this nonsense, once and for all!”

Chairman Mal rubbed his tear duct to remove a speck of dirt. “Relf,
Relf
,” he droned in a bored manner as he looked at the smudge, “we’ve been through this before. I’ll not give your son permission to enter the forests. The time he dragged that poor lieutenant with him, they were both exceptionally lucky. But it set a very dangerous precedent. Perrin may believe he’s cautious, but what about citizens? Teenagers? Children who might follow in his example? We can’t even assume
his
luck will hold—”

“He did it a
second
time,” the High General interrupted in a quiet voice.

Mal stopped staring at the invisible speck and immediately shifted his gaze upwards. “I know he did. I saw Neeks’ report—”

Shin shook his head. “Neeks didn’t know the whole truth. Perrin had a suspicion something was up, and he didn’t go in only a few paces, as Neeks reported. Perrin confided in me that he spent several long, cold nights in the forest waiting and watching until the threat appeared. He killed those eleven Guarders himself, all deep inside the forest. It was dark and snow-covered, and he not only survived but he succeeded—fantastically.

“Nicko,” Shin suddenly leaned towards him, bracing himself on the desk to face the Chairman whose set face barely contained his fury, “
my boy
can conquer that forest! I know it! He can train his soldiers and the commanders of other forts, and within a year the Guarders could be eradicated. Think about, Nicko: under
your
rule, with your direction, the world would finally become peaceful. How would
that
look in the history books under your name?”

“You’re more manipulative and deceptive than Querul the Third,” Mal said steadily.

The High General arched an eyebrow.

“Your son purposefully went against General Cush’s admon
itions, allowed Neeks to file an inaccurate report, and here you’re pretending he did nothing wrong!”

“Yes, he violated the first rule again, but there were extenuated circumstances—”

“There’s NO reason to disobey the rules!” Mal shouted. “Even if he
could
eliminate the Guarders, what would he do about the bottomless crevices? Hot water? Poisonous gasses? And those are only the hazards we can see from the edges. What might be further in? He
might
be able to rid the forest of the Guarder danger, but he could never cure the rest of it. And the citizens, believing that the army and government have made everything safer, will wander into those forests and not come back out. That happened before the Great War, High General, and you know it. So how would
that
look in the history books, eh? Under the rule of Nicko Mal, thousands of citizens died because they erroneously believed the forests in the north were suddenly safe!”

The High General stood back up, scoffed, and took a breath to tell the Chairman how wrong he was, but Mal kept going.

“I know what this is really about, Relf. You never cared about those forests until your son moved up there. Now you act as if you’re worried about safety. But the truth is, you see a way for him to distinguish himself. If he conquers that forest, as you naively believe, not only would he be out of danger and
his son
as well, but who could deny him to become the third High General Shin? Or his son to be the fourth? You want to create your own little rule here, don’t you, Relf? Querul and his descendents, now Shin and his descendents?”

Shin threw his hands in the air. “Ludicrous! You really think I’m that petty and greedy for power?”

“I do,” Mal said simply. “We all are. We merely dress it up in the name of altruism. But we’re all the same. We wouldn’t be in our positions if some part of us didn’t crave the power. That’s what all of this is about, Relf.”

“This isn’t about us,” Shin said, sidestepping the accusation. “But about Perrin. You know he cares nothing for Idumea. He doesn’t see power as you do. Every time I bring up his coming back here to serve, he shuts that right down. He
requested
to go to the smallest village with a fort available. This has nothing to do with making a name for himself, but everything to do with making the world a safer place. And yes,
for his son,
and his daughter, and his wife, and everyone else.”

“High General, I don’t know why you persist in wasting my time,” Mal sighed loudly. “I’ve already given you my answer, and nothing you’ve said has changed my mind. In fact, the revelation that he went into the forest a
second time
has me quite livid! He violated the first rule of the army,
again.
If it were any other officer, he would’ve been ushered right back to Idumea for retraining or dismissal, as he was warned. But, High General,
you
didn’t do that,” Mal’s tone developed a dangerous sharpness. “Not only did you not discipline your son—”

“I didn’t know about it at the time,” Shin said calmly.

“But you found out later, didn’t you?”

Shin didn’t answer.

“Obviously. So not only did you not discipline your son, you also
withheld
his deliberate disobedience from me, making you just as culpable.”

Shin’s jaw shifted slightly, but otherwise he didn’t move.

“For your irresponsible and deceptive behavior, I should remove you from your post immediately!” Mal seethed. “You should be demoted down to lieutenant and given no greater responsibility than counting the horses at the garrison each evening! And at the very
least,
I should insist that you bring that rash boy of yours back to Idumea where I can keep a closer eye on him
and
you!”

High General Shin stood at attention. “Major Shin withheld the information of what he did to protect his wife, who was struggling with her last expecting. There was concern that the child would be lost if she experienced excessive stress,” he related formally. “Perrin kept his doings secret from everyone for three moons. Once I learned the truth, I chastised him severely and even threatened him with lo
sing his position. I felt that I handled the situation appropriately and didn’t see any reason to trouble you with
army
discipline.”