Flight of the Wounded Falcon

Mahrree was dressed and sitting on the front porch watching the tower between the Shin and Zenos homes when the banners changed. The sun had come over the mountain peaks a few minutes ago, and the tower watchman waved down to her instead of hitting his chimes to get her attention.

  Mahrree waved back half-heartedly, already knowing what would be rising.

  Quickly the flags were hoisted. First was the banner for Perrin—dark and light blue stripes, meaning that the message was for or about him. He and Shem had their own banners, designated to send signals to either of the men throughout Salem and the surrounding communities.

  Next was a set of smaller flags, each with different shapes and colors for different letters, spelling out a brief message. Home.

  Then another banner, white with red stripes, went up. Emergency.

  Mahrree swallowed and tried to fight back the tears. She heard the door at the Briter home fly open and Jaytsy stood there, staring up at the tower.

  “Mother!” she cried and rushed over to the Shin house. “Mother! Do you see it?”

  Mahrree nodded and patted the spot next to her. “I know,” she said. “The Creator sent me His own message about an hour ago.”

  Jaytsy was too worried to sit. “What happened? Do we know who it is?”

  “Your father,” Mahrree whispered and nodded at the tower. “Someone up north must have alerted the tower outside Norden. Who knows how long they’ve been traveling back. Couldn’t send the message until they had enough morning light.”

  Jaytsy sank next to her mother and put her arms around her. “I knew something bad would happen this trip. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it—”

  The front door of the Shin house opened and eleven-year-old Sakal was surprised to find her aunt and grandmother sitting on the steps.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked urgently.

  “Sakal, go get your mother,” Jaytsy said, and she ran back into the house.

  A moment later Lilla rushed out and stared at the tower.

  “No!” she yelled, and spun around to look at Jaytsy and Mahrree, both trying to fight back tears.

  Lilla was never one for that. She let her tears fall freely.

  “What do you think happened? Why am I asking that!” she said, sitting down hard on the steps as she cried. “How can any of us know what happened, but it happened to Papa Pere, right? Isn’t that what the tower means? Here I thought it’d be one of the little ones, or Young Pere getting in trouble—”

  “Lilla,” Mahrree tried to slow her down.

  “—I’ve been feeling uneasy about this trip for weeks, but there was no reason, I kept telling myself. Why should this trip be different? After all, they have the guide!”

  “Lilla—”

  “They have a doctor! They have the general! But no!” She stood up. “I’ll get a horse and go find them—try to see what’s happening!”

  Before Mahrree and Jaytsy could stop her, they heard someone running from the Zenos road. Calla was holding up her skirt and making quick time across the field. She pointed up at the tower as she came to the front porch.

  “Do we know what happened?” she asked as she kneeled down, breathless, in front of Mahrree.

  Mahrree shook her head. “Not yet. But it’s Perrin. That much I know. And it’s the Creator’s will.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Lilla wailed.

  “I don’t know,” Mahrree murmured. “But it’s what I was told, early this morning, by my father.”

  That hushed even Lilla, and in silence the women fretted.

  Calla gripped Mahrree’s hands and smiled bravely. “Then whatever happens, happens, and all will be well.”

  Mahrree smiled dismally at Calla’s calming optimism. Her youngest sister needed some of it.

  Lilla started off the porch, intent on going to the barn when Calla called after her. “No, Lilla. Stay here. News will reach us soon enough.”

  Lilla spun back around. “But I just can’t sit here and wait!”

  “That’s right, you won’t,” Calla said in a firm but gentle tone. “We’ll get an early start this morning on the blankets we planned to tie today. This evening we’ll be busy taking care of whatever we need to do for Perrin and those who come with him, so this is our only opportunity to tackle the rest of the projects, right?”

  Lilla’s shoulders sagged. “Right,” she reluctantly agreed. “Jayts, I guess we best start breakfast. Weren’t we planning to do something together this morning?”

  Jaytsy tried to smile. “That’s right, we were. We were going to let the younger girls help us—” Her voice trailed off as she wiped away a frustrated tear.

  “Let’s go,” Lilla said, full of new determination to do something, anything. “Mahrree, would you wake everyone here?”

  Mahrree glanced up at the tower again and slowly stood up.

  “I’ll help,” Calla said brightly.

  “I really don’t think I need help waking the girls, Calla,” Mahrree said to her best friend.

  Calla put a bracing arm around her. “That’s not what I’m going to help with, Mahrree.”

  ---

  Breakfast was usually a noisy affair on regular days, but when it was women’s week, it was almost deafening. All of the Shin, Briter, and Zenos wives, sisters, and daughters crowded together in one house to eat together and plan the day’s projects.

  But this morning was unsettlingly somber. Only the toddlers and babies still babbled, taking advantage of the silence. A couple of girls sat on the Briters’ front porch eating, watching for any tower message changes. Breakfast was finished rather sooner than usual, and the girls and women walked over to the Shins to start working on the blankets set up for tying.

  Several male Zenos relatives, over to help take care of the cattle and the men’s chores, read the banner message and offered to head north to see if they could lend a hand once the chores were finished.

  Seeing the volunteers going about their tasks in the barn and fields made Mahrree all the more lonely for her own men. She wished that somehow all of them could come home today. It no longer seemed right for them to be gone.

  She was making her way over to the Shins with Jaytsy when they noticed a cloud of dust fast approaching. They rushed to the road and the rider soon became clear.

  Within moments, Barnos Shin stopped Clark 14 in front of them and slid off the frothing horse. He went straight to Mahrree as women piled out of the Shins’ house to greet him.

  “Muggah,” he said taking her gently by the arms, “I see the tower messages reached here. Puggah has an infection in his leg. He’d been impaled on a barbed stick, and Boskos got it out and stitched it up, but early this morning he was feverish and the wound looked pretty bad. At least, that’s what Bos said. I wasn’t about to look myself, though. Papa and Young Pere are going to bring him down out of the mountain. Grandma Trovato was sending a wagon to meet them. Bos thinks Dr. Toon has a better way to treat him. I’m on my way now to go get him. I was thinking Dr. Toon could ride up and meet them on their way home. They should be here by this afternoon, if all has gone well.”

  Mahrree hugged her exhausted grandson. “Thank you, Barnos. I can’t imagine how tired you are.”

  “It’s all right, Muggah. I’m actually not that tired. Riding down the mountain in the dark was rather invigorating, and I haven’t quite gotten over that yet. I have a note from Boskos to get to Dr. Toon.”

  “Then come right back for breakfast,” Jaytsy said, patting her nephew’s arm.

  “Can’t. I should get Dr. Toon to them as quickly as possible.”

  “But you’ll need a fresh horse, Barn!” Lilla rushed over. “Come back, eat, and we’ll have another one saddled.”

  “No, Mama. Can’t spare the time. I’ll borrow Clarkess 85 from down the road. I saw them saddling her up for some errands.” Barnos noticed his wife Ivy trotting over to greet him, but he only waved to her, then mounted on the tired horse and spurred it back to the center of Salem. r />
  Ivy stopped in her tracks as Barnos raced away.

  Calla produced a smile as she joined Mahrree. “There, see? Just an infection! Dr. Toon’s the best physician we’ve had in Salem. He’ll have Perrin up and dancing again in no time, if Perrin danced.”

  Mahrree wasn’t convinced.

  Calla put her arm around Mahrree and started to walk her back to the house.

  But Ivy continued to watch as the dust cloud faded away.

  “He didn’t even stop for a kiss,” she said quietly to her sister-in-law Lori who stood next to her. “Barn going anywhere without a goodbye kiss?” She glanced over at her husband’s grandmother who heard her.

  “Don’t you ever,” Mahrree told her, “ever let him do that again.”

  ---

  Peto was surprised with the speed in which they made it down the mountain, even though each hour seemed to go by insufferably slowly.

  Without stopping to mark the backs of the trees, and focusing only on getting to the bottom as quickly as possible, Peto, Young Pere, Cephas, Viddrow, and Holling brought Perrin to the waiting wagon driven by a Trovato grandson only a couple hours after sunrise. Traveling light and having men jogging next to the pack horses to keep them steady sped up their pace, and Peto assumed that the rest of their party was only a few hours behind them.

  Gingerly they loaded Perrin into the wagon, keeping him in the sling and hanging it suspended from two posts on either end. They sent the Trovato grandson back with the pack horses to retrieve the other wagons in anticipation of the rest of the families.

  Peto sat next to his father in the back of the wagon with the other young men while Holling Briter took the reins and started the horses in a steady gallop south.

  Perrin was quiet now, his eyes closed and his breathing shallow.

  Peto put a hand on his arm and discovered that his father had plenty of ‘hotness.’ He wondered how long this bout of calm would last. Perrin had been alternating between stillness and thrashing, between silence and muttering. Peto didn’t need to be a doctor to know the situation was serious.

  He felt a hand on his arm, belonging to Cephas. His nephew smiled faintly. “He’s in the Creator’s hands, Uncle Peto. I’m sure of it. We do all we can, then He makes up the difference.”

  “I know,” Peto said. “But I also appreciate the reminder.”

  Peto noticed Young Pere staring at the distant farmlands. Young Pere glanced at him, at Cephas’s hand on Peto’s arm, then he turned back to the scenery with mild disdain. He’d been uncharacteristically silent on the fast run down the mountain, and said only a few necessary words since they left early this morning.

  But Peto had little energy left to worry about his son. All he could focus on was his father, and what his mother would say when she saw him.

  ---

  Mahrree felt the wagon approaching before she heard it. It was a light uneasiness in her belly that made her get up from the blanket she was stitching to calmly walk outside without causing any of the girls or women around her to wonder why. It was only a little after midday meal and certainly too soon for anyone to be coming.

  But they were.

  She recognized the wagon as it rushed down their lane. By the time it reached the house, half of the girls and women were joining Mahrree in the front garden, waiting in silence.

  She thought she was ready for anything, but seeing Perrin so still in the net litter, instead of sitting next to Holling on the front seat waving to her sheepishly about being injured, was not something she was expecting.

  He would never be voluntarily in a sling. Not unless . . .

  She ran to the wagon, Jaytsy close on her heels, before it could properly stop. Dr. Toon, riding in the bed next to Perrin, immediately starting issuing orders.

  “Mrs. Shin, we need to get him flat and comfortable. Boys, lift him gently. Ladies, out of the way!”

  “This way!” Lilla called unnecessarily. The grandsons, hefting the net litter off the posts, knew where Puggah’s bedroom was, but Lilla needed to do something as she jogged to the house and the open door.

  Peto hopped off the wagon and went directly to his mother and sister. His light gray eyes were dark and muddled.

  Mahrree bit her lip. “Tell me honestly, Peto—how is he?”

  “Not good, Mother.” He put an arm around his mother and sister and he walked them to the house.

  The grandsons were carrying Perrin through the main door and down to his section of the house, the rest of the girls and women having moved out of their way.

  “He was fine yesterday morning,” Peto told them. “I just don’t understand it. Boskos did an excellent job on him. Even Dr. Toon thought so. He and Barnos met us north of Salem. He’s put on a different poultice but wanted to redo it once we got home.”

  As they arrived at Perrin and Mahrree’s bedroom, the grandsons were lifting a very still Perrin into his bed. His flesh was nearly as pale as his hair.

  Jaytsy whimpered when she saw him, and Mahrree covered her mouth. He looked worse than she imagined, and she thought she’d imagined pretty bad.

  “He’s so quiet,” Jaytsy sobbed softly.

  “He wasn’t earlier,” Peto assured her. “Mother, go to him. Let him hear you. He’s been worried about you all morning. He seems to think he’s back in Edge during the land tremor, and he can’t find you anywhere.”

  Mahrree weaved through her grandsons who stood watching Dr. Toon hastily unwrapping Perrin’s leg, and went to the other side of the bed. She sat down next to her husband and took up his hot, limp hand.

  “Perrin. Perrin? You’re home! Can you hear me? You’re home now.” This wasn’t the first time she sat next to an ill man trying to reach him, but she still couldn’t think of what to say that didn’t sound odd not given a response.

  Slowly he opened his eyes. It took him a moment to focus on her, but when he did he began to breathe more rapidly. “Where did you go?” he whispered slowly. “We’ve been looking all over for you!”

  “I know, I know,” she smiled, relieved to hear his voice, no matter how feeble. “But we’re together again, so everything’s fine.”

  “Mahrree, I think I got hurt again. I’m sorry about that. But at least I’ll be home for a while.”

  Mahrree kissed his hand. “Yes, you will. And I’ll enjoy that.”

  He sighed and closed his eyes as Dr. Toon rewrapped his leg.

  Behind Mahrree, Peto reached down to check his father’s temperature. “Still very warm.”

  “Plenty of hotness to share,” Cephas said quietly.

  The young men smiled sadly.

  “Fever can be a good sign,” Dr. Toon said, pulling a thin blanket over Perrin as he began to shiver. “It shows his body is fighting the infection. The concern is if he’s too hot for too long.”

  “That’s true,” Mahrree said, noticing Jaytsy, Lilla, and Calla standing in the doorway, looking far too worried. The bedroom was crowded with bodies, and many of the women and girls packed the small gathering room behind them, waiting for news about Puggah. Mahrree had to alleviate some of their fears, along with her own.

  “No, fevers aren’t always bad,” she said optimistically. “Jaytsy, you and Peto remember when I was sick with the pox, don’t you? After Grandmother Peto passed?”

  Jaytsy sent her brother a faint smile. “Oh, yes I do. Peto wanted to take some ink and connect the pocks on your face. He was sure they would reveal some secret message.”

  Peto scoffed lightly as his sons and nephews snickered. “I would never suggest doing such a thing.”

  Young Pere, who’d been very quiet, Mahrree noticed, didn’t even crack a smile.

  Mahrree touched some of the faded scars on her face. “I was feverish for over three days, or so I was told. Apparently at one point the fort surgeon told Perrin that I wouldn’t make it to morning. But I did. I recovered.” She patted her husband’s still hand. “And so can he.”

  Jaytsy smiled more broadly. ??
?That was probably the night Father was so worried that he didn’t want to leave your side. Because he didn’t come down for dinner, we brought it up to him as he sat next to you. It had gone cold, but once again Peto had an idea. He put a piece of bread on your arm to see if you could warm it up. And it was working, until Father realized what Peto was doing.”

  Now the boys began to laugh.

  Even Dr. Toon smiled and shook his head.

  Young Pere’s face didn’t move.

  But Peto was aghast. “Why Jaytsy, I would never consider using my ill and beloved mother as a stovetop.” But his eyes thanked her for the memory.

  Lilla put her hands on her hips. “No wonder you’re so reluctant to share stories about your past with me. You were awful!”

  “I like to think I’ve improved over the years,” Peto told her.

  “You have,” Mahrree said, reaching back to pat him. “And Perrin’s going to be just fine,” she declared.

  Dr. Toon gave her an encouraging smile. “If anyone can fight it off, it’s the general. I’ll be back in two hours to check on him. Keep by his side and monitor his breathing and heart rate. Send a messenger to my office if anything should change dramatically. When Boskos arrives, he can replace the poultice. I’m leaving an additional one.”

  “But they won’t be back for days,” Mahrree said.

  “No, Mother,” Peto said. “Everyone’s on their way home. They should be here by dinner time.”

  Calla’s eyes grew large. “Everyone? But I’m not prepared! Tonight’s my night for dinner and . . . oh my.” She looked at her sister. “I may need some help.”

  Jaytsy put a hand on Calla. “Remember, they’ll be bringing home all the food I packed. Just let them eat what they should have tonight.”

  Peto winced at his sister, and Holling put a bracing arm around his mother. “Jayts, I’m sorry to say it, but in order to get everyone down quickly, we kind of . . . left everything up on the mountain. We left them with only one pack horse, so everyone took only what they needed for a quick midday meal. The Trovatos said they’ll retrieve everything else tonight and bring it down tomorrow.”

  Jaytsy sighed at Lilla. “Next year, you’re in charge of food again. It seems all I did was pack meals for the bears.”

  The family’s chuckling almost drowned out Perrin’s mumbling. “Why is Jaytsy feeding the bears, Mahrree?” he whispered. “Don’t we have enough children?”

  Mahrree laughed and smoothed back some of his white, sweaty hair. “I think everyone should go now and let him sleep. I have a feeling we have some hungry boys here.”

  “Definitely!” Young Pere said, speaking for the first time. He pushed his way through the bodies to head to the kitchen.

  In the gathering room, Barnos was weaving through the women when he felt a hand grab him and pull him into his grandfather’s office.

  “Ivy! I was just coming to look for you. I’m sorry I didn’t—”

  She stopped him with a kiss.

  After a minute she pulled away. “Your grandmother’s orders. You are never again to leave without kissing me goodbye.”

  ---

  Perrin opened his eyes and was completely bewildered.

  The candle nearby dimly illuminated a familiar room. He was in his bed, he was sure of it, but he didn’t know why. He heard someone breathing softly next to him and recognized the rhythm as Mahrree’s. His eyes scanned the ceiling, trying to remember exactly what was going on.

  They were in the mountains, right? So why was he now—

  He tried to move his leg but a shooting pain caused him to gasp. He remembered everything up until . . . until getting off a horse? Fish?

  “Oh, Perrin, you’re awake!”

  He felt his wife kiss him and put a hand on his forehead. She was unnaturally cold, and a mild panic rose up in his chest as he fumbled to take her wrist or her throat or anywhere else he could to feel for a pulse.

  But she was moving, so she wasn’t dead. So why was she so cold?

  Nothing was making sense. Everything felt off.

  “Mahrree, what’s going on? When did I get home?”

  “Earlier this afternoon. It’s now about midnight. You’ve been very feverish, but I think you’re cooling down a little. Dr. Toon is trying something different on your leg.”

  He tried to sit up but felt unusually weak. “I don’t understand . . . How did I get home? What about everyone else—”

  “Perrin, everything’s fine. Everyone came home. They arrived a few hours ago.”

  “What? How?”

  Mahrree kissed him again. “I’ll let Shem explain it. He’s resting on the armchairs, hoping you would wake tonight. I’ll send him in and then get you something to eat.”

  Perrin started to raise a finger, a variety of questions and thoughts in his mind, but he couldn’t sort out any of them, so he slumped again into the feather pillows.

  ---

  For the first time all day, Mahrree breathed easier. He was talking! He was coherent! Already he was shaking it off.

  She got off the bed, still fully dressed, and went into the gathering room.

  “Shem, he’s up and very confused. I’m going to get him some dinner. Do you want to tell him what’s been going on?”

  Shem sighed in relief as immense as hers, and he rubbed the exhaustion out of his eyes. “Absolutely!” He made his way to their bedroom as Mahrree started down the dark hall, where she crashed into a tall body.

  “Young Pere? What are you doing up at this hour?”

  “Muggah,” Young Pere said, surprised. “I didn’t realize you would be . . . How’s Puggah?”

  “He’s awake, finally. Confused, but at least he’s making sense, now. I knew he could beat this,” she added confidently. “Did you need something?”

  “Oh, well, I was . . . coming down to check on you.”

  Mahrree squeezed his arm. “You still can! Go say hi to your grandfather, help Shem explain what’s happened. I’m sure he’d be happy to see you.”

  “Sure, Muggah.”

  ---

  Young Pere waited until his grandmother was well on her way to the kitchen before he continued on to her small gathering room. He paused and listened to the deep, quiet voices in the bedroom. Someone chuckled hoarsely, and it took him a moment to realize the frail sound came from Puggah.

  Young Pere didn’t join them—he hadn’t expected anyone to be up at this late hour—but instead stepped noiselessly over to General Shin’s office and slowly opened the door. He crept into the dark room over to the large bookshelf. He’d seen it there many times before, but never bothered with it. Within a few moments of up-close searching in the pale moons’ light filtering through the windows, he located what he was looking for.

  Burned carefully into the leather cover were the precise letters: The Army of Idumea: The Shin-Zenos Years, by Calla Trovato Zenos.

  One should always fully research one’s first career before embarking upon it.

  ---

  “Papa!” Tabbit was breathless the next morning as she reached her father, out in the pasture checking on a calf.

  Deck looked up, surprised to see his fourteen-year-old so distraught. “What’s wrong?” His only thought was, Please, not Perrin. Please, not Perrin—

  “It’s Clark,” she panted, her eyes red. “He won’t eat.”

  Deck was already walking quickly back with her to the horses’ pasture. He realized he should have been thinking, Please, not Perrin or Clark. “What do you mean ‘won’t eat’?” although he already had an idea.

  “Kanthi and I can’t get him to take anything. Not oats, not the old apples—nothing. He just turns away. He didn’t eat much yesterday, either, but we didn’t think too much of it. Well, now we do! What do we do?”

  Deck sighed, because he’d seen this before. He put an arm around his worried daughter. “Right now, we just hope and pray.”

  Tabbit’s chin trembled. “That’s what Kanthi said you’d say. It??
?s because of Puggah, isn’t it? Clark knows.”

  Without thinking, Deck said, “Did you tell Clark what happened?”

  But his daughter didn’t think it foolish that their animals understood them. Just because they didn’t answer back didn’t mean they weren’t listening. “No, we thought we shouldn’t. We didn’t want to worry him.”

  They were at the pasture now, Kanthi holding a shriveled apple up to Clark’s lips, but he wouldn’t take it. Deck caught the look in Clark’s eyes and . . . there was no look. Where there was normally a bright spark—even at his age—it was dimming, rapidly. Clark turned away, and slowly walked to a corner of the pasture where he drooped his head and stared at nothing.

  Deck noticed none of the other horses were nearby. Usually they hovered around him, at an adoring distance, as if knowing he was king of all horses in Salem. Today, they grazed as far away as possible.

  Kanthi looked to her uncle, distraught. “He knows about Puggah, doesn’t he, Uncle Deck?”

  Deck sighed, realizing that this wasn’t a good sign, for Clark or for Perrin.

  “Yes,” he decided. “Clark knows.”

  ---

  The next two days were as if they were taken out of time. No one was quite sure what to do or how to do it. The women still had many projects to complete—blankets and clothes to sew and new recipes to try—but the presence of the men complicated everything.

  And the men didn’t quite know what to do, either. They should’ve been in the mountains instead of at home. But none of the visiting families felt like leaving yet, either. No one wanted to do anything until they were sure their Puggah was going to be fine.

  His condition changed hour by hour. The morning after they returned, Perrin was sitting up in bed and talking easily with Dr. Toon and a steady stream of visitors who saw the tower messages and came by to express their concern.

  Mahrree wasn’t at all surprised when Yudit, Shem’s oldest sister showed up.

  “I heard my ‘twin brother’ is now a layabout?” she said with her hands on her hips and her eyes twinkling. In many ways, she and Perrin were like siblings, only a day’s difference in their ages, and both of them feeling they needed to take care of Shem; Yudit raised him ever since their mother died when Shem was only two, and Perrin took over the duties when Shem went into the world. Yudit was a frequent visitor, a well-matched tease, and as dear a friend as any real sister could be.

  Mahrree laughed as she let Yudit in. She was still as big and broad as Shem, and with snowy-white hair that matched Perrin’s. “Maybe you can get him up and kicking again.”

  Yudit struck a pose. “Of course I can,” she sniffed haughtily. “Lead me to Mr. Lazybones.”

  She followed Mahrree back to their bedroom, and Mahrree announced, “Yudit’s here!”

  Perrin groaned and said, “Oh, great. Now I’m going to get it.”

  “That’s right, you are! What kind of example are you setting for the children?” Yudit exclaimed as she marched into the room where she stopped unexpectedly. She stared silently at Perrin, her face blanching almost as pale as his, and Mahrree understood her abrupt silence and change in demeanor. Noch.

  Her husband had fallen ill last year, and was also very pale, just before he passed away. Surely Perrin’s condition, lying propped up by pillows in bed, reminded Yudit of those terrible, terrible weeks, and Perrin seemed to remember, too.

  He forced himself to sit up more properly, as if to prove to Yudit that he wasn’t ailing as Noch had, and she did her best to rally.

  “Well, it’s not often we find Perrin down.” But her teasing demeanor was gone, replaced with a subdued tone as she sat down next to him on his bed and tenderly took his arm. “Still so warm. Oh, Perrin. Can I get you some ice? The ice houses are still quite full—”

  He patted her hand that was clutching him with her ever-too-tight grasp. “I’m already feeling too chilled, but thank you for the offer.”

  They spoke for a few minutes about nothing important, but Mahrree didn’t hear any of it. She was staring too hard at Yudit, trying to suppress her annoyance that Yudit was being so . . . nice. Not that it wasn’t in her nature. She had seven children, and hordes of grandchildren and great-grandchildren who she loved immensely, but there was always a slight edge to her, a sharpness in her affection that Mahrree had imagined must have come from her and Perrin’s ancestor, Lorixania Shin, who had been a massive woman with an affinity for knives and battle.

  While Yudit would never take up a blade, she certainly would never coddle someone either. Not like she was now coddling Perrin, worriedly dabbing his sweaty forehead with a damp cloth.

  “You look so tired, I really should let you sleep,” Yudit was saying when Mahrree focused on their conversation again. “Don’t try to get up too soon. Rest, Perrin, all right?”

  He smiled feebly at her, a little surprised at her earnestness. “Of course. Whatever you say. I know better than to pick an argument with you.”

  She grinned at him. “Finally you catch on!” But Mahrree could see that her eyes were swimming as she hastily turned and left for the gathering room. Mahrree followed, if only to assure Yudit—and herself—that this was not like Noch.

  But before Mahrree could get the words out in some gentle, kind way, Yudit surprised her with a massive embrace, holding Mahrree so tightly she almost couldn’t breathe.

  Only after a long moment did she pull away, and Yudit’s face was wet with tears.

  “It’s not like Noch,” Mahrree blurted, knowing that wasn’t the most tactful thing to say, but desperate to clarify that to Yudit.

  Yudit tilted her head sadly and gave Mahrree that look she hated, the condescending one she was so good at delivering herself, but resented to receive. The, You don’t really know what you’re talking about, dear, look.

  “I’m sure it’s not,” Yudit said generously, but her eyes betrayed her. Salemites were such terrible liars.

  For the first time ever, Mahrree was glad to see Yudit leave.

  By the late afternoon, Perrin was exhausted and slept through dinner. He didn’t awake until after dark, and Mahrree refused to let him exert himself in any way.

  By the morning of the second day he was hotter than ever, but after sleeping past midday meal he looked almost like his regular self again. Boskos checked the wound hourly, and Dr. Toon was by six times a day.

  On the afternoon of the second day, Boskos took Dr. Toon aside to look at the stick he’d wrapped carefully in white cotton.

  “I thought you’d be interested in seeing it,” Boskos said as Dr. Toon pulled out his warped glass to examine it more closely.

  “Yes,” Dr. Toon said slowly. “Very unusual. Peto said he’d never seen anything like it. From your description, you removed it correctly, but I see something right here.”

  He handed the glass to Boskos and pointed at a section. “You’ll notice there’s a pattern to the barbs, an even spacing between them. But what do you notice right here, near the sharp tip of the stick?”

  Boskos moaned softly. “There’s a barb missing! That thorn is probably still in Uncle Perrin’s thigh.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about,” Dr. Toon sighed. “It’s tiny, but it’s enough to infect.”

  “But Dr. Toon, I cleaned it as thoroughly as I could,” Boskos gestured in frustration. “I examined the wound and didn’t see anything.”

  “I’m sure you did the best you could,” Dr. Toon said, examining the stick. “It was probably in the deepest part of the wound, a good two inches into the muscle. I doubt I would’ve done anything differently. I’m not sure even bleeding it would have dislodged the thorn.”

  Boskos sat down hard and held his head in his hands. “So what do we do now?”

  “Nothing more than we are,” Dr. Toon assured him. “The body can fight the infection, and even purge the thorn in time. We just keep molding and poulticing him and forcing him to rest. Remember Boskos, who’s the real healer?”

  B
oskos looked up with a sad smile. It was drilled into the medical students from the first day of classes, and they recited it every day to remember.

  “The Creator is the real healer. It’s ultimately up to Him. We merely take the credit when the patient gets better, and put the blame on Him when things go wrong.”

  Dr. Toon nodded. “You did do an excellent job on your uncle. Now we just wait and see what the Creator has in mind for him.”

  ---

  That evening Perrin, feeling restless, wanted to see all of the family. He’d never felt so distant from them before, even though it’d been only a couple of days since he’d spoken to most of them. It felt wrong not to be counting all of their heads as they came home from the marking trip, and he’d missed the last two nightly family prayers. That was his duty—securing Salem, securing his family, and he’d felt he’d been neglecting all of that as he laid in bed, useless. He needed to see all of them, from the smallest to the largest, just to make sure they were all right.

  But at Mahrree’s insistence, he could see them only for a few minutes, and only one family at a time. So, upon his wife’s orders, although he wasn’t sure just when and how she promoted herself over him, he lay in his bed and smiled as little boys and girls brought him more flowers, and teenagers and the young married couples gave him reports on their trip back home. Silently he counted them, just to make sure someone hadn’t been forgotten on the mountain.

  In the back of his mind it occurred to him that if someone were missing, they would have discovered it by now, but that wasn’t the point.

  Barnos and Ivy came in together to share with him their secret that he was going to become a great-grandfather again in the Snowing Season, and even Wes was able to give him a smile.

  But it faded when Perrin asked Hycy to leave them alone for a few minutes. Hycy bit her lip in worry, but Wes nodded bravely to her and shut the door behind her as she stepped out.

  “Sit down, Wes. Right there,” Perrin motioned weakly to one of the chairs next to his bed.

  “Yes, sir,” Wes said obediently. He wasn’t sure what to do with his hands as he sat down. He tried folding them, clenching them, putting them under his legs, then finally folded his arms and tried to look nonchalant.

  Perrin watched him intently the entire time, causing Wes to become the most anxiously relaxed man in Salem.

  “You’re marrying one of my granddaughters in a few weeks,” Perrin began. “I like to have a little chat with the boys who plan to take my girls away. They mean a great deal to me, and I want to make sure they are always treated as the daughters of the Creator that they are.”

  “Yes, sir,” Wes swallowed hard. “I understand.”

  Perrin studied him in silence until a bead of sweat began to form on the poor boy’s forehead. He couldn’t hide his smile anymore, but apparently Wes saw it as more of a sneer because he began to shift uncomfortably.

  “You will take good care of my Hycymum?” Perrin finally asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Wes said, sticking to the practiced answer.

  Perrin nodded. “Good. I’m sure you will. You’re a Hifadhi, after all. That name carries immense weight with me. So, welcome to the family.”

  Wes’s eyebrows furrowed. “Wait. That’s it?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “Um,” Wes said, looking around in dismay. “I thought you’re supposed to . . .”

  “Yes?”

  Wes repositioned himself on the chair. “I thought there would be an explanation—”

  Perrin blinked. “Explanation about what, son?”

  “Well, you see, Lek, Sam and Con were telling me that, uh—”

  “Were they telling you stories?” Perrin shook his head. “Ah, Wes, I’m sorry. There’s something you need to know about this family and those who marry into it: we’re a bunch of teasers. I’m afraid your future brothers-in-law may have been having a bit of fun with you. We have a problem with that. Whatever they may have said was just to make you nervous, especially if it was about me. Everyone gets the wrong impression about me, Wes. Just because I was in the army for many years, everyone thinks I’m something scary. But I’m not, Wes. I’m a big old softy. Just ask Lilla.”

  While Wes regarded him with a drop of disappointment, he also seemed drenched with relief. “So they just made up that stuff—”

  Perrin gave him his best innocent look. “About what, son?”

  Wes scoffed. “You would never believe it, General Shin! Oh, I can’t believe they did that to me . . . and I fell for it!”

  Perrin smiled. “I supposed that’s their little ‘Welcome to the family’ prank,” he said weakly. “We’re not very Salem-like sometimes. We need to keep working on that.” He leaned forward slightly. “But not tonight,” he winked. “I’ll tell you what,” he began, and used the last of his strength that evening to push himself up into a semi-sitting position. “When you leave this room, rush out holding your mouth as if you’re trying not to be sick. Make sure you run past all of them, acting horror-stricken, on your way out the side door.”

  Wes laughed out loud.

  “And then,” Perrin said with a mischievous twinkle, “come back in, tell them you could never, ever marry into such a family with a grandfather like me, and announce that you’re calling off the wedding.”

  “Oh General, that’s terrible!” But Wes’s eyes danced as if already seeing the reactions of the family.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll let Hycy in on it so she can play up the part. Maybe you can pretend to whisper something in her ear and she can get her own horrified look as well.”

  Wes burst into a grin. “You’re right, General—people do get the wrong impression about you!”

  “Now, before you bring Hycy back in, promise me one more thing.”

  “Anything, sir!”

  “Call me Perrin or Puggah or Papa Pere—just not General or sir. That was my father.”

  “All right . . . Puggah.”

  Perrin predicted the level of fury and timing of his son’s appearance perfectly. He was waiting patiently for Peto when, a few minutes later, he stormed into his bedroom.

  “What did you SAY to that boy?!” Peto yelled. “Father, he’s positively sick! He wants to call off the wedding, and so does Hycy! How could you?”

  Close on his heels were the young husbands who, just a couple of nights ago, had so carefully prepared poor Wes. Or at least they thought they had. They now looked at their grandfather and uncle with mixtures of shock, anger, and genuine fear.

  Perrin merely smiled at all of them.

  Suddenly shouts of laughter came from the large gathering room.

  Peto’s shoulders sagged as he heard his wife, mother, and the rest of the women laughing. His mouth slowly opened as he turned to look at the confused young men standing with him.

  Hycy marched into the bedroom with a huge smile. “Ha! That’s what you all get for trying to scare my Wes! It was great, Puggah. I wish you could’ve seen their faces!”

  “I see them right now,” Perrin said with a weak laugh. “Don’t worry, Peto. The wedding’s still on. I just needed to teach a few young men about frightening someone unnecessarily.”

  Con pointed a finger at Perrin and started to stammer, “You . . . you . . . you thought we needed a lesson?!”

  Perrin held up a hand. “Boys, boys, I’m really quite tired now. I need to get some sleep. We’ll talk later, all right?”

  Boskos shook his head at Perrin. “I think he’s feeling better. I’m not sure if I’m happy about that now.”

  As the young men filed out of the room, chuckling ruefully and shaking their heads, Lek was the last one, and the look on his face was one of complete confusion.

  “Lek, wait a minute,” Perrin said before he could leave.

  Shem’s oldest son nodded warily at him. “Uncle Perrin?”

  “I’m sorry, Lek. For all of that. I never should’ve tried to intimidate you in the first place when you were marrying Salema. A boy
like you didn’t need to hear such stories.”

  Lek shifted uncertainly. “So, Uncle Perrin, I’ve always wondered, was there ever a . . . a . . .”

  “Guarder suicide ritual?”

  Lek nodded. “Or . . . did you just make that up to scare me?”

  “Oh, it’s real all right. I saw it happen on two occasions. Gruesome. You see, first the man—”

  Lek held up his hands. “All right, all right already. Once was enough,” he smiled nervously. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Uncle Perrin. Someday I’ll figure you out. Obviously today is not that day,” he mumbled as he started for the door.

  “Lek . . . please wait.”

  He turned around.

  “They named you all wrong,” Perrin said quietly. “My great-great-great-grandfather was a brash and aggressive man, from the little I know about him, one of the first generals King Querul the First ever appointed. But you have never been anything but gentle and kind, and I should’ve recognized that marriage wouldn’t change that about you. I should’ve known you’d do nothing but treat my granddaughter like the Creator’s daughter. I am sorry that I sat you down that day before your wedding.”

  Lek blushed and looked down at his feet. “No need to be sorry, Uncle Perrin. Always been a great story. And I’ve always wanted to be bold like you. Maybe one of my boys will be, instead.”

  “And I hope not. The world doesn’t need more brash men like me, Lek. We need more men like you.”

  Lek went purple with bashfulness. “I’ll let you rest now,” he said with a hesitant smile, then headed out the door.

  Only once he was alone again did Perrin sigh in exhaustion and slump on his bed. “All right,” he whispered to himself. “What else? What else do I need to fix? What else?” Hastily he made a list in his head, because he was sure he didn’t have the strength to pick up a sharpened piece of charcoal.

  Mahrree came in a minute later and carefully laid down next to him. “I think everyone’s come through now. You’re still warm, but not so hot anymore.”

  “When do you think they can stop molding me?”

  “Dr. Toon says it’s still festering. Not until it stops can they remove the poultices.”

  Perrin exhaled. “I’m so tired, Mahrree. I’ve never been so weak in my entire life. I’ll be honest—I’m a little concerned.”

  Mahrree tried to cuddle with him without hurting him. “I am too, Perrin. They may have to take the leg if it doesn’t stop.”

  “I’m not worried about that,” he said offhandedly. “I’m concerned that maybe . . . maybe I don’t have enough to overcome this.”

  Mahrree sat up abruptly. “Not enough to overcome a little thorn? You’ve done it before, Perrin Shin!”

  He smiled at her and closed his eyes. “This one’s a little different, my darling wife. And I’m a little older now.”

  “What are you saying?” she demanded.

  “Nothing, Mahrree, calm down.” He opened his dark eyes. “It’s just that we should consider—”

  “I’m considering nothing, Perrin!” she said fiercely. “Shem has asked all of Salem to fast for you tomorrow, to ask the Creator to heal you. There’s nothing more to consider.”

  He laid his hand gently on her arm. “We should consider if the Creator says ‘No’. I’ve had more than my fair share of miracles, Mahrree.”

  “And we can always ask for one more!”

  He patted her clumsily. “Of course we can.”

  ---

  Young Pere was up late in his room, reading by the candle light. Earlier that morning he had been impressed to read how Captain Shin dragged a reluctant Lieutenant Karna—the officer he mentioned a few days ago who was his friend—through the forbidden forest in pursuit of Guarders. Together they killed their first man and first witnessed the Guarder suicide ritual.

  But tonight’s chapter was even more astonishing. The young captain defied all rules of the army by dressing as a man in white and entering the forests again, despite the warnings from Chairman Mal. Young Pere marveled that Captain Shin killed eleven Guarders in the snowy night, one after sustaining the injury on his back that still remained as a faded scar. He blinked in surprise to realize it was a younger Jothan Hifadhi, his sister’s future great-grandfather-in-law, who had finished off one of the Guarders who was choking Captain Shin. He knew there was a history between the Hifadhis and the Shins, but he hadn’t realized how far back it went. And then old Guide Tuma Hifadhi—even further on the family line—made the trip to Edge to bless the Shins with protection, and Shem Zenos signed on officially to be Perrin Shin’s watcher and keeper.

  Young Pere set down the book and wondered how it was that the frail man lying in bed, and his ‘brother’ who wept so easily, could have been the same two men who battled Guarders in Edge, tracked and spied on them in the forests, and trained the strongest, most disciplined men in the army.

  Maybe Aunt Calla got it wrong. She was, after all, in love with one of the heroes of the story.

  Chapter 13--“I’ve had enough surprises in my life.”