The sun had not yet risen when Perrin opened his eyes. Something had awaken him, but he couldn’t place what is was. Alarmed, he sat up and noticed that Peto, too, was opening his eyes and looking surprised that he was awake at this hour, and voluntarily. Shem was also just sitting up, blinking in confusion.
At the same time they all turned to Gleace’s sleeping pack.
It was empty.
Shem scrambled out of his blankets, and Perrin and Peto followed him just as quickly. Together they scanned the dim terrain for Salem’s missing guide.
“There,” Shem whispered.
His distant figure sat at the edge of the cliff, silhouetted against the faint glow of the coming sun.
Shem snatched up his pack and motioned to the Shins. Silently they trotted to the cliff side where Guide Gleace sat cross-legged, staring off into the distance.
“Shem,” he said quietly. “Parchment. Quill. I see it.”
Perrin and Peto exchanged questioning looks as Shem hurriedly pulled out something to write with.
He sat down next to the guide, and Perrin and Peto sat on his other side.
“Over there,” the guide said, his voice strong and clear, and his eyes bright. “From the canyon we came through. That’s the path they’ll take. Around fifty thousand. The army will come to Salem in even greater numbers, but will lose one-third of their soldiers in Salem.” He shook his head as if to clear an image and squinted to focus. “Fear! They’ll be lost to fear.”
Shem rapidly wrote every word.
“Army?” Peto whispered to his father.
But Perrin was fixated on another detail. “Fifty thousand?”
Gleace heard them. “Idumea’s army. The world’s army,” he said, staring straight ahead as if he were counting them. “The Salemites will be in place behind us as they march here. It’s here. It’s here.”
Gleace sucked in his breath as his eyes darted across a distant scene no one else could see. “So much pain before it! Before they reach here . . . So much loss and sorrow! Every family will feel it. No family will escape the grief.” Tears trickled down his face, and his hand gestured as if the men with him could see what he did.
Shem kept writing.
Perrin stared at the man whose face shone as if illuminated by the sun which had yet to rise.
“It will be the final day. The Last Day. This valley will see the end of another Test. The people of Salem will stand in terror at the sight of it.”
The guide twisted to look at the ruin behind him and struggled to get to his feet. Shem, Perrin, and Peto followed.
“They will stand in terror there, but not without hope. Yes!” His clear eyes welled with new wetness as he pointed. “They will stand shoulder to shoulder, unarmed—”
“Unarmed?!” Perrin whispered, a bit too loudly.
Shem shot him a fierce look and kept writing.
The guide nodded. “Unarmed, General, so that they can fully witness the Arm of the Creator coming to their aid. The Deliverer will see them here to safety, before the coming of the Destroyer.”
Perrin took a hard step backward. Unarmed. How could they face fifty thousand soldiers with no weapons?
Peto watched the guide’s face fervently.
“This isn’t Salem’s battle to win,” the guide continued. “It will be the Creator’s. He will fight their final battle for them. His Destroyer will save them!”
Perrin couldn’t imagine anything that could startle him more that morning, until he noticed Gleace was . . . smiling.
“Glorious! Glorious!” he cried, almost cheering. “All sorrow will be erased. All loss will be replaced. Every family will be restored! The end will be so glorious!” He closed his eyes squeezing out fresh tears and nodded at the scene that raced across his mind. “Glorious!” he whispered again.
And then he fell silent, smiling at whatever was in his head.
The three men stared at him intently, wishing they had a glimpse.
Slowly the guide began to sag. Perrin stepped closer, in case the man crumpled. The glow on his face faded, and Gleace opened his eyes which were now weak and cloudy.
“Shem,” he whispered looking to the ruined temple. “Did you get it all?”
“Yes, yes I’m sure I did.” Shem reviewed his writing, correcting sloppily jotted words.
“Guide?” Peto asked reverently.
Gleace continued to stare at the ruins, the coming dawn highlighting the top stones with splashes of golden light. “Yes, Peto?”
“When?”
Shem’s head snapped up, and Perrin watched the guide earnestly. He’d wanted to ask the same question but didn’t dare.
Gleace slowly turned around and offered Peto a frail smile. He put a steadying hand on his shoulder, then one on Shem’s. “You will see the Last Day, my boys.” He turned to Perrin. “We will all see it. No one worthy will miss the Last Day.
“Now,” he said as he fought to keep his eyes open. “Could you please help me back to our campsite? I’m a bit drained—”
Perrin caught him as he collapsed.
Peto took Gleace’s other side, and together they walked him back to the cold fire, with Shem following. They lowered Gleace gingerly to his bedroll where he immediately fell asleep.
Shem sat down by the embers and threw on kindling to revive the fire. “I need to rewrite this more clearly.” He pulled out another piece of parchment and began to copy the words.
Peto sat next to Shem, but Perrin, fascinated and a bit stunned, continued to study the sleeping guide.
Peto cleared his throat, and Perrin shifted his gaze to him.
“Exactly what was all of that?” Peto asked in hushed tones.
“You know as much as I do, Peto.”
“He saw a vision, didn’t he?”
Perrin nodded. The singular experience should have moved him to utter astonishment. He should have been on his knees thanking the Creator to have witnessed such an event that only last season he didn’t think still occurred on the world.
But as he stared at the growing fire, his mind was more astounded by numbers.
“Fifty thousand,” he said to no one in particular. “Fifty thousand. Coming to that valley. But they’ll come to Salem with around seventy-five thousand.”
He pondered those staggering numbers before saying, “How? How so many? There’s only twenty thousand soldiers in the world now, and the garrison houses half of them. Edge had the smallest contingency. Other forts have more, but where would they find another fifty-five thousand? They can barely meet the recruiting quotas now.
“And unarmed?” Perrin continued. “What kind of commander would leave his people facing an army of tens of thousands without weaponry? But it’s the Creator’s battle. So what would He do, send a land tremor? But that would affect those from Salem as well. Some other natural disaster? If the army is in the valley, and the Salemites up here . . . a flood, perhaps? Fire possibly?”
General Shin looked at the surrounding terrain and rubbed his forehead. “Too many unknowns,” he whispered, oblivious to his son watching him. “Equation has too many variables again.”
Peto frowned, not understanding.
“Solved the last equation, in one very fast night. Suddenly all the numbers were known. Security of Salem. How do I secure Salem against seventy-five thousand soldiers? Then twenty-five thousand lost to fear? What could that mean?”
Shem paused in his writing and now watched Perrin addressing the burning embers.
“How in the world do you terrify twenty-five thousand soldiers?”
“Maybe you don’t, Perrin,” Shem said.
Perrin pulled his eyes from the fire and looked at him.
“It’s the Creator’s battle,” Shem reminded him. “That means He already has it planned and readied.”
Perrin sighed. “So how do I know what I do for it?”
“In time, when it’s right, He’ll tell you.”
As if Perrin didn’t have enough worries,
Shem unintentionally dumped another one on his friend. Perrin wasn’t always sure he recognized when the Creator was speaking to him. Too many times he’d made mistakes, only to wonder later if he had missed a prompting.
Frustrated, Perrin sat down by the fire. “I have more questions now than I did last season when Gleace asked me to secure Salem!”
“Then that’s what you do, Perrin,” Shem said simply. “You secure Salem. Your duty is to prepare our people, mark the path for them to get here safely by whatever trails you and Peto develop, then step aside and let the Creator do His will. This isn’t your battle to fight.” Shem paused. “You’re worried, aren’t you? That you won’t know what to do?”
Scoffing lightly, Perrin nodded.
“I have full confidence in you,” Shem said.
“But how, when I don’t have confidence in myself to listen properly? You’re the Assistant! This should be your calling!”
To Perrin’s surprise, Shem smiled. “Have you forgotten the forest already? When Thorne was creeping closer, and the storm was rolling in, it was you the Creator spoke to. It was you He told to line up the horses, and without hesitation you did so. You obeyed him exactly and immediately, and that’s how we all escaped. The Creator didn’t make a mistake in calling you to be our general. You’ll know exactly what to do to help everyone else escape again. You passed a test last season you didn’t even know you were taking.”
Peto watched for his father’s response.
Perrin felt a drop of comfort in his pond of doubt. “Perhaps you’re right. That’s why I was here, wasn’t it, to watch Gleace have that vision and understand what my duty will be. My work will be done before the Last Day even arrives.” He glanced at Peto who was staring at him. “Something wrong, son?”
Peto hesitated. “You sound like . . . you don’t think you’ll be here for it.”
The thought hadn’t occurred to him, so Perrin waved that off. “No one will miss it, right Shem? Something about being worthy?”
Shem nodded as he glanced at his notes. “The Writings say everyone who has passed the Test will witness to the Last Day, Peto. Gleace verified that for us. Even those who have passed on before will see it. Our grandparents and all our ancestors will be here, watching.”
But Peto’s eyes had developed that cynical coloring again, and Perrin knew that wasn’t the answer he was looking for.
Peto look over at the sleeping guide. “He saw more, didn’t he?”
“I’m sure of it,” Shem said. “He’ll go over what I wrote down and maybe add here and there. But I suspect he won’t put in too much. We probably have all he wants us to know.”
“How long do you think he was sitting there?” Perrin asked.
“I don’t know. Last I remember before falling asleep, he went walking to the trees to meditate. I find it interesting we all woke up at the same time. Even Peto.”
“We were supposed to see him, weren’t we?” Peto asked.
Shem nodded. “Guides are the Creator’s mouthpieces, but they don’t work alone. The burden would be too much. He never goes anywhere without an assistant or a rector as a witness to what he does.”
“How often does he have visions like this?” Perrin asked softly.
“I think this may have been the first,” Shem said. “He’s been guide for about twelve years, ever since Hifadhi died. But to have a waking vision? That’s very unusual. I could see it in his face, though. Maybe if I knew how to focus, I could have seen it too.”
“You will,” said Peto, with a hint of a smile. “But you’ll see the real thing, remember?”
Shem hazarded a matching grin. “Peto, I can hardly wait! Well, actually I can. I hope I’m an old gray grandfather when it happens. I want to hold the hands of my grandchildren when the soldiers march in and tell them, ‘Start counting, I know how many there’ll be.’”
Peto chuckled. “I just pictured you as old and gray.”
But Perrin didn’t even smile.
Shem and Peto immediately sobered again.
For several minutes no one said a word, just stared into the fire which gave them something to do, even though the sun was now up and they didn’t need the heat.
Perrin finally broke the silence with, “Salem needs to be ready for anything, in any season. Invasion. Lack of shelter. Lack of supplies. Lack of water—”
“No,” Shem interrupted, “that’s the one thing we have up here. That spring I showed you last night as we were gathering wood? That runs all year long.”
“Well, that’s something. But certainly not enough. They’ll need warnings. They’ll need a route. Several routes.” He appraised the mountains peaks around them. “Starting today. Peto, we need a new route home. I’ll let you, my newly appointed strategist, choose the first possibility. See if you can identify some deer or elk trails. You know, I’m starting to think you might have made a decent officer.”
“Why, thank you, sir,” Peto grinned. “And I think you should assign me a rank, right now. How about colonel?”
“Perrin,” Shem said, “what was that rank lower than a private?”
“There is no rank lower than private,” Peto glared.
“There should be, starting right now,” Shem decided. “How about . . . peon? Peon Peto.”
“That’s not even funny, Shem.”
“Oh, I think it’s funny enough.”
“You won’t think it’s funny when I don’t tell you where the elk routes are before the Last Day—”
“Mark the path,” Perrin’s faraway voice cut into their good-natured squabbling.
“What, Perrin?” Shem asked.
“‘He will call and choose one to mark the path of escape for the valiant,’” Perrin recited Pax’s prophecy. “The routes must be marked in some way, so that everyone, no matter when they travel, can find their own way.”
“How?” Peto wondered.
“Not with signs,” Shem said. “Nothing soldiers could read and understand.”
Perrin stood up as if that would let him see the peaks more clearly. “Those elk trails . . .” he whispered. Louder he asked, “Shem, do elk antlers leave marks on the trees?”
“Sometimes. When they’re trying to shed the antlers they rub up against trees. But Perrin, bears also claw trees,” Shem suggested.
“Yes, they do,” Perrin said distantly. “I once saw a bear that had wandered close to the fort. It tore apart a fallen log looking for grubs. Mahrree and some other teachers came over to look at the carnage to try to learn more about bear behavior.” A smile grew on his face as his eyes continued to wander over the mountains. “They sent their meager findings to Idumea since no one in the world really knows about bears. And certainly nothing about elk! You know, no one from the world would be able to tell the difference between natural and deliberate markings. It would all look the same to their untrained eyes.”
“Oh!” Peto exclaimed. “I see where you’re going with this—”
“Qualipoe Hili.”
Peto paused. “And . . . now I don’t.” He looked for an explanation from Shem.
Shem shrugged.
Smiling vaguely, Perrin said, “Poe and the other boys left signals for the dealers buying their stolen goods. They had exchange stations in unusual places, such as in the crevices of boulders, under bushes, or near the canals. And to signal that something new was waiting, they’d mark it with something natural looking, like stacks of rocks, broken fence posts, overturned crates, and—”
“Slashes on trees!” Shem finished. “Not that I normally approve of copying thieving Guarders, Perrin, but there’s potential there.”
Peto sighed. “That’s what I was going to suggest, marking the trees.”
“But which trees, Peto?” Perrin asked. “And which routes? And what kind of markings could seem natural to soldiers, but could be deciphered even by a small child, should one become lost? And how do we mark the trees without damaging them? Those, Lieutenant Shin,” he said to a grinning Peto, ??
?are your assignments.”
“Yes, sir! Sounds like I need to become a botographer. Geographologist. Bo—”
Shem held up his hands to silence Peto’s attempts at destroying the terms. “One who studies plants and terrain, Peto. Botanist. Geographer.”
Peto shook his head. “You Salemites made up those words. Since now I’m a Salemite, I’m making up botographer.”
---
The sun was high in the sky when Guide Gleace finally woke. Perrin, Peto, and Shem had spent the morning walking along the plateau and plotting potential routes to get there. Instead of leading Salemites up the cliff to the ancient temple site, they would follow a path that deposited them on the plateau. Perrin didn’t say it, but he suspected that they’d need at least a dozen trips to find all of the routes. Maybe even more. He could hardly wait.
During midday meal the men told Gleace of their idea for multiple routes labeled by a marking system on the trees. He smiled in approval, his eyes still looking weary and his face pale.
“But wait . . . Lieutenant Shin wants to become a botographer?”
“There’s a lot we still need to work out, Guide,” Perrin assured him. “Just early planning stages. Very early.”
When Perrin and Peto started to clean up the camp site, Shem sat next to Gleace who thoughtfully nibbled on a sandwich.
“How long were you up last night?” he asked him.
“I’m not sure, Shem. I went to ponder in the trees for a time, then fell asleep. But then I had dreams so terrible that no man could sleep through them. When I awoke, I watched the stars for a while trying to understand the images I saw, but I couldn’t quite hold on to them. So I went for a little walk and found myself at the cliff side. As I looked out over the dark valley I began to see my dream again, but I knew I was conscious. I was there only for a little while before the three of you joined me. That’s when I saw all that would come.” He sighed as he gazed on the green valley, bathed in cheery sunshine.
“I have a clean draft of what you told us, if you’d like to go over it,” Shem held it out to him. “Add more details, that sort of thing.”
Gleace shook his head. “No more to add. You need no more details. If people know too much of what’s to come, they may not choose to be part of it. There’s been enough revealed to get them ready.” He startled Shem next with, “It’s like childbirth. You know the details, I’m sure you do.”
Shem squirmed.
“Yes, yes you do. In less than one year you’ll be facing it, Shem. Watching your own beloved wife struggle and cry out in agony to birth your first child.”
Gleace glanced at Shem’s face, which was a mixture of anticipation and horror.
“So you understand,” Gleace nodded. “It’s not pleasant to think about, is it? As much as you want to become a father, you know someone will have to suffer through the birth, and it won’t be you. If you spend all your time obsessing about it, you won’t have the nerve to face it. Same with the Last Day.”
Shem looked down at his hands and rubbed some invisible dirt off of them.
“Oh, but Shem,” Gleace’s voice brightened and he smiled with the warmth of a dozen suns, “afterward . . . ah, afterward! Glorious!”
---
Going down the cliff side trail was far easier than hiking up. Soon the horses, which seemed to fear straying too far away from the partially enclosed pasture, were loaded up, and the men headed north and east through the forest and up a mountainside to the first dim elk trail Peto wanted to try.
“The route shouldn’t go down into the valley,” Peto said as the path they tried to blaze came level with the flat highland.
Shem let out a low whistle. “The undergrowth is so dense, it would all have to be cut out.”
“So we cut it out!” Peto said, full of zeal.
“Good thing we have time, isn’t it?” Perrin said as he wrestled with a tall shrub.
Several times they became tangled in bushes and vines, and Gleace declared the area had not seen any elk for a very long time.
“So now we know this isn’t a very reliable route,” Peto decided as he pulled at another bur-filled cluster that clung to his trousers’ leg. “We’ll just find easier ones!”
“There’s my Hopeful Duck!” Gleace chuckled. “And yes, that’s the last time I’ll call you that, Peto. At least out loud.”
“Wish I still had my sword,” Perrin muttered as he pushed aside a low hanging tree branch. “Could slash my way through this much faster. Even a hatchet would be useful right now.”
“Look,” Shem said, “I said I was sorry about that, at least five times!”
“But Shem, it’s just that most men know not to whack at a branch that’s overhanging a cliff.”
“My hand was slippery, all right?”
“The branch wasn’t even in our way!”
“It was connected to another branch that was!”
“So hack at that one instead!”
“I was trying to! Then you came over and started telling me my angle was wrong!”
“So adjust your angle! Don’t throw the hatchet over the cliff!”
Shem growled loudly as Perrin chortled and tried to push away another branch.
The guide leaned over to Peto. “Are they always like this?” he whispered.
“Frequently, sir.”
Gleace shook his head. “They remind me of two of my boys when they were fourteen and fifteen.”
“My mother says they’re making up for lost time,” Peto explained. “Since neither of them had a brother when they were teenagers, they act like teenagers together.”
“Sounds about right,” Gleace said. “Ah! Look ahead. Now that’s a deer trail. Couldn’t come to it soon enough. I was beginning to think that one of them would throw the other off the next cliff.”
“They don’t really mean it, Guide,” Peto said, a little worried. “They’re just—”
Gleace nodded at him. “I understand. When some men carry heavy loads, they lighten it a bit on each other.”
Peto furrowed his brows at that confusing insight and shrugged.
---
“She’s going to be so worried about me, I just know it,” Shem fretted again as they finally emerged out of a thick tangle of undergrowth at the base of the mountain to find Salem laid out before them. “We should have been home hours ago.”
“It’s not even nightfall yet, Shem,” Perrin pointed out. They stopped their horses to watch Gleace and Peto pick their ways out of the last of the forest. “We never specified a time we’d be back. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with letting her miss you a little.”
Shem glared at him. “Is that what you would tell yourself when you didn’t make it home to Mahrree when you promised?”
“Yes, I suppose it is. Look, we’re not far from home. We should make it there in half an hour, then you can comfort your bride-to-be.”
“If she’s worried out of her mind, it’s your fault.”
“My fault? How?”
“I don’t know. I’m still working on it.”
When Shem, Perrin, and Peto slowed their horses in front of the Shins’ home, it was to hear laughter, and lots of it.
Shem frowned at the house. “That’s Calla’s laugh.”
“You’re upset that she’s happy?” Peto said.
“Well, I thought she’d be worried, standing outside and waiting for me,” he pouted as he dismounted and tethered his horse.
“She undoubtedly was, Shem,” Perrin said. “Mahrree probably pulled her into the house to tell stories about you. I’m sure she’ll produce some tears for you to wipe away later.” He and Peto walked their horses to the barn as Shem opened the front door.
“We’re back,” he said, a little disappointed that Calla wasn’t weeping.
“Shem!” Calla leaped off the sofa where she sat with Jaytsy and the baby, and rushed into his arms.
“So you did miss me?”
“If we were alone, I’d show you how much,
” Calla whispered.
“Come here, then. I have something to show you.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her to the front porch.
Jaytsy turned to her mother. “What do you think he’s showing her? Oh, wait. Never mind.”
By the time Perrin and Peto came in from taking care of the horses, Mahrree had most of their dinner on the table and Shem sat cuddling Calla on a sofa telling her about the route they took home.
“I see Shem’s doing better,” Perrin said quietly to his wife as he led her into the kitchen to show her how much he missed her.
Peto, getting smarter every day, knew not to follow him but sat on the other sofa with Jaytsy and poked at a roll of fat on baby Salema’s arm.
“Did he have a hard time without her?” Mahrree said.
“Not until this last hour. How did she do?”
“Until an hour ago Calla was pacing up and down on the front porch. It took Jaytsy bringing Salema over for her to play with to lure her into the house.”
“So was this the longest two days of her entire life,” Perrin smirked, “or is she finally speaking to you?”
“Oh, she’s speaking all right! Turns out she was just intimidated. By me, little ol’ Mahrree. How intimidating am I, really?”
“You really expect an honest answer for that?”
“Uh . . . no. So how was the temple ruin?”
“Very interesting. Lots to tell you. But later when we won’t be interrupted. I have a granddaughter to squeeze first.”
Salema was practicing a goo sound at Peto when Perrin swooped down and snatched her out of her mother’s arms.
“There’s my little girl!” he said as her eyes grew big and an attempt at Shin-like grin appeared on her toothless face.
“I think she missed you,” Jaytsy said, but Perrin had only eyes for Salema as he sat down with her. “By the way, nice to see you again too, Father,” she sighed. “How’s Deck? Oh, he’s fine. One of the bulls got out and gave him quite a chase this morning through the garden, but no one cares because he’s not the baby!”
“I’m sorry, Jayts, what was that?” Perrin asked, still making faces at Salema who stared at him in fascination.
“Nothing, Father. So Peto, how was the trip?”
“Great, until Uncle Shem threw the hatchet off a cliff—”
“I did NOT, for the LAST TIME, throw the hatchet off a cliff!”
“No,” Perrin said in a cheery sing-song voice to his granddaughter. “He dropped it. Yes he did, Salema. Guide Gleace’s hatchet. Aaaaaall the way down! But at least he won the right to be the first to kiss Calla on their wedding day. That’s his thanks to the guide for throwing the iron ball dropping contest. Yes it was. Yes it was!”
Calla was sufficiently confused. “What? A contest? A hatchet?”
Mahrree, who was putting the last of their dinner on the table, said, “Sometimes, Calla, it’s best not to know the details. They all came home safely, that’s all we need to know. But it sounds like there’d better not be any more camping trips for you boys.”
“Oh, but there will be,” Peto exclaimed. “We need at least a dozen to find the best routes. Probably more, though.”
“A dozen more?” Mahrree said. “Calla, on second thought, we better get every detail so we can make a list of what they can’t do next time.”
“Wives just ruin all the fun,” Peto decided. “That’s why I’m never getting one. Can you imagine a female on the trip?”
No one responded to him. Perrin was rubbing noses with Salema hoping to elicit her first giggle, Jaytsy went out the door to retrieve Deck for dinner, and Shem and Calla were whispering to each other on the sofa and smiling shyly.
But Mahrree heard him. “Poor Peto,” she murmured to herself. “All the words you’re going to have to eat someday . . .”
---
Dr. Frenulum nodded slowly in encouragement as his patient stood in front of him. “Yes, very good . . . that top button’s going to be your trickiest one, I think.”
Lemuel’s left hand trembled with frustration as he tried to force the silver button through the hole.
“If I may—” and Frenulum started to give Captain Thorne another hand, but the young officer twisted out of his reach.
“Sir,” the surgeon said kindly, “I admire your resolve, I do. Your determination is commendable. But you can accept help—”
“That’s why you do my belt, Doctor,” Lemuel muttered, almost getting that top button this time . . . this time . . . this time . . .
Frenulum licked his lips anxiously. “Sir, I don’t know that I’m giving you enough advice. But there’s a surgeon at the garrison—”
“I’m not going back to Idumea,” Lemuel said, his tone growing exasperated. Every response he gave broke his concentration.
This time . . . this time . . .
“Just for a season or two, Captain, until you can learn to fully function on your own. Then you can come back here—”
“No. They’d never let me come back. I need to stay here.”
He didn’t add, Because I need to be near the forest. Because I need to look for evidence. Because I need to find Jaytsy.
Because I have to be able to button my own blasted buttons to take care of Jaytsy and her son.
This time .
Chapter 28--“Just our luck that Shem is the most famous man in Salem.”