Jothan and Perrin slid back down the bank to the Shins waiting on the trail.

  “Some movement,” Perrin whispered. “On the road, still far away, but the soldiers were running. The towers aren’t lit yet—”

  “Soldiers don’t normally run unless there’s a reason,” Jothan said, watching Jaytsy for her response to their update.

  But Deck answered with, “Do you force all expecting women to walk until they collapse?” It was the most rancor Mahrree had ever heard from her son-in-law.

  “No,” Jothan said apologetically. “We usually give them a comfortable ride in the back of a hay wagon to about this point, where we disgorge our secret load out of sight. Most women need to walk only a few hundred paces to the forest from here. We can’t exactly drive the hay wagon all of the way to the forest’s edge. Nor could we run a hay wagon in the middle of the night from your house.”

  “Hay’s not as comfortable as it may seem,” Jaytsy murmured. “Pokes your skin. Deck and I once went into the hay loft to try—”

  Deck’s frantic throat clearing stopped her.

  Mahrree looked away to smirk at her husband, whose eyebrows had gone up.

  “It’s comfortable the way we make it,” Jothan told Jaytsy, generously ignoring Jaytsy’s earlier suggestion. “While on the outside it looks like an overstuffed wagon of hay, it’s mostly an enclosed crate with pillows and blankets and even a trap door so women can relieve themselves along the way.”

  Peto smiled at that.

  “There’s access to the crate below the driver’s seat so children can go back and nap with their mothers, and messages and food can be passed. On the driver’s seat is one of our scouts, and posing as a sister or mother, depending upon her age, is a midwife. The wagon’s quite roomy and comfortable.”

  “I’ve seen that wagon,” Perrin said. “Never knew where it was going, or why it turned around here. I just thought it was lost.”

  “So it worked as we planned,” said Jothan.

  “Well, there’s no wagon for me right now,” Jaytsy looked up at them. “We need to get to the trees then, don’t we?”

  “I can guarantee your safety there.”

  “Then let’s go,” she grunted, struggling to her feet. “My legs will catch up later. And no, Deck—I don’t need to be carried!”

  Mahrree patted her arm and let Deck follow her, behind Peto and Jothan. Jaytsy soon began to waddle slower, but when Jothan offered to let her stop again, she shook her head.

  The tree line loomed closer, the slope shifting as it rose up to meet the edge of the forest. Mahrree realize the path was putting them in view of the farmlands and even the patrols who normally rode along the edge.

  Jothan stopped before the disappearing path came level with the farmlands, and crouched to huddle the family around him.

  “This is the only tricky part. We have to run about thirty paces to reach the trees. Deckett, you and I will be on either side of Jaytsy, and when I whisper ‘now,’ we’ll rush her into the forest. Jaytsy, don’t worry about keeping up—we can drag you at a good pace. Perrin, help Mahrree. Peto, stay near them. Should something happen, you catch up to me and let me know.”

  Mahrree squeezed Perrin’s hand, and he squeezed it back, a bit too tightly.

  “Jaytsy, are you ready?” Jothan whispered.

  “I’m not getting any skinnier.”

  Jothan took her left side, while Deckett took her right, then everyone watched the west and held their collective breath.

  There was nothing to see or hear.

  Finally Jothan whispered, “Now.” He and Deck stood up and sprinted awkwardly to the forest, dragging Jaytsy between them like an overstuffed scarecrow. Mahrree almost forgot to run herself until Perrin yanked her along, Peto running by his side.

  Soon they dove into the woods, and for a moment Mahrree marveled how upside down her life had become. Fifteen years ago she ran into here, terrified; now she ran into there, relieved.

  They found Deck and Jothan helping Jaytsy sit down behind a massive boulder about forty paces in.

  “Put your feet up,” Jothan was instructing her. “On the rock. You need to get your feet above the height of your heart.”

  “What’s wrong?” Mahrree asked, coming over.

  “I can’t feel my legs,” Jaytsy whispered.

  Mahrree touched her ankle that was no longer there. “Yes, you’re swelling up.”

  “What does that mean?” Peto sounded genuinely concerned.

  “It’s usually not too serious,” Mahrree told him, hoping that was true, “but the best thing to do is rest with her feet up.”

  Jaytsy pulled her leg away. “Well, that’s not possible, is it?” She slid off the boulder and struggled to stand back up like an ant heaving an unwilling watermelon. “We’re going to make it over that mountain and whatever else we need to do! Jothan, what’s next? Jothan?”

  There was no answer.

  There was no Jothan.

  Perrin shot Mahrree a look which chilled her. She put her finger to her lips and gently pushed Jaytsy behind the rock and crouched next to it. Deck shielded Jaytsy on the other side, but from what, they didn’t know.

  “I knew it!” Peto whispered furiously as he stepped behind a tree.

  Before Mahrree could panic, or wonder what Peto thought he knew, she heard faintly in the distance the snort of a horse.

  Perrin slipped behind a shrub, and Mahrree’s heart thumped madly.

  “Mother!” Jaytsy whispered urgently. “Deck!”

  “What’s wrong?” Deck whisper back, panicked.

  Jaytsy gasped, squirmed, and gasped again. “When I crouched behind this boulder, I felt . . . oh, ow!”

  Mahrree’s mind sent up a frantic prayer. “What’s happening?”

  “I need to relieve myself again!” Jaytsy whimpered. “This is unbearable! What should I do? I’m going to wet myself!”

  Deck’s head quietly thudded the boulder in relief, and Mahrree sent a follow-up, Never mind prayer. “I honestly don’t know, Jaytsy. Of all things . . . you sound like a six year-old!”

  “I can’t help it! Oh, this was a bad idea. I know I should have waited to go to Salem later—”

  “Shhh!” whispered Deck. “No more of that talk! Just do your thing right here.”

  “What?! I’m in breeches, and that’s disgusting!”

  “No it’s not. I do it all the time in the field.”

  “Out in the open?”

  “No one cares! You think you’re going to find a forest washing room nearby?”

  “Hush, you two!” Mahrree hissed. “Jaytsy, just hold it for a minute.”

  “A minute? I’ll be drenched in a minute!”

  Perrin, who had been frantically waving at them to be quiet, stood up cautiously and started to creep toward the forest’s edge.

  Mahrree wished Peto was closer. He kept moving behind the tree at different angles, and, because he probably no longer knew which spot actually constituted ‘behind,’ he was backing around the tree in a slow, perpetual circle.

  A few moments later Perrin bounded back to them, with Jothan. Perrin ran past Peto and pulled his dizzy son behind the rock where the others hid.

  “Horses,” Perrin whispered. “At least two, moving parallel to us. There’s a lot of activity in the distance. Jothan thinks we may have been found out.”

  “So what’s the plan?” Deck asked.

  “Jothan’s going to try to—”

  But muffled hoof beats coming from the opposite direction stopped him, and Mahrree froze in terror.

  Jothan appeared by Perrin. “Up now. Move!” he whispered.

  Mahrree and Deck hoisted Jaytsy up by her arms, but found themselves face to face with a large black draft horse. As the beast snuffed into Mahrree’s hair, she decided she needed a forest washroom as well. She wondered if Jaytsy still had a problem.

  A second black horse appeared just as suddenly, trapping Peto against the boulder next to them.

 
“I knew it!” he whispered.

  Jaytsy whimpered as two figures quickly slid off their mounts and rushed toward her with a large, thick fishing net.

  “No!” Mahrree exclaimed. “You can’t—”

  Jothan’s hand quickly covered her mouth. “Stay quiet,” he whispered. “This is our help.”

  Mahrree couldn’t have spoken if she wanted to, because there were suddenly bodies—dozens of them—pouring out of the forest above them like a rock fall. Wild-eyed, she glanced over to Perrin who had taken a defensive stance and looked vulnerable without sharpened steel in his hands.

  Peto cowered behind him, mumbling, “This is it, this is it—”

  That was because the men who surrounded them weren’t dressed in mottled clothing like Jothan; they were dressed in all black.

  They were dressed as Guarders.

  “Jothan?” said Perrin, his voice tinged with panic.

  “This is our help,” Jothan repeated, patting Mahrree comfortingly on the back.

  “That’s right!” a young man near Perrin said, oddly cheerful. “We’re here to kill you!”

  “What?” Peto gasped. “I knew it! Father, you have to listen to me now—”

  But he stopped, because even in the dark everyone could see that Perrin was breaking into a grin.

  Jaytsy, however, squirmed in a painful dance against her bladder while Deckett kept a firm hold on her.

  Jothan sighed at their ‘killer.’

  “Woodson, we appreciate your enthusiasm, but if you forget your training on your first mission, it’s not going to look good on my report.”

  Woodson shrugged apologetically.

  “Wait a minute,” Peto said, peering closer at Woodson in the darkness. “You’re wearing my clothes!”

  “Yep! I’m playing you tonight.”

  Mahrree noticed he was roughly the same age as her son, and her belly twisted in worry. He was young, far too young.

  Perrin grinned wider. “I believe I know what’s about to happen. The Guarders are making a return. Am I right, Jothan?”

  “Spoken like a man of the forest, as we’ve always known you were.”

  Then Mahrree understood. “Just like Guide Pax! Everyone thought he was dead, so no one bothered to look for him. The men with him killed a deer, put the blood on their hands, and told King Querul they had killed Pax.”

  “Very good, Mrs. Shin,” said a tall man next to her. “We took down an old doe not too long ago. When we’re finished with your clothes—” and Mahrree realized that he was wearing Perrin’s shirt and trousers, “—we’ll splash the doe’s blood on them and tear them up. The story will be that Colonel Shin didn’t kill all the Guarders in Moorland—although rest assured, we’re quite sure he did—but that a few dozen remained. We are those ‘Guarders’ tonight. Once you’re safely to the boulders, we’ll make a bit of commotion at the edge of the forest and throw out your bloodied clothing. This is the Guarders’ revenge, you see: the death of the Shins and Briters.”

  “Normally we just slip people away,” Jothan explained, “but the entire world would be looking for Perrin Shin and his family if they went missing. But if it’s obvious that the Shins and Briters were killed, then that’s the end and the forests are secure once again. I’m sorry,” he said in a gentler tone. “While it will come as quite a shock to the world, we couldn’t think of any other alternative besides ‘killing’ you all.”

  Jaytsy whimpered, but not because of the news.

  “And why are two dozen men keeping this poor thing trapped here?” The voice came from next to Jaytsy, and was surprisingly female. “Come here, Mrs. Briter. Out of sight of these men who should know better about expecting women’s needs.”

  “Sorry, Barb,” several men whispered. “And Mrs. Briter,” a few more added.

  “Barb’s our midwife for the evening,” Jothan explained to Mahrree, staring after her daughter who had disappeared behind a more secluded boulder. “And a woman with a small bladder herself. Jaytsy’s in the best possible hands, now.”

  Deckett sighed in relief. “Now maybe I can find a tree to water.”

  Another man in green mottled clothing appeared next to Jothan. Mahrree blinked, wondering where he came from.

  “What are all of you doing here, chatting up a storm?” he chided. “You all get to meet the Shins later. Right now we’ve got a problem.”

  Perrin stared hard at the man.

  He turned to Perrin. “Sir, the entire fort is on alert. You three,” the man pointed at Woodson, the man dressed in Perrin’s clothes, and—Mahrree caught only a passing glimpse of him—the unfortunate soul traipsing around in her blue linen dress, “Plan D. Move it!”

  The three of them took off without another word, with half a dozen men in black in pursuit.

  The Guarders were chasing the Shins.

  Mahrree didn’t know whether to laugh at them or pray for them.

  The man in mottled green had already turned back to Perrin. “And sir, some of your former soldiers look as if they’re about to enter the forests. Obviously they know you’re gone, and they’re desperate. Thorne’s hovering near the trees with ten men. ”

  Perrin gaped. “He’s going in?”

  Someone let out a low whistle.

  “Contingency two, already,” Jothan announced to the remaining men in black, now anxious to get moving. “Find the other groups and tell them if they haven’t figured it out yet. Don’t worry, Perrin,” Jothan told him as the men around them dispersed as quickly as fog on a hot day.

  But Perrin caught hold of the man in mottled green.

  “We knew this might happen,” Jothan assured him. “We didn’t think it would happen so early in the night, though.”

  Perrin was still studying the man in green whose bicep he gripped. “Do I know you?”

  “In a way,” the man said softly.

  “Your voice,” Perrin pointed at him, “I know I’ve heard that voice before. But it feels like it was long time ago.”

  “It wasn’t my voice, but my father’s,” the man said. “I’ve been told I sound just like him, and look like him, too—”

  “Oh no,” Perrin released his arm and took a step back.

  Mahrree turned to the man who didn’t seem familiar at all.

  “Look,” the man said, “it’ll take a lot longer than we have to explain everything. We have to get you moved and ‘killed.’ We’ll talk later. But I’m glad you’re finally in the forest with us where you’ve always belonged. And know this: all is forgiven.” He slapped Perrin on the back, and then he was gone.

  Perrin rubbed his forehead.

  “All is forgiven?” Mahrree frowned.

  “Who was that?” Deck asked, returning from his tree watering.

  “I . . . can’t believe it,” Perrin said. “I—”

  Jaytsy and the midwife’s return halted Perrin’s stammering.

  “Are you all right?” Deck asked his wife.

  “Yes, much better!” Jaytsy whispered, her tone now as light as her bladder.

  But before the mystery of the green man could be explained, Jothan nudged Perrin. “Two riders, by the tree line.”

  Perrin squinted into the darkness. “How can you see that far?”

  “Years of practice. I’ll show you how we distract soldiers.”

  “Be right back. I want to see this,” Perrin whispered to his family, and headed after Jothan.

  “Well, how do you like that?” Barb said as Perrin trotted after Jothan. “Left us already. Going to be one of those nights. Everything’s going to happen quickly, and so should we.” She slapped Deck on the back. “Time to work. Husband and Grandmother—”

  Mahrree, stunned that every minute brought a new turn of events, looked around before she realized she was “grandmother.”

  “—right over here,” Barb commanded in a whisper. It wasn’t until then that Mahrree realized another large man in black was by one of the horses, turning the massive beast around.
>
  Barb took Deck’s arm and led him to a pack on the front horse. She handed him several long wooden staffs which were strapped to the saddle, and showed him how to connect them into a long pole.

  “You,” the midwife pointed at Peto. “The uncle I assume? Hold the lead horse in place until we finish.”

  Peto, surprised by the label of “uncle,” obediently went to hold the bridle of the horse in front.

  The man in black ruffled Peto’s hair as if he were seven years old before he jogged over to the second horse.

  The midwife took the net of ropes and unfolded it to reveal that it was large enough to hold a person. She looped one narrowed end on to the pole, and Deck fastened the pole to a ring on the lead horse’s saddle.

  “Grandmother, run the other half of the net litter through the end of the pole,” Barb held it up for Mahrree. “Our mother will sit in it.”

  Jaytsy giggled quietly. “She called you ‘Grandmother’!”

  “And you ‘Our mother’!”

  Mahrree was shaking as she tried to work, but because of what she wasn’t sure: that the soldiers were looking for them, the sudden arrival of the men and horses, or the word ‘grandmother.’

  “Call me Mahrree, please,” she said, but that didn’t make her feel calmer yet.

  The midwife took up the other end of the pole and attached it to a ring on the rear horse, suspending the net litter between them while Mahrree fumbled to open it.

  The bulky man in black stepped over to Jaytsy and whispered, “Really, the litter’s quite comfortable. Unless you want my mount? I’m sure you’d enjoy some jostling right now.”

  “Shem!” Jaytsy cried in a whisper. She caught his arm and kissed his cheek as he and Deck helped her into the net.

  Peto and Mahrree spun to see the man they didn’t recognize before.

  He was wearing a dull black jacket.

  Peto rested his head against the horse and sighed.

  Deck patted Shem on the back. “We’ve missed you!”

  “Likewise!” Shem adjusted the netting on the long pole.

  “Shem, am I happy to see you!” Mahrree said, giving him a big hug from behind so as to not impede his adjustments.

  Shem chuckled softly at the awkward embrace. “Mahrree, I have something to say to you,” he said as he tightened a few straps. “Years ago in the forest, not too far from this very spot, a woman said to you, ‘Someday will come for you. There will be a day when you will be ready to leave it all behind and embrace the truth . . .’”

  Shem turned around to face her, and she could just make out that his expression was a mixture of amusement and sorrow.

  “I planned for years to be the one to repeat to you Mrs. Yung’s speech. I’m so sorry I missed it. So often I wanted to—”

  She put a finger on his lips. “It’s all right, Shem. The point is that we’re here now.”

  “At least I can now tell you that I’m the one who set Barker on you that night. I wanted you to have a guard on your way home.”

  Peto scowled at Shem talking to his mother.

  And Shem noticed. “But we’ll talk about all of this later.”

  “This really is quite comfortable!” Jaytsy whispered from the net as she gently swayed, cradled between the two black horses.

  Perrin emerged from the darkness. “Never realized how a carefully thrown rock at the canal can unnerve soldiers. Shem, is that really you? Something’s gone wrong?”

  “I left with ten soldiers to check on movements to the west, but Thorne was very paranoid today. He hasn’t been able to find something,” Shem emphasized. “While I was out, Kiren, Barb’s usual riding companion, signaled me from the fresh spring. I sent the soldiers ahead and stayed behind. Kiren told me Thorne had just sent out soldiers everywhere. He’s probably emptied the fort. The sedation must have worn off early, or someone went by the house and noticed the guards unconscious. Perrin, they know you’re missing.”

  Mahrree saw the bleak expressions on Deck and Peto’s faces, and that Jaytsy was nervously biting her lip.

  “If no one else will say what we’re all thinking,” she said, “then I will: we have no chance, do we?”

  “Mahrree, we have every chance!” Shem declared, trying too hard to sound confident. “No one’s ever followed us through this forest successfully, and tonight will be no different. Kiren has already diverted my soldiers into a marsh. The horses will sink up to their withers this time of year.”

  “Which still leaves well over a hundred soldiers,” Perrin mumbled.

  “And we have nearly two hundred, Perrin, scattered throughout the forest and running into Edge. Tonight’s going to be messy. Killing someone always is,” Shem smiled wryly. “But we can handle messy.”

  Jothan joined them. “The decoys are heading into Edge. That’ll send the majority of the soldiers searching the village. Our ‘Guarders’ will lead them on wild turkey chases, and our men in the forests will confuse any who try to sneak in. Don’t worry. We’ll divert them all.”

  Still Perrin rubbed his forehead. “I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m not entirely sure that your so-called Guarders can handle the soldiers. Except for,” he added, as if he just remembered, “that man in green. Why did I recognize his voice?”

  Shem smiled slightly. “Who did he sound like?”

  “Oh, but it doesn’t make any sense,” Perrin said. “Why, he’s been gone for—”

  “He may be gone,” Shem said enigmatically, “but not his son.”

  Perrin exhaled. “He sounded like King Oren!”

  Mahrree rounded on him. “Oren’s dead!”

  “I know,” said Perrin dully. “It was my father who ordered his execution, remember?”

  “I do,” Peto mumbled.

  “Oh,” Deck said. “If that was Oren’s son, and your father killed his father . . . that’s a little awkward.”

  “And there it is,” Peto added darkly.

  Shem put his hands on his hips and stared at Peto, who glared back. Shem opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, then turned to Perrin instead.

  “Yes, that was Dormin, son of Oren. The Yungs brought him to Salem years ago. Dormin’s become one of our best scouts, and quite a convincing face and voice for those who still struggle to accept our truths. Everyone knows King Oren’s sons died years ago.”

  “Amazing!” Perrin twisted to see where the king’s last son had disappeared.

  “Perrin, if we can get Dormin out—and that was another very messy night—we can get all of you out as well.”

  “But my grandfather killed his father!” Peto exclaimed. “Father, listen to me!” he grabbed Perrin’s arm. “Think about this clearly—how can we be sure Dormin’s not waiting to take his revenge on us?”

  Mahrree’s mouth dropped open at the suggestion, but seeing the earnestness of her son, she had to consider that maybe he had a point.

  But Barb simply scoffed at that. “Dormin was convinced of the uselessness of the kings long before he met the Yungs,” she said as she adjusted her riding gloves. “And if he wanted to kill you, he would’ve done it years ago. Besides, didn’t you hear what his last words were?”

  “All is forgiven,” Mahrree sighed. “How remarkable.”

  “That he is,” Barb said, mounting her horse. “And as he also said, we need to get moving! Shem, we’re all ready.”

  Perrin gently pried Peto’s hand loose. “It’ll be all right, son.”

  Peto whispered back, “Because these strangers say so? How do you know this isn’t a trap?”

  Mahrree overheard, and her eyes met Perrin’s.

  “I don’t,” Perrin whispered, “but this is one of those times I guess I just have to have faith.”

  “In who?!” Peto hissed.

  “Not necessarily in these people, Peto,” Perrin whispered, “but in the Creator who told me to follow them.”

  Pleadingly, Peto turned to Mahrree.

  She nodded her agreement, a
nd Peto threw up his hands in aggravation.

  Something was up with their son, that was clear. But what that was, she had no idea. Looking for suggestions, she turned to Shem, but he was with Deck and Jaytsy.

  “These horses have brought up many women over the years, with no losses,” he told them as Deck eyed the netting and Jaytsy squeezed his hand. “They know how precious their load is.”

  Deck nodded, but he rubbed his eyes as he crouched by his wife to share a few last words.

  Shem turned to Jothan. “You’ll need to take Kiren’s place with Barb. We’ll all meet you at the First Resting Station.”

  “Shem, what do you mean?”

  “I think I’ve just given my resignation, too. I was hoping that by abandoning my horse it would look like I had been taken or got lost.” He turned to Perrin. “I’m fairly confident Thorne may be soon looking for me as well. On my bunk after dinner were transfer notice papers. I never bothered to open them.”

  Perrin gripped Shem’s shoulder. “Transfer to Salem? Excellent idea!” He pulled Shem into a quick hug.

  Mahrree grinned.

  Peto glared.

  Jothan patted Shem’s back. “Your father’s going to be one happy man. Now don’t disappoint him and fail to show up,” he warned as he mounted the other draft horse.

  Deck saw his time was up and he kissed Jaytsy. “I’ll be right behind you, I promise,” he said, squeezing her hand.

  “I know you will be,” Jaytsy said.

  Deck released her as the horses were kicked into a walk. Her body lurched, then rocked gently as her waving form was carried away into the dark woods.

  Perrin clapped a comforting hand on his son-in-law’s shoulder, and Mahrree tearfully returned her daughter’s wave. “How do they know where to go?” she whispered. “Don’t the trees get in the way?”

  “The rings on the saddles pivot,” Shem explained, “and we cut irregular paths for cover. And notice that their bridles make no noise? We pad everything with black lambs’ wool.”

  “She’ll be all right, Mother,” Peto said worriedly, and glanced over at Shem. “Safer than us, I think.”

  Shem folded his arms. “Peto, you all right?”

  “Oh, I’m just fine,” Peto said sardonically. “No problems.”

  “You are safe, now,” Shem told him. “If I wasn’t confident all of you will reach Salem, I wouldn’t be doing this tonight.”

  “Oh, really?” Peto said with so much animosity that his parents stared at him.

  Shem took a deep breath. “I get it. You don’t trust me y—”

  “You haven’t given me much reason to!”

  Perrin raised his eyebrows, and Mahrree exclaimed, “Peto!”

  Shem held up his hand but kept his eyes on Peto. “No Mahrree, it’s all right. Dormin felt the same way the night we moved him. I had killed his brother Sonoforen, after all. But Dormin and I reached an understanding, and we’ve been good friends ever since. And Mahrree,” he turned to her. “That boy, Woodson, who’s playing Peto and was so eager to ‘kill’ your family? He was born in this forest, part of that same group as Dormin. All of that happened on the same night you decided to march into here and find out what was going on.”

  “Oh dear!” she chuckled apologetically. “That was a messy night, wasn’t it?”

  “At first Mrs. Yung thought you were Dormin,” Shem explained. “But everyone got sorted in the end, and the group of thirteen that entered the forest was fourteen with newborn Woodson.

  “I can’t make any guarantees about tonight,” Shem continued, catching Peto’s skeptical gaze. “And I don’t have time to win your trust right now. We’ve tried to prepare for every possible outcome, which means we’re going to miss something. But all of us want your family to reach Salem safely, because you’re so important to us.”

  “And why is that?” Perrin asked.

  Peto raised a questioning eyebrow.

  “Because every person is important, Perrin.”

  Mahrree was about to point out that line sounded a little too pat, but Shem suddenly held up his hand.

  Perrin nodded. There were more horses, their bridles jangling as they trotted along the edge of the forest. The soldiers usually only walked their horses, but tonight they were in a hurry.

  Shem twitched a complicated signal to Perrin who immediately pushed Mahrree to him. Mahrree barely caught the unfamiliar signal Perrin winked back to Shem, and Shem grasped her hand tightly while Perrin took her other hand. Perrin then reached back and took Peto’s hand, nodding to Deck to hold on to Peto.

  “You’re just going to have to trust me. Whatever you do,” Shem whispered to them, “don’t let go of anyone!”

  “But—” Peto protested before being dragged into the forest.

  Shem darted off to the northwest, pulling everyone behind him.

  Mahrree struggled to keep up with his pace, stumbling over fallen tree branches and tripping over the occasional rock. Shem kept a firm hold on her as he led them through the forest, and she clung on to Perrin’s hand behind her. Occasionally she glanced back to see her son and son-in-law holding tight to their chain of people.

  They weaved in and out of trees, behind bushes, around rocks, and between more trees until Mahrree was sure even the foliage was confused. They rushed behind a loud steam vent, then dashed around a foul smelling spring. Shem moved so quickly that before Mahrree could realize they should be alarmed by what they had just passed, they encountered another bizarre and violent manifestation of nature.

  It must have been the fastest tour of the forest in history.

  In any other circumstance she would have been exhausted by the pace and the late hour, but every inch of her was filled with so much anxiety it propelled her onward.

  ---

  “Over there! Someone . . . over there!”

  Radan gripped the reins of his horse and shouted to the ten following him. “Movement behind the gristmill! After them!”

  His soldiers raced ahead of Radan as his mount impatiently stomped the ground of the marketplace.

  Second-in-commands don’t put themselves in danger. That’s what enlisted men are for.

  Behind Radan five more soldiers went shouting, and there—

  Oh slag, there they were—

  Guarders! All in black, shouting and whooping like irate owls. Radan wasn’t sure who was chasing who. More soldiers, more men in black, all yelling and running—

  “We found her!” one of his ten called, rushing back. “Mrs. Briter!”

  Radan kicked his horse and rounded the mill. At the commotion of soldiers, he slid off his mount and strode over to them. With so many soldiers, surely those clusters of Guarders wouldn’t stop here.

  Radan spied the orange dress right off in the sea of blue uniforms, the wearer of it hiding her face and trembling.

  Well, Radan thought, at least Thorne will have Jaytsy Shin. Obviously he wanted the baby as his son, but how long did he expect to keep Jaytsy?

  “Mr. Briter,” Radan said to her nervous husband, held by two soldiers, “why have you brought your wife into such a dangerous situation? One might argue you don’t deserve such a woman.”

  He gingerly took Jaytsy’s arm and—

  “Well hello, handsome,” Jaytsy Briter said in the most grotesque and gravelly voice Radan had ever heard.

  He yelped and released the creature’s arm, and the face—that craggy face with a bulbous nose and a scruffy beard . . . a beard?—laughed at Radan’s expression.

  “So I guess that is an appropriate opening line. Little message here, from the Guarders,” said the man—yes, it was a man, and he was hideous. “We’re back and out for revenge. And by my calculations,” he sized up the crowd of uniforms, “this won’t take much effort at all. Boys?”

  And just that quickly Radan and his men were surrounded by two dozen more in black, or maybe a hundred, and what happened next Radan wasn’t quite sure, except that he ended up flat on his back, someone
’s fist having placed itself well on his nose, and there was shouting and laughter, and by the time he was able to shake the fog from his brain and struggle to his knees, all of his soldiers were also slowly getting up from the ground, dazed and bloodied from the fastest, most lopsided fist fight Edge had ever seen.

  The fact that none of them were killed seemed little consolation, and Radan, as he warily climbed back on to his horse, wondered what happened to Mrs. Briter that such a repulsive man now had her clothes and was running away with Mr. Briter.

  About ten minutes later Radan and his men stumbled to the southwest gates of the fort. Radan wanted nothing more than to collapse on a cot in the surgery to let his nose stop bleeding.

  But when he saw Offra, mounted with his ten and blocking the gate, he knew that wasn’t about to happen.

  “Thorne wants you at the forest’s edge, five minutes ago.”

  “But we’ve been punched by Guarders!” Radan exclaimed, ignoring how lame that sounded. “My soldiers need attending to—”

  “Thorne thinks he’s found Shin, that they went into the forest.”

  Radan’s shoulders dropped. “So he’s gone, then?”

  Offra shook his head. “Thorne wants to pursue him. If we’re not there in the next few minutes, he’ll demote us.”

  “To what?” Radan cried, prodding his horse back to the road. “This is madness!”

  Offra sighed in agreement, and Radan realized it was the first thing they had agreed on in weeks.

  “Apparently Shin headed into the forests on a couple of occasions,” Offra told him, “and Thorne’s eager to prove he’s as capable. Or as stupid.”

  “So,” Radan said with a hint of triumph as their twenty men reluctantly followed them, “your little hero worship of Perrin Shin is finally coming to an end?”

  “Of course not,” Offra said, scanning the darkness before him. “I hope he escapes. But where will he escape to?”

  Radan scoffed at that. “There is no escape. He’ll come running out of that forest, terrified. Where’s Zenos, anyway?”

  “In the forest.”

  “So it’s confirmed?” Radan released a low whistle. “What the slag does he think he’s doing?”

  “I don’t know,” Offra said. “I wish I did. But Thorne said something odd when he got the news. He said, ‘Slagging Zenos really was one of them’.”

  Radan scowled. “One of them? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I was hoping you’d know,” Offra grumbled. “Realize this, Radan: Thorne’s been keeping things from us. From you. When all of this shakes down, and when Genev arrives, we’ll have to explain what happened. Some of this will shake down on us unless we can prove Thorne didn’t tell us all he knew. Our only hope to retaining our commissions is to drop it all on Thorne, whose leadership—or lack thereof—has led to six more soldiers deserting just this evening, and contributed directly to the loss of the Shins and Briters.”

  “Oh, no, no. I know where the Briters are! At least, Mr. Briter. He was running away with the ugliest cross-dresser I’ve ever met. Who knew, right? Proves you just can’t always tell with some men.”

  Offra stared at him. “Had you ever met Mr. Briter?”

  “I recognized his clothes from the descriptions—”

  “Decoys, Radan! They were decoys!”

  Radan considered the possibility. “Oh.”

  “Which leaves the more disturbing question of, where are the real Briters? But don’t tell Thorne about that just yet. Look,” Offra whispered, seeing that Thorne and his ten were less than a hundred paces away, “I don’t like you, and you don’t like me. But I hate Thorne even more. He’ll drag us down with him unless we claw our way out of this together. Thorne’s not going to be in any position to do you any favors after tonight. Understand?”

  “I think so.”

  “But if both of us come out of this looking better than him, either one or both of us may get promoted and get out of here.”

  Radan blinked. “When did you become so scheming?”

  “The last three weeks have been the longest of my life,” said Offra. “Considering some of the weeks I’ve had, that’s saying a lot.”

  They were now at the edge of the forest where Thorne was glowering at Radan. “What happened to you?”

  Radan rubbed at his nose again, inadvertently spreading some of the still-leaking blood around. “Ambushed, sir. By Guarders. Said they’re back and wanting revenge.”

  Thorne’s shoulder twitched. “Any sign of the Briters?”

  “Some?” Radan said, inventing wildly. “They were running back in the direction of their house,” which was somewhat true.

  “Good,” said Thorne. “The Shins are in there,” he cocked his head to the trees behind them. “I’m sure of it, although I have sixty men conducting a house-to-house search as we speak. Men, tonight we’re going to conquer that forest, retrieve the Shins, and become legends in our own time!”

  Offra’s fake cough sounded like, “Right.”

  Thorne sent him a warning glare before turning to Radan. “Because I have the most confidence in you, Radan—”

  Offra let his gaze wander up to the stars peeking through patches of clouds.

  “—you’ll take the pack horse carrying the incarceration chains with your group.” Thorne gestured to a horse that jangled noisily. “My group will flush the Shins over to you, and we’ll box them in. Chain up each Shin until Genev can retrieve them. Offra,” Thorne turned to him, and Offra was purposely slow about meeting his eyes. “Don’t think you’re getting out of any of this! You’re reluctance is being documented in your permanent file every day!”

  “Thank you,” Offra said. “I’ll need that kind of evidence.”

  “You’re so useless, Offra. Another note I’ll add to your file! Take your ten and enter the forest two hundred paces to the west. Your group will make sure the Shins don’t escape. We don’t want these Guarders snatching them away from us. Remarkable coincidence that they chose tonight to stage their return—”

  “Because of Zenos?” interrupted Offra, and every man of the thirty stared at him. “Tell them what you said earlier, Thorne,” Offra challenged. “You said, ‘Zenos really is one of them.’ Why didn’t you let any of us know there was a traitor among us?”

  Now thirty eyes swiveled in alarm back to their commander.

  Thorne sat taller. “You misheard, Offra. Had I known Zenos was a spy, you really think I wouldn’t have done something about it?”

  “I really don’t know what to think tonight, Thorne. Let’s just get this latest bad plan of yours over with.”

  ---

  Shem led them over a hill that felt alarmingly hot under their boots, and down a ridge into a gulley where caves on either side groaned and coughed out hot water. Mahrree felt splashes on her face as they weaved between them, and she used her shoulder to brush the water of her cheeks. In some areas the ground sounded inexplicably hollow, and often she smelled sulfur yet couldn’t discern its source.

  She was grateful she held the hands of two strong men. They diminished her terror and filled her with borrowed bravery.

  After many more frenetic minutes of winding through brush and trees, Mahrree heard soft snorting again. She stopped, but Shem continued to pull her along, with Perrin pushing from behind.

  “But Shem, I heard—”

  “—the horses we’ve hidden for you.”

  They emerged in a small clearing where five horses stood tethered to trees. Mahrree would have sighed in relief if she wasn’t panting so hard to catch her breath. Perrin did sigh, however, but Peto’s and Deck’s eyes were wide and terrified.

  Shem noticed their expressions. “I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear this is the end of your walking on this journey.”

  “If you want to call what we just did walking,” Peto said. “I’d call it dragging, running, yanking, pulling, stumbling—”

  Perrin elbowed him before putting an arm around Mahrre
e. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, but a little shaky,” she confessed. “I imagine it’s not as scary in the daytime, right Shem?”

  “Actually, it’s worse when you can see the bottomless caverns you run between. Many people freeze up and can’t take another step.”

  Mahrree was sure her heart stopped beating for a moment. “We ran between bottomless caverns?”

  The traumatized, and now slightly amused, looks on her son and son-in-law told her they had.

  “On that steaming hillside,” Shem said. “We’ve tossed rocks in them and never heard them land.” To Perrin he murmured theatrically, “I see now how she walked right past Jothan last night without seeing him. But Mahrree, the worst of the forest is now behind you.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” Perrin said. He gently pivoted Mahrree to face a horse.

  She stared at it for a moment, glanced at her husband, then back at the animal which grew taller each moment.

  “Breeches,” Perrin reminded her, taking a pinch of the cloth covering her hip. “Not just the latest Salemite fashion.”

  Before she knew what was happening, Perrin picked her up and hefted her on to the horse.

  “Oh, I don’t know about this . . .” She fumbled for the reins.

  “Now, Shem, where do we go from here?” Perrin asked.

  Shem tilted his head. “Don’t you want to see your mount first?”

  “What do you mean?” Perrin peered into the darkness at the other large forms.

  “Right over there.”

  Perrin squinted, then gasped. “Clark!?”

  Shem chuckled. “He’s your horse, Perrin. Not the fort’s. I was there when Gari Yordin gave him to you. Jon Offra had been taking care of him, but he’s been pining for you.”

  Clark was already pulling at his reins secured to a tree. Perrin jogged over and loosed him. “I thought I’d never see you again!” He pressed his forehead against Clark’s and rubbed his neck vigorously.

  As disturbed as she was to be sitting on a horse, Mahrree was even more dismayed at the affection between man and horse. No wonder Perrin often came home smelling like horse sweat.

  “Your disappearance may have been what set the fort looking for us,” Perrin said to Clark who snuffed happily, or so Mahrree assumed. She wrinkled her nose and worried about horse snot on her husband’s face. The face she frequently kissed, or used to.

  “Nope,” Shem told him. “I took him out this morning, telling the stable hands that I was sending him back to Yordin. Instead, I snuck him over to Dormin waiting at the tree line, who tethered him up here. We can always use new breeding stock in Salem. Clark will be one happy stud there.”

  Perrin chuckled as his large black horse nuzzled him. “Shem, thank you!”

  “Well, at least someone’s happy with his mode of travel,” Mahrree murmured.

  Shem climbed atop his horse and saluted Mahrree with a grin.

  She returned a grimace.

  “Straight north,” Shem said. “If I should lose you, you keep north.”

  Peto, eyeing the horse closest to him, whispered to Deck. “Straight north. How can we tell which way’s north?”

  “Just go uphill,” Shem told him. “Now get on your horse, Peto, before your father decides to help you.”

  Peto shrugged and took two tries to get himself up, after surreptitiously watching to see how Deck mounted.

  For some reason Perrin picked up a stick before mounting Clark.

  Mahrree eyed her horse. “Shem, this is a nice animal, right? Doesn’t move strangely?”

  “Mahrree, just hold on tight.”

  She was just about to ask for suggestions how when a distinct horse whinny in the distance caught their attention.

  “That’s not one of ours!” Shem whispered.

  In a low voice, Perrin ordered, “Deck, head straight up the slope. Mahrree and Peto, stay close behind. Shem and I will bring up the rear.”

  Deck nodded and kicked his horse. Peto shot a doubtful glance at his father before he reluctantly kicked his horse to follow Deck.

  Mahrree couldn’t look more pitifully at her husband, she was sure. But he just raised the stick and jabbed the horse’s rump. Mahrree’s horse took off in a fast gallop into the trees.

  West.

  “North!” Shem whispered frantically as her horse disappeared. “I said north!”

  “Ease up on the reigns!” Perrin whispered loudly, although he knew it was hopeless. Deck’s horse cut hard to the west to catch Mahrree’s, and Peto followed, vanishing into the night.

  “No, no, no!” Perrin whispered. He glared at Shem. “Yes, I said it three times!”

  Shem gripped his arm. “She’ll be all right. That horse always knows how to find a meal, and I left one up at the next clearing about a quarter of a mile up. Now, it might take him a while to get there, seeing as how they’re taking a circuitous route—”

  The sound of approaching horses shut them up.

  They shared a series of complex facial tics, then crept down the hillside onto a rock outcropping for a better look, leaving Clark and Shem’s horse above them.

  Eleven soldiers were slowing picking their way through the trees, their bodies twitching nervously in the unfamiliar terrain. In the lead was a tense soldier in a captain’s jacket.

  Perrin and Shem stared at each other in amazement.

  Lemuel Thorne was in the forest.

  Chapter 5--“How will we know

  when we’re safe?”