Soldier at the Door(11)

Shin chuckled.

“I also started thinking, sir,” the young volunteer began hesitantly, “you’re a father, and seem to be a devoted one at that—if you could have more than two children, would you? Considering that it seems apparent Guarder women still have so many—”

Perrin stiffened. “Do you know the name of Gadiman, Zenos?” the captain asked brusquely.

Zenos blinked rapidly at the captain’s abrupt change in tone. “Uh, sounds vaguely familiar.”

“Perhaps you’re more familiar with his title: Administrator of Loyalty?”

Zenos gulped. “Ah, yes sir. That Gadiman.”

“Would you like to meet the Administrator of Loyalty, Zenos?” Shin’s tone was cold as death.

Zenos gulped again. “No, sir?”

“That’s right—you don’t. But asking such kinds of questions will earn you a one-way journey to Idumea and an extended discussion with Gadiman. To answer your questions, Zenos: no, I’ve never considered the thought of having more than two children. That is the law of the land, and I’ve sworn to uphold it. Querul the First recognized that our population couldn’t exceed one million people, or we’d run into the same divisions and shortages we suffered under the Great War in 200—”

“I know all about that, sir,” Zenos tried diplomatically to cut him off.

“If you did, you wouldn’t need a history refresher right now!” Shin snapped. “After the war, Querul told families to maintain only a replacement population, that women should birth only two children. When his son Querul the Second took over, he enforced that law ruthlessly. While the First turned a blind eye to the occasional woman who had three or even four, his son made sure that any woman expecting a third time never birthed that baby. If she survived the soldiers and their brutality, she certainly could never conceive again!”

Zenos swallowed hard, but the captain wasn’t finished yet.

“Fifty years ago The Drink was developed to ensure no accidental violations of the law occurred, preventing women from having more children after the second. Not only has it kept our population in balance, it has preserved women from the difficulties of expecting. I’ve seen it twice, Zenos, first-hand. It’s an enormous sacrifice, and nothing a woman should have to endure too often!”

If the captain thought his lecture would scare the large young man into silence, he was mistaken.

“Sir, I know the sacrifices,” Zenos said gravely. “My older sister has two daughters. I saw her suffer. I also saw her joy when she held those newborns, and how much she adores her girls now. I know for a fact that she’s said the pain and suffering were nothing compared to becoming a mother. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful to the laws, I merely wondered if you had ever considered that maybe there could be another way.”

Perrin sat back, stunned by the boy’s boldness. “As I said before, Zenos—no, I’ve never considered violating the laws of the land. At least, not that one,” he confessed with a small smile.

Zenos hazarded a small smile too, but it seemed to have a sad undertone. “Understood, sir. I shouldn’t have . . . well, never mind. That’s about all I have for you today.” He made to get up out of the chair, but Perrin was struck by a thought and held up his hand to stop him.

“Zenos, one question: exactly how did the Guarder know the farmer was planting corn? He would have been across the upper canal there. For all he knew the farmer was dropping peas or pumpkin seeds.”

Zenos hesitated. “Too late in the season for peas, and pumpkins aren’t sown in rows.”

“But would the Guarder know that? If we plant corn in rows, might we not plant everything in rows?” Shin pressed. “I’m not exactly a gardener, as you might have guessed, but I do know that seeds are very small and difficult to identify from a distance.”

Zenos looked perplexed for a moment. “Maybe he went out at night and dug up the seeds, just to see what had been planted?”

Shin pondered that, along with the odd look his volunteer tried to conceal. He seemed to be worried that he hadn’t asked the Guarder how he knew what seeds were planted.

“Possibly,” Perrin decided. “You’re dismissed, Zenos. Remember—extra food for our babbling Guarder tomorrow. Let’s see if sweet bread doesn’t loosen his tongue even more.”

Zenos stood up, apparently relieved. “Thank you, sir! Hope I have something promising tomorrow.”

After he left the room, Perrin whistled under his breath. “Six or seven children?” he whispered.

He sat quietly for a minute, lost in thought.