Shem swallowed hard before saying, “Maybe the Creator knew their dreams, that they weren’t as noble as yours, Major. Maybe it’s better their lives were cut short.”
Perrin turned to him. “What are you getting at?”
“Sir, a couple of soldiers last night suggested that . . . they may have been Guarders.”
Major Shin shook his head quickly. “No. Not at all. Not Guarders. We have records and histories of all officers—”
“That could’ve been forged?”
“No!” Perrin blurted. “That would mean Guarders are working within the army! That can’t be.”
Shem had to let him know. At least get him thinking about it.
“Sir, I know you don’t want it to be, but what we want rarely coincides with what we’re given. And it’s the given we have to deal with. Only consider for a moment: because of all your new measures, their only way into the villages and forts now would be going in as one of us, in disguise. If it were Guarders, maybe this was meant as a message to you, to prove they can still reach you and your family. Your parents seem to have been the target, sir.”
Perrin covered his face again. “I must confess, when we lost Wiles—he was before your time—but when we lost Wiles, just vanished out of a carriage, I had the thought of, ‘What if Guarders were among us, in blue uniforms?’”
Shem cleared his throat gently.
Perrin took his hands off his face to look at his favorite soldier.
Shem shrugged his shoulders in a manner that said, Would it really be so difficult to imagine?
“Oh, Shem,” Perrin sighed wearily, “then none of us have a prayer.”
Shem shook his head. “We always have a prayer, sir. Maybe it was the last two Guarders in the army that killed each other last night, instead of killing your father and mother. Wouldn’t they send their best after the highest officer? Now they’re gone.”
Major Shin seemed to have frozen in place. When he looked at Shem it was with an expression of misery mixed with hope. “Let’s pray that’s true, Shem.”
“Already have been, sir.”
A movement at the door drew Shem’s attention.
“Perrin,” the High General said quietly as his large frame filled the doorway. “Go sit with your mother until Mahrree arrives. She’s not doing very well right now.”
Perrin stood up immediately.
“Yes, sir,” he said to his father. He winked good-bye at Shem and went out the door.
General Shin closed the door behind him, but remained in the surgery treatment area alone with the corporal.
Shem tried to sit in some semblance of attention, realizing that the High General’s presence wasn’t a promising development.
“Sir?”
Slowly, with his boots thudding loudly on the wood floor, General Shin walked over to him.
“Feeling better, Corporal?” The words were friendly, but the impatient tone made it clear this was merely obligatory small talk.
“Yes, sir.” But Shem’s stomach started churning all over again. The High General usually wore a grave expression, but astonishingly his face was even harsher this morning.
General Shin stopped at the foot of his cot and clasped his hands behind his back. “You’re an interesting young man, Shem Zenos,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve yet to figure you out. I’m considering transferring you to the garrison just so I can get you know you better.” He walked down one side of Shem’s cot, keeping his eyes on him.
Shem had to crane his neck awkwardly to meet his hard gaze. He knew enough to realize the angle was intended to cause him pain, which would distract him from his concentration, which would then let the formidable officer see right through him. Shem ignored his discomfort.
“Although I think my favorite major and his wife would be greatly displeased if I did,” General Shin added.
Shem tried to keep his breathing steady as the general turned and slowly paced away. He stopped abruptly at the end of the cot, his dark eyes cold and his face as relenting as stone as he faced Shem again. Major Shin’s glare was nothing compared to his father’s, who had twenty more years to perfect it.
“You seem so innocent, so boyish, so gentle,” General Shin said coolly. “But I’ve known many innocent-looking men who were foxes dressed up in feathers making themselves a nest in the henhouse. I have no evidence of you either way, Shem Zenos.”
Shem couldn’t help but squirm. The way the general said his name made it sound filthy.
“And so I look at you and wonder—are you really as good as my daughter-in-law claims? Or are you like my two lieutenants—biding their time and waiting for the opportune moment? The problem is, Shem Zenos, I have no way of knowing until it may be too late.”