“I’m so sorry, Small Ones. I wasn’t expecting to see you today, so I’m not prepared. Actually, I’ve been on since late last night.” He looked at Mahrree remorsefully.
“It’s all right, Gizzada.” Mahrree smiled, but her children hooting at the staff sergeant told them it wasn’t acceptable to be without treats for them. “I didn’t bring them up to steal your sweets again. Or your afternoon snacks.”
Gizzada bravely fished out the bulge from his jacket—a shriveled piece of aged jerky—and wrinkled his nose at it.
“A bit tough for the Small Ones,” he said, trying to bend it. “Barker would appreciate it, though. Where is he?”
Mahrree rolled her eyes. “Probably visiting another small dog to once again further his parentage. Ever since he discovered how to climb over the fence, we can’t contain him.”
Gizzada smiled. “He followed me to the markets a couple of weeks ago. I think I made him a permanent friend by giving him a sweet roll. Sorry about that.”
“Next time, let him follow you to the fort and keep him here!” She looked up towards the forest. “I was just wondering what’s going on up here,” she said, trying to keep a careful balance between sounding casual, and not sounding as if she were trying to sound casual. “Perrin left without his breakfast.”
Gizzada shook his head sadly. “That is a tragedy,” he said in all seriousness. “I’ll see to it that sandwiches are brought up to him.”
Mahrree squinted at the trees. “Exactly where is he, Gizzada?”
“Not in the trees, Mrs. Shin,” he promised. “Look down towards the west and you’ll see him on the brown mare. Already tired out the bay gelding. Been riding up and down all morning.”
“Why?” Mahrree asked, hoping she sounded relaxed enough that he would tell her.
“Not sure, ma’am.” He shrugged and patted himself down again when he saw the pouty faces of Jaytsy and Peto looking up at him, still hopeful. “Just a great deal of movement deep into the trees. Not wolves, not bears, just . . . odd. We can’t even see up to it, but we’re hearing lots of crashing about.”
“Maybe some lost livestock?” Mahrree suggested.
Gizzada shook his head. “We thought that at first, too, since the cattle fence isn’t completed yet. But cattle, pigs, sheep, or goats would all be crying and calling. We don’t hear anything like that.”
“So,” Mahrree said as nonchalantly as possible. “Guarders then?” She watched the large staff sergeant from the corner of her eye as she pretended to observe the forest.
Any sign . . . any sign at all . . .
He shrugged helplessly. “But Mrs. Shin,” he lowered his voice and looked around to see no one near, “it’s driving your husband nearly to distraction. He’s just staring into the forest, longingly, as if he sees a . . .” he searched for an appropriate comparison, “a luscious, giant pie just out of reach, and he’s a starving man on his last legs. And the pie is bursting with berries, still steaming from the oven, juices dribbling down the crust—”
Even Mahrree found herself so distracted from her questioning that she began licking her lips. If only Gizzada were a few years older, she thought to herself, as she had dozens of times, or Mother were a few years younger, they could be very happy together.
“—and he can’t reach it. It taunts him, beckons him, he smells it, hears it—”
Mahrree stopped licking her lips and wondered exactly how one hears a pie. But by the faraway look in Gizzada’s mournful black eyes, it was obvious all kinds of foods spoke to him.
“Staff Sergeant?”
“And he’s forbidden to touch it,” Gizzada’s arm began to rise, his chubby brown hand making a grasping motion. “He can do nothing but dream and long for it, his heart ready to break—”
“Gizzada, have you had midday meal yet?”
“No.” He sighed sadly, the longing in his eyes intensifying to true anguish. Mahrree was sure she heard his great belly rumble.
She put a comforting hand on his arm. “As the wife of your major, I have special privileges, or so I claim. And, as the woman with the ear of your commander, I order you to the mess hall to make my husband two sandwiches, and take along three for yourself.”
Gizzada’s mouth turned into the heartfelt smile of a man who had just been rescued from an execution squad.
“Truly, Mrs. Shin, you are an incredible woman,” he said with great feeling. “Major Shin is lucky to have found such a thoughtful, deep, and compassionate woman as you.”