Soldier at the Door(220)
She continued nodding.
“And never anger the commander of the fort.”
She sniffed a soft chuckle. “Sounds good,” she said, but oddly, it didn’t. She sat up out of his embrace and wiped her nose as a memory came back to her. It was about a year ago, on her front steps, and she sat there with one of her former students talking about the world.
“What is it now?” Perrin said patiently, realizing that she was still lost in thoughts she wouldn’t share.
“I was just thinking about Poe,” she whispered.
He sighed loudly. “I’m completely lost now.”
“We were talking, before I started doing After School Care, about Terryp. I told him about that mysterious fire after the Great War, and how all of Terryp’s writings were lost.”
“So . . .” he said expectantly.
“He said something extraordinary. It was something along the lines of, people don’t like to change what they know, even if they suspect it may be wrong. Even if the truth would be amazing.”
“Poe’s a very smart boy. He has great potential, as long as he doesn’t listen to his mother too much.”
“He was right,” Mahrree whispered. “People would rather live in lies.”
“Oh, I’m not so sure about that,” Perrin said, turning back to pull twigs out of Barker’s fur again. “I think people live only what they know. If they know it’s a lie, they look for the truth.”
“Like we’ve looked for the truth about Shem Zenos?” she reminded him glumly. As much as she wanted to, something inside wouldn’t let her suspicions go.
Perrin growled quietly. “There’s no reason to investigate him further. There’s nothing to be found.”
“So we like the truth we believe about him?”
“Yes,” he conceded reluctantly. “But if something else comes up to cast doubt on him, I’ll be the first to look into it. I thought we were done talking about Zenos.”
“We are,” she assured him. “But think about it in general—what if people find a new truth, and . . . it frightens them? What should they do?”
He paused. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about that.”
“Neither had I. Until tonight,” she whispered. “You know something else I said to Poe? I told him how they had to drag Terryp away from the ruins, and that the entire experience nearly killed him.”
“That’s true,” he said leadingly, waiting for what else was to come.
“I told him that Terryp almost died from trying to understand a new truth, something that he thought could benefit everyone, and that people have given up their lives for far less important things than that.”
“That’s also accurate,” Perrin agreed, his tone trying to encourage her to get to the point before morning.
“But I didn’t tell him people also shrink away from the truth,” she said miserably, “unwilling to make the sacrifices needed to find it. Terryp was one of the few brave ones who did. The rest of us? Just cowards. I don’t mean you, I mean me.”
Perrin was silent for a moment.
“Either it’s because it’s very late, or because I’m very tired—and please know that I truly love you—but Mahrree, I really don’t understand you tonight.”
She leaned against his chest. “I hope you never do.”
He wrapped his arms around her. “Can I have that in writing?”
---
A soldier came out of the fresh spring area. His jacket, which had been inside out a moment ago revealing a dull dark lining, was now on the correct way. The sword, which he left leaning against a tree in its sheath since running with it wasn’t practical, was replaced around his waist. He fastened the last silver button just as he stepped out from the cover of the trees.
Three soldiers on horseback approached, stopped, and smirked at him.
“Feeling better yet, Zenos?” asked a private. “Or do we need to do one more circuit and come back for you? I really hope you didn’t ruin the spring.”
The two other soldiers sniggered.
“No, no, I’m ready,” Shem said wearily. “And I stayed clear of the spring, I promise. Look, I appreciate you not saying anything to anyone. Kind of embarrassing, you know.”
Another corporal chuckled. “Look at him, men. Breathing heavy, sweating, pale . . . I’ve seen it all before. I told you, Zenos: one should never eat anything presented on a stick. If the sausage is gray and wobbly, you should be asking why, not how much it costs. I don’t care how pretty the girl was selling it.”
Zenos took the reins of his horse that had remained tethered to a tree for the past hour and a half.