Soldier at the Door(35)
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The patrols the next night went out in staggered formation, as instructed by the captain, in a new, irregular pattern. Along the forest’s edge the soldiers rode two, four, three at a time.
Past the fresh spring rode one group of three, allowing their horses to pause to get a drink in the run-off that trickled down from the forest. After a moment the soldiers clucked their horses to continue.
Unnoticed to anyone, a small rock slipped off the saddle of the last soldier, falling into the thick grasses.
Two minutes later a figure dressed in green and brown mottled clothing dropped out of the trees. The man picked up the rock, then slipped back into the forest.
Through the trees he meandered, skirting a steam vent, taking a wide path around a gaping cavern, and creeping over a ridge that sounded hollow under his boots before he finally slid into a secluded ravine.
There he nodded to several other men and one of them lit a candle. They unwrapped the paper tied around the rock and smoothed it.
Been to house. Have met all. Know all names.
Been made personal messenger to Shin family.
The group of men smiled.
“Excellent work, Private Zenos!” one of them whispered.
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Two men sat in a dark room of an unlit building.
“I received the message today,” Dr. Brisack announced. “Our man is in position, officially.”
Mal nodded. “Good, good. I hope the extensive training will be worth it. It’s a little later than I was expecting but I suppose it will have to suffice.”
“There are others willing and ready to go to other forts,” Brisack suggested. “We could place them as well.”
“Not really necessary yet,” Mal said easily. “Not until I see the kind of results we get out of Edge.”
“And what kind of results are you hoping for?”
“I’m not really sure,” Mal smiled thinly.
Brisack was suspicious. “That’s rather unusual for you, to not have a well-thought out plan of action.”
“Oh, maybe we’ll be surprised to see what happens with our captain and his new private,” Mal’s tone was thick with planning.
Brisack blinked. “What have you done?!”
“What makes you think I’ve done anything?”
“You’re not that good at concealing your intentions, Nicko! What have you done?”
Mal chuckled. “Just gave our private permission to do whatever is necessary to get close to the family. Flatter Mrs. Shin. Pretend to like babies. Compliment the captain. Become their favorite soldier.”
“And then?”
“Well, then, we’ll have to see, won’t we?” Mal’s tone turned icy. “He’s there to gather information, find out about the captain, and discover what provokes and terrifies him. Until I know more about this horse, I won’t know how to break it.”
“So,” Brisack began to breathe a little easier, “nothing for now. Just . . . information gathering?”
“And then I’ll form my speculations in an unbiased, objective manner. Satisfied?” Mal sneered.
“Yes, actually I am,” Brisack said.
Chapter 5 ~ “They made us watch how a worm moves.”
It was so late in Harvest Season that the Harvest Celebration was last week, but mercifully the Rainy Season storms had yet to arrive. That meant Mahrree could still take her babies outside in the cool but sunny afternoon.
Jaytsy, wearing a new sweater knitted in such a wild pattern that only her Grandmother Peto could have designed and named it pays-lee, picked dried weeds and tossed them over the low fence. Mahrree sat on her front porch holding Peto who had just dozed off. Maybe it was thanks to the blanket he was wrapped in that looked suspiciously as if it was made from the same dark blue wool used exclusively for dress uniforms, compliments of Grandmother Shin.
The sky was such an intense blue that it had shades of purple in it. The trees along the road, with the last of their yellow and orange leaves still clinging to the branches, stood out against the sky as a vivid complement. Mahrree pointed out the blueness of the sky to her daughter, but her nineteen- moons-old girl was far more interested in the dirt. Her almost six-moons-old son also didn’t notice the sky, but instead smiled in his sleep.
That was good enough for Mahrree—she thought nothing could be more ideal than that moment.
It took a long time to get there, though.
Peto was wearing his third dirt-colored dressing gown of the day because he didn’t like mashed anything Mahrree tried to feed him. While Peto continuously spat out his food his mother tried so hard to keep in him, Jaytsy was in the kitchen experimenting to see what was in each of the eggs they had gathered from the neighbors’ chickens the day before. It wasn’t until Jaytsy was on the eleventh egg that Mahrree realized that her daughter had been quiet for some time.