Jaytsy pulled out some wooden blocks from the bottom shelf.
“Good idea, Jayts. Trip up any intruders on your scattered toys. We could—”
The sudden knock on her front door filled her with immediate fear. No one would be coming by this late at night, unless . . .
She hesitated until she heard the knock again.
“Mahrree? It’s cold out here!”
“Hogal!” She rushed to the front door, unlatched the bolts and opened it as quickly as she could. “What are you doing here? Is Tabbit well?”
Hogal stepped quickly inside and shut the door behind him. “Tabbit’s just fine, my dear,” he said as he undid the long scarf wrapped around his face and unfastened his thick coat. “We’re actually worried about you, with these all-night training sessions. Tonight I had a feeling that maybe you might appreciate a little company. I’d be happy to sleep on the sofa there, keep the fire going, and get Jaytsy for you when she wakes in the night,” he offered, a little bashfully.
“Oh, Hogal,” Mahrree felt herself growing weepy. “I’d hate for you to sleep on the sofa, or to spend the night away from Tabbit.” But that wasn’t what she meant.
And Hogal could tell. “It was Tabbit’s idea, and I was more than happy to agree with her. If you send me home, she’ll be angry with me.”
Mahrree swallowed and nodded, sniffing her gratitude.
“Any recent pains?”
“Some this morning,” Mahrree admitted, “but after I rested this afternoon they stopped again.”
“Well, let’s make sure it stays that way. Now,” Hogal said, clapping his hands, “I see some bars that need replacing. I think I’m up to that! Why don’t you get little Jaytsy ready for bed and let me finish up down here?”
“Thank you, Hogal.” She kissed him on the cheek.
About fifteen minutes later Mahrree left her bedroom after lulling Jaytsy to sleep. Mahrree really didn’t want Jaytsy disturbing her great-great-uncle tonight, so she would stay in her parents’ bed. From the storage trunk on the landing, Mahrree pulled out a thick blanket and two pillows, and started to make her way downstairs. She paused when she saw that Hogal, who had finished securing the iron rods in the windows and doors, was now standing near the eating room table.
Not realizing he was being watched, he slowly slid open the secret drawer and retrieved the long knife. He peered suspiciously at the blade as if it might suddenly come to life. Hogal touched it gingerly, winced and then did something extraordinary—he slipped the long knife into his waistband, making sure the handle was concealed under his knitted tunic.
Mahrree blinked in surprise. What in the world did an eighty-two-year-old rector think he could accomplish with a long knife?! She stepped noiselessly back up the stairs to her bedroom and sat down on the massive bed to think.
Why was Hogal here, and so worried about securing the house? Why—
Mahrree realized she was the dumbest woman in the world. How could she have been so self-absorbed to not see it? Last year Perrin spent Raining Season teaching his soldiers hand-to-hand combat in the indoor training arena. He said he wouldn’t force the men into the bitter cold unless there was a legitimate—
“Oh, dear Creator!” Mahrree whispered and held her belly. “There really is something happening, isn’t there? Why wouldn’t he tell me?!”
A tightening of muscles in her lower back that spread around to her front told her why. She took a deep breath to calm herself, although that never worked.
“He didn’t want me to worry. So, naturally, I’m worrying even more. And the only reason Hogal is here is because . . .”
She closed her eyes to try to stop the tears, the stupid tears that so easily trickled out whenever she was expecting a baby.
“Because tonight, the world is out to get my husband.”
Chapter 23 ~ “And if it is Your will, let me walk out of here again.”
Perrin was beginning to know the forest rather well. And it wasn’t nearly as fearsome as he remembered it a year and a half ago. He thought of himself as a manifestation of snow as he moved quietly, looking for anything that would signal twelve Guarders had finally arrived. He’d plotted his course for this night, moving in erratic patterns that wouldn’t suggest any kind of deliberate behavior to whoever might see him. He also stooped to avoid being recognized for his size, but he saw no one, again.
He knew he was effective, though. Several times during the past two nights he’d come within a stone’s throw of his own soldiers, crouching at the edge of the forest like a snow-covered rock while his soldiers rode and walked right past him.