The Falcon in the Barn (Book 4 Forest at the Edge series) (72 page)

“
Well, if they don’t reach
the correct conclusion, maybe we’ll just have to do something about
that.” He patted his horse’s neck and realized how calmly Clark
stood for such a large and vibrant stallion.

“
Interesting . .
.”

He glanced to his right, to the densely
wooded forest that last year held a host of Guarders, now all dead.
It was peaceful and inviting, as the trees always were to him. That
didn’t bother him, just intrigued him.

“
You’re not in the least
bit skittish to be here, are you?” he asked Clark. Several horses
he had gone through over the years would develop the sudden need to
trample something when he neared the darkened trees, but not Clark.
He merely glanced over to the pines and twitched his ears as if to
ask,
Want to head in there? I’m game.

“
Don’t tempt me, Clark.
Come along. We need to finish our survey of Moorland.”

He gently nudged the horse, and Clark
immediately set off for the ruins as if knowing the way. Perrin
sent someone to check on Moorland at irregular intervals each week,
just to make sure no one else was trying to set up an explosives
shop, as if anything remained that could be usable.

But every once in a while Perrin set out
alone just to see it again and to prove to himself that it was
still conquered. That knowledge helped him sleep better at
night.

Of course Shem didn’t like that idea that
Perrin went by himself. The last time he snuck away from the fort,
Shem caught up to him and accompanied him on his rounds of the
charred buildings, the large crater, and the blackened fields now
beginning to sprout new growth. Nature recovers quickly. Perrin
envied it sometimes.

But today he made sure Shem was busy before
he set out, and didn’t tell anyone where he was going. Deep down
his training told him that going alone was dangerous, but in each
man there’s still a rebellious teenager that jumps up and begs to
be indulged once in a while. This was it.

He didn’t get too close to Moorland itself.
With the rock foundations and first floors of all the structures
now tumbled down, it was easy to see through the remains of the
small village, still dead and abandoned.

He tipped the reins to the side to nudge
Clark in another direction, but instead the horse hesitated, then
did a quick sideways step.

Perrin looked down to see that Clark had
deliberated avoided stepping on a large, gnawed-on bone. Perrin
gulped. Likely human, likely dug up by some wolves, likely left
here for a snack later.

Clark merely continued steadily on his way,
and Perrin once again patted the horse’s neck. The creature was
smarter than the majority of his new recruits.

Satisfied that Moorland was still just a
memory, he clucked Clark to return to the shade of the trees. The
black horse blended in perfectly with the woods. Perrin always
enjoyed riding in the shadows at the edge where he could hear the
forest calling him.

They hadn’t traveled more than a hundred
paces or so when Clark sidestepped again, this time slightly
agitated. His ears twitched and he snorted in concern.

“
Whoa,” Perrin said
unnecessarily, for Clark had already stopped as if hoping his rider
would notice what he did. “What is it, Clark?” he whispered. “What
do you smell?”

Perrin peered into the woods but all he could
see were thick young pines, dense scrubby brush, dead logs, fallen
branches, and absolute quiet. Still, he wasn’t about to doubt
Clark, whose nostrils were flaring as if he smelled something
absolutely foul. Perrin found himself subtly sniffing the air but
didn’t catch a whiff of sulfur or anything else alarming.

Yet . . . there
was
something.
Something he could feel, as if another set of eyes were watching
him closely. Without moving his head he shifted his gaze upward
into the tops of the trees. Seeing nothing unusual, his eyes
traveled down again to look in the direction Clark was staring and
now stomping in annoyance.

“
I know,” Perrin whispered
soothingly. “I feel it too. I just can’t see it. But it’s there.”
The thought filled him with dread.

Someone was still alive. Maybe many
“someones.”

It had been too much to expect that all of
the Guarders would vanish and no one would ever return. When he’d
told Mahrree of his hope last year, he’d been riding high on sheer
enthusiasm of his success. But after only a few days he had the
nagging feeling that it was all too good to be true. There had to
be a few remaining, and therefore a purpose for forts, according to
the garrison.

Perrin knew that coming alone to inspect
Moorland wasn’t the safest or smartest thing to do. But he wasn’t
helpless. Far from it.

“
Did you hear me?” he
announced loudly to the forest. “I know you’re there! You may think
you’re unnoticeable, but obviously we noticed. And you see me here
patrolling Moorland and you know why, don’t you? I don’t take
anything for granted!”

He continued to stare, as did Clark, at
whatever it was making its presence in the trees. Or bushes. Or
fallen logs. Perhaps there were still Guarders, but they were
gutless. He was the easiest target in the world right then, and he
must have been the Guarders’ most wanted man. If ever there was a
time to take revenge it was right now, and he waited with his hand
twitching on the hilt of Relf Shin’s sword.

But for some inexplicable reason they didn’t
take the opportunity. Maybe it was just one sole survivor, or two,
that were maybe lost but certainly not about to take action. That
was what Perrin was hoping: that they’d never dare to take action
again.

After another full minute he squinted into
the stillness. “I’ll never stop keeping the world secure from you,”
he promised.

He prodded Clark who, after snorting his
disdain to the trees, promptly turned and trotted away from the
forest.

---

Only after the sound of horses hooves died
away did a clump of shrubbery collapse into an unconscious
heap.

Two more heavy clusters of leaves dropped
from nearby trees and rushed over to the fallen foliage.

“
He’s already coming
around,” said one bunch of leaves to the other. He pulled off his
concealing hat for a clearer look at their companion.

The second man had already pulled away part
of the collection of branches that created the shrub disguise.

The shrub opened his eyes slowly at first,
then they flashed in panic.

“
Shh,” one of the men
patted him. “He’s gone. Stay down until you can focus properly. You
passed out.”

“
That’s what happens when
you lock your legs and don’t breathe for five minutes,” said the
other man.

The shrub-man exhaled and rubbed his eyes
with a green gloved hand. “That was the most terrifying moment I’ve
ever had!”

The first leaf man chuckled. “I have to
admit, as initiations go that was probably the most intense any new
recruit has experienced.”

The second man nodded. “Most of us were
initiated by what we refer to as the ‘trial by fire’ last year,
when Moorland burned and the flames traveled to the forest. But to
be stared down like that? All I can say is, Welcome to the
corps!”

Shrub-man nodded once. “So was that
him
?”

“
That was him, all right,”
the first man said, helping the shrub-man sit up slowly. “No one
else does ‘glaring’ quite like a Shin.”

“
What was he doing this far
east?”

“
Inspections, like a
thorough commander should conduct.”

Shrub-man exhaled again.

“
So what did he say there
at the last?” the second man asked. “I couldn’t quite hear all of
the speech.”

Shrub-man rubbed his head which still pounded
from its impact with the ground. “He said something like, ‘I’ll
never stop keeping the world safe from you.’”

The first man looked at the second and
nodded. “Sounds like something he’d say. Except that he got it all
mixed up.”

---

The lanky sixteen-year-old with wavy brown
hair leaned against the fence railing and watched the gray
stallion. Up close it was even more impressive—the perfect blend,
bred for strength and speed. He longed to hop the fence and run a
hand down the withers. If this were any other property he would
have already been at the horse’s side. But even he knew the
importance of not violating the fort’s boundaries without
permission or an escort.

At least, not in daylight.

He felt a presence right behind him.

“
If you think he looks good
now, you should see him at a full run.”

“
Sir!” the young man
jumped, startled. “I’m sorry, I know I’m a little
early—”

“
It’s all right. ‘On time’
is already ten minutes late,” the officer said, putting a hand on
the young man’s shoulder. “Lannard, it was, right?”

“
Yes, sir,
Captain.”

Captain Thorne smiled thinly. “Well, Lannard,
are you ready for your first assignment?”

Lannard delivered a nervous smile and a
sloppy salute.

Thorne winced as he turned to lean against
the fence. “We’ll work on that. Another year yet before you can be
a soldier. You just may need that much time to improve that salute.
So, in the meantime, there he is: Streak. He just doesn’t get as
much exercise as he deserves. I have to spend so much time in the
office now.”

“
I understand sir. It’s my
good fortune. I’m well aware of that,” Lannard said, looking
longingly at the stallion.

“
Well, I don’t know if it
makes up for not going on the expedition, but yes, it was fortunate
we met. I could tell you’re a potential horse man.”

“
Oh, yes sir! My father
keeps cattle, but I don’t see the appeal.”

Thorne sighed in appreciation. “Indeed. Why
would you be drawn to
cattle
. . .” He bristled at the
recent memory of Briter out in his fields grouping the clumsy
animals for some odd experiment involving cheering and
applause.

“
. . . when I could be
caring instead for a stallion?” Lannard said, nodding at the horse.
“My thoughts exactly, sir.”

Even a sixteen-year-old can see the logic in
that, Lemuel thought. But it just proved another one of his
father’s theories: men are far more logical than girls.

“
So Lannard, your schedule
in school: when do you usually leave?”

“
You mean, what time am I
supposed
to leave, or what time do I
actually
leave?”
Lannard asked with a twinkle in his eye.

Thorne shook his head. “I can’t have you
breaking any rules, or I can’t have you working for me. Education
is important.”

“
Yes, sir.” Lannard’s eyes
shifted oddly, as if he tried to keep them from rolling but they
wanted to anyway. “I’m usually allowed to leave school by three,
unless Mrs. Shin needs to have another one of her talks with
me.”

Thorne’s body stiffened in an effort to
control his breathing.

Lannard wasn’t the only one experiencing good
fortune today.

“
Mrs. Shin is your
teacher?” He tried to keep his voice natural although the words
wanted to come out in an ecstatic shout.

“
Yes sir,” he said dully.
“I had her last year, this year, and I’m doomed to have her next
year, unless I ‘improve my behavior’,” he said, impersonating the
director of Edge schools quite accurately.

The effect was lost on Thorne, who had never
met Mr. Hegek. “I take it you don’t enjoy Mrs. Shin?”

Lannard shrugged. “She’s all right, I
suppose. Sir, I
really
don’t need any of this getting back
to the colonel,” he said with a meaningful sidelong glance. “My
older brother used to be one of his ‘special cases.’ I don’t need
that kind of attention.”

“
Don’t worry. I don’t think
you need
his
attention,” Thorne assured him. “I’m curious,
what kinds of things does she teach? What subjects?”

“
She gets to teach them
all. But she really loves history and current events. She’s been
going on about that expedition for weeks, ever since they announced
it.”

Thorne squinted. “I didn’t realize that was
going to be on the test this year.”

“
Oh, it’s not. But she
doesn’t believe in just teaching what’s on the test. She says we
need to learn everything we can. Do you realize how much
‘everything’ is? It’s like . . .
every
thing! She’s insane.”
Lannard felt it safe to roll his eyes now.

Thorne nodded thoughtfully. “Like what?
What’s something she’s insisting on teaching?”

“
You really don’t want to
know, Captain.”

“
Oh, I think I do, Lannard.
Come on. Let’s go get Streak saddled up and you can tell me some of
the tortures of being an upper school student. It’s been a couple
of years since I’ve been there, but I’m sure I could top whatever
you have to say.”

“
Captain, I hear a
challenge! All right, then,” Lannard rubbed his hands together as
they walked to Thorne’s personal tackle shed. “Tomorrow’s
assignment is about the kings, and what life was like under their
rule. I’m supposed to ask my parents about what they remember, then
we’re going to compare it to what life is like now. And it’s not
even going to be on the test.”

A smile grew on Captain Thorne’s face. This
boy certainly didn’t need Colonel Shin’s personalized
attention.