The Mansions of Idumea (Book 3 Forest at the Edge series)

by Trish Mercer

  He had a duty to do.

  ---

  Mahrree could hardly concentrate as she took notes and supervised the soldiers bringing the carpets back into the Great Hall. She couldn’t pull her eyes away from the windows where she watched the massive snowflakes lazily falling until she heard, “Mrs. Shin?”

  The timid whisper turned her around from her useless vigil. “Kindiri?”

  The young woman squirmed before she said, “It’s just that . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overhear your conversation with Mrs. Shin . . . Well, that’s not entirely true. I was kind of listening . . . makes the job more interesting, you know?”

  At least she blushed at that, Mahrree thought.

  “It’s just that . . . he really does look at you that way,” Kindiri said, her brown eyes taking on a dreamy quality. “The way I wished Tace would look at me.”

  “Uh,” Mahrree knew she’d regret getting into this conversation, but— “who’s Tace?”

  Kindiri blinked back into reality. “Lieutenant Riplak!” she giggled as if that was the silliest question she’d ever heard.

  “Oh, of course,” Mahrree tried to drift away, but found herself entangled in Kindiri’s chatter.

  “It’s just that . . . I don’t know how to get him to look at me like that.”

  Mahrree sighed. If she could get the it’s-just-that girl to her point more quickly, she’d get out of this faster. “And ‘look like that’ means . . .?”

  “Oh, he looks at me hungrily,” she sniggered, and Mahrree regretted that she ever let Jaytsy go anywhere with her alone, “but I want him to . . . to . . . love me. Like the colonel loves you.” Genuine pain filled her eyes.

  Mahrree pressed her lips together in empathy. “Kindiri, you can’t force love. He has to decide all by himself to love you.”

  Kindiri looked down at the pressed tablecloths she was carrying. “So how do I make him decide?”

  “You can’t.”

  “It’s just that . . .” Kindiri looked up again, hopeful. “Last night he said that he was making plans. Big plans. He wants to do something more than just be the general’s watchdog, no offense meant—”

  “Oh, none taken. The boy must be bored out of his mind by now, plodding around the mansion after a weary old man.”

  Kindiri nodded. “And I asked him, ‘Do I get to be part of those plans?’ And you know how he responded?”

  “I honestly don’t know, Kindiri.”

  “Well, he just rolled over and ignored me!”

  Mahrree blinked.

  Then blinked again.

  She had a horrible feeling this conversation didn’t happen at The Dinner. Or the dance.

  “Uh, Kindiri? Exactly where did your discussion take place?”

  She blushed again. “My room.”

  “Uh-huh. And how often has he been to your room?”

  Kindiri now looked more proud than ashamed. “Come on, Mrs. Shin—you’re married to a handsome officer. You know how these things go.”

  Up until that moment Mahrree had thought of Kindiri as just another nice albeit dim-witted young woman, someone who could have been her student years ago. Until she said how these things go. There was something grubby about her tone, and now about her.

  Mahrree wanted to scrub her ears out. “Actually, I don’t know how these things go.”

  Kindiri rolled her eyes, and there was something ugly about that, too. “Surely that young officer who fell under your influence made his way to your bedroom a few times?”

  “He did,” Mahrree said simply.

  Kindiri waggled her eyebrows.

  “—with his second in command right behind him, to make us a new bed, which we did not share until after our wedding.”

  Another eye-roll. “Mrs. Shin, the army, the city, it’s all changing. Everything’s progressing—”

  Now Mahrree felt like rolling her eyes. Mal’s progress speech had been manipulated for a couple of decades now, usually to explain why something sweet and good was about to be thrown out for something controlling or depraved. Slap a happy label on it, such as progress, and everyone buys into the nonsense.

  “That’s all different now—”

  “Hmm,” Mahrree mulled it over. “As far as I know, that’s still done the same way it’s always been done. But perhaps I should ask the Administrator of Science if something new has popped up.”

  She’d meant to lighten the mood that was growing dark, but Kindiri just looked at her blankly. “Nooo,” she said slowly. “I’m pretty sure that when a man—”

  “Anyway,” said Mahrree loudly, trying to throw Kindiri off of whatever thought was sticking in her doughy head. “I think I know what you meant. But Kindiri, men have always been that way. You’re not the first girl to ever sneak a man to her bedroom. Or to sneak into his.” Perrin had affirmed her suspicion of that kind of behavior in last night’s late discussion. She learned a wide variety of definitions for what it means to be a young officer in Idumea.

  She also appreciated that he fled Idumea for a posting in Vines the day after he graduated.

  Kindiri turned red under Mahrree’s studied glare.

  “It’s not progressive, Kindiri, and it’s certainly not new. What the two of you have isn’t special. It’s just what dogs do in the alley.”

  Kindiri swallowed. “It’s not like that, Mrs. Shin.”

  “It is if he won’t marry you.”

  Her chin began to tremble, and Mahrree felt badly for putting it so bluntly. But Kindiri wasn’t going to hear or believe anything less than the ugly truth.

  “Kindiri, no man treats a woman he truly loves as a common sow.”

  Yes, Mahrree knew what that phrase meant. It certainly wasn’t uttered in polite conversations in Edge, where there were no “common sows” that she knew of. But Idumea—through its more explicit performances that it sent to Edge’s amphitheater—had introduced that idea to the innocence of Edge, and to the tittering of her teenage boys who frequently ruminated about the impossibilities they saw, hoping against irrational hope they’d run into such a senseless and willing female.

  And Mahrree, who always eavesdropped hoping for juicy details about thefts, instead heard titillating details about things she never wanted to know. But maybe all of those repugnant discussions were helpful at times like this. After all, she’d already concluded that when one was in Idumea, one should shock like Idumeans.

  Mahrree ignored the young cook’s stunned expression at her new label and continued, “Surely you must know the Shins don’t approve of any of that.”

  Kindiri recovered from her shock and firmed her stance. “Well, it’s none of their business!” she proclaimed, as if someone had once told her that excuse and she just now remembered it.

  “Oh, yes it is. This is their house. They give you a generous wage and put you up in a bedroom that’s even larger than what I have in Edge. They deserve some respect back, Kindiri. And they deserve to know what’s going on upstairs when they think a certain lieutenant is elsewhere.”

  “He’s never up there until he’s secured the house, Mrs. Shin,” Kindiri insisted.

  Mahrree’s eyes widened. “He’s up there when he’s on duty?”

  Kindiri looked around. “Shh! Please! He’d get so angry if he knew I told anyone.”

  But Mahrree didn’t care. “Oh, if he thinks he can get paid for being upstairs—”

  Kindiri grabbed her arm and dragged an enraged Mahrree to the privacy of a closet around the corner. “Please, Mrs. Shin! I didn’t mean to say anything—”

  “If you have any respect for the High General and his wife, you WILL put an end to this!” Mahrree insisted.

  Kindiri nodded, panicked. “He never came upstairs when the general was missing or ailing—I promise. We were both worried about him and Mrs. Shin. The best we could hope for was five minutes alone in the second pantry.”

  Mahrree rubbed the sides of her head. If ever she became the mistress of this mansion, all the servants would
be old and ugly. “Kindiri, if you have any respect for yourself, lock your bedroom door!” Then, realizing who she was talking to, she added, “With him on the outside of it.”

  “All right! All right, just . . . don’t tell the Shins. Please? He’ll never be upstairs again.”

  Mahrree knew the look on her face. It was the same trapped look her students had when they were backed up against a wall and there was only one way out, only one solution to the situation: lie.

  Kindiri was lying right now, but hoped that Mahrree would believe she’d really give poor old Tace and his fondness for sweet rolls and cucumbers a swift goodbye.

  But she wasn’t mistress of this mansion, fortunately. Someone else far more threatening was. She’d have a little chat later with her mother-in-law . . . and then maybe her father-in-law.

  She had to keep her lips from twitching into a wicked grin at the thought of the High General gesturing with just one intimidating index finger that a certain young lieutenant and a certain old general were going out to the stables for a talk.

  Instead, Mahrree pointed at Kindiri. “I’m putting a lot of trust you in, Kindiri. Don’t disappoint me. And don’t disappoint yourself.”

  Kindiri’s shoulders sagged in relief, although she didn’t seem to really understand what Mahrree was saying. She nodded quickly and hurried away to the back stairs. Mahrree chose to believe she was putting away the tablecloths in the linen closet up there.

  She walked back to the Great Hall to supervise the unrolling of the carpets again, and stopped abruptly.

  It had finally ceased snowing, and the sun broke out, dazzling everything in eye-squinting light.

  That meant it must have stopped snowing in Edge, too, a few hours ago.

  ---

  Perrin returned for midday meal about fifteen minutes later, blinking hard as he came in the back door that opened to the eating room.

  “A total of six inches of heavy wetness. I’m guessing twice as much in Edge. But the food reserves are plentiful at the garrison.” He sat wearily on a chair at the table where the family had gathered.

  His father, already eating last night’s leftovers for midday meal, didn’t even look up. “Don’t worry, son. I’m sure Edge’ll be all right.”

  Perrin shook his head and looked at Mahrree. “I think we need to be going home soon. I can’t get Edge out of my mind.”

  Mahrree sighed and nodded back. That was all she could think as soon as the snow stopped: we can go home now.

  “No!” Joriana cried. “You promised to stay another week. Please, there’s still so much more to see and do.”

  “Duty first, Mother, remember?” Perrin said sharply. “My duty is to Edge first, my family second. I’m sorry. Father’s well, and we’ve had our fun, as it were.”

  “Perrin,” Relf said gently, “wait for the news, then make your decision.”

  “I’ve already decided. Father, I want twelve large wagons of the reserves. I already have tentative approval from Giyak, and I spoke to the major over the stables. He agreed that they could supply me with enough horses, and the wagons would be available during the next few weeks. I did a full survey of the reserves and worked out just how much we need.” He handed his father a piece of paper with columns of numbers. “We’ll take the grain, there’s a huge amount of that. We can live on bread for a few weeks. Some of the dried venison would be helpful, too. Doesn’t seem to be many here who appreciate that, but people in Edge would.”

  “And something like dried apples and carrots, Perrin, for variety,” Mahrree suggested. “Those weigh less than the grain, so it might be easier to transport.”

  Perrin nodded. “Already included. That will get us by.”

  “It’s not that easy, son,” Relf said heavily. “I spoke with the Administrator of Taxation yesterday at The Dinner. He stayed only long enough to tell me taking any of the reserves is unthinkable.”

  “Why?” Perrin demanded. “Edge pays part of its taxes in goods. Some of that is theirs. I just want it returned. I’m asking for only a fraction of the reserves. No one will miss it. There’s no need here, only in Edge.”

  The general rubbed his forehead. “I understand that, and I agree. But the law is set. That reserve is for no one else but the Administrators, the army, and their families. And the laws take time to change.”

  “So I’m in the army, and I take it for my family. And,” he started to smile, “We’re all family. The Writings say so.” He held out his hands in triumph.

  Relf wasn’t buying that. “Do you want to guess how many of the Administrators read The Writings? Or how many in the army? Besides you, me, and Zenos, I think no one else. Perrin, we may have a battle on our hands.”

  “Surely not!” Mahrree said. “Dr. Brisack’s a reasonable man. Let’s start with him. I’ll hold our parenting information hostage until he agrees to help. And the Administrator of Security has agreed? Once we have those two, the other three might come along more easily.”

  “We have to try,” Perrin agreed. “After I eat I’ll go see Dr. Brisack.”

  Chapter 18 ~ “But the people of Edge are beginning to panic, sir.”

  The rest of the afternoon, while Mahrree, Peto, and Jaytsy sorted out the candlesticks, they watched the stables from the back windows of the large gathering room and waiting for Perrin to return from visiting Administrators.

  “Mother,” Jaytsy began slowly as she rubbed wax off of a candlestick, “what do you think your bedroom looks like now?”

  “Thank you, Jaytsy. I hadn’t thought of that at all, but now I am,” Mahrree said miserably as she pushed a full crate toward Peto for him to set it by the terrace doors.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean . . . I just thought you had considered it. Maybe you could get new blankets and pillows and everything.” Jaytsy brightened. “This could be really good!”

  “Jayts,” Mahrree groaned, “you’ve been in Idumea too long. You’re looking for reasons to go shopping.”

  The sound of horse’s hoofs made them look out the window. Perrin rode into the stable and came out a moment later. He burst through the terrace door announcing, “We have Brisack, but with provisions,” he cringed. “And Windrow, Administrator of Agriculture.”

  Mahrree smiled hesitantly. “What about the others?”

  Perrin shook his head and shut the door. “Gone on holiday. I’d forgotten many leave after The Dinner for a short recess. They won’t be back for three more days.”

  “So we can’t leave before then,” Peto said hopefully. “So we could still see the first kickball tournament? The director’s box?” His voice grew tiny when he saw the severe demeanor of his father.

  “Peto,” Perrin said gravely, “our village is facing a catastrophe, and you’re worried about a game? You and your grandfather’s plots will just have to wait for when starvation isn’t a threat!”

  Any additional guilt-laden lectures Perrin had planned were going to have to wait, because they heard many more horses outside, muffled by the slushy snow. The Shins looked out the windows to see several soldiers arrive in a hurry. Their shouts even brought a slow-moving General Shin to the gathering room.

  “What’s going on out there?” he demanded as he reached the large windows. Joriana joined him as more soldiers on horseback arrived, now a dozen, and a few were pulling another soldier roughly off a horse.

  Perrin opened the terrace door. “What’s this all about?”

  Mahrree leaped to her feet and ran to the door to stand with Perrin, because there was something familiar about the man they threw to the white ground. A soldier placed a boot on his back to keep him down.

  “Colonel, he stole a horse from the fort at Pools. And the horse he left in its place came from an Administrators’ messenger service! How many more he took, we’re about to find out. We caught up to him about a mile away from here, but he insists that you’d want to see him,” a captain said doubtfully. “So I thought you’d enjoy the privilege of incarcerating him yourself. We also have re
ason to believe he stole that jacket as well. There’s no way he can be a master sergeant!”

  The prisoner looked up pitifully, bits of slushy snow stuck to his face.

  “Qualipoe Hili?” Perrin rushed over to him. “Mahrree!”

  But she was already running behind Perrin to reach Poe who looked as if he had recently been beaten up. An eye was swelling shut and he had a fresh cut on his cheek.

  “But Colonel!” the captain said, reluctantly removing his boot from his back, “He’s—”

  “I’ll take care of this myself, Captain!” Perrin snapped as he lifted a weary Poe from the ground, Mahrree supporting him on the other side. “You and your men are excused. NOW!”

  The soldiers looked at each other in surprise as the colonel put an arm around their prisoner and helped him into the mansion. Joriana was already holding open the door for them.

  “What’s happened, Private?” Perrin said as he and Mahrree brought him into the gathering room. “Why are you here? Sit down, sit down.”

  But instead Private Hili did his best to stand at attention after Perrin released him. Clearly exhausted, and with his bruised eye getting narrower by the moment, Poe looked nervously at the High General of Idumea. Relf nodded to him encouragingly.

  “Sirs, I have an important message to deliver first.” He took a deep breath and recited what he’d carefully memorized. “Lieutenant Colonel Shin—”

  He paused when he noticed the brass buttons on Perrin’s uniform, but went on with his speech.

  “Master Sergeant Zenos—and Major Karna,” he added as an odd aside, “sent me to inform you that the reserves from the fort and the village were all moved to School Building Number Two to keep them secure from arriving thieves that . . . I knew from a previous endeavor,” he said in a nervous rush. “We had reports that food stores have been stolen all over the northern villages. We realized that Building Number Two is a central location for better distribution to the citizens. But early this morning, a few hours before dawn, excessive snow on the roof caused it to collapse, destroying most of the reserves.”