by Trish Mercer
General Shin looked at each one of them with unusual sadness in his eyes. “You leave tonight. In one hour.”
Each Shin gasped. Poe’s eyes popped open.
“I’ve already sent a messenger to the garrison. Your twenty wagons should be hitched up in the next few minutes. They’ll be wanting these notes,” he held up Perrin’s calculations. “I thought your Private Hili would bring it over there.”
“Yes sir!” Poe stepped up to take the page, but the general held on to it.
“In a moment; I’m not finished yet. I just want all of you to know the importance of leaving as soon as possible.”
“Because you got nowhere with the Chairman, did you?” Perrin asked in a dead tone.
Relf stiffened at the implication. “I’m the High General of Idumea, Colonel Shin! I can order whatever I want. I can choose to make the most important decision of my career without anyone’s approval. Is that clear?”
Perrin bit his lower lip, but his jaw still trembled as he regarded his father with renewed pride. “Absolutely, General!”
Relf’s stance softened a bit, and he pretended to toss something on his desk. “That gesture would be a lot more impressive if I still had the key to the reserve to throw down in dramatic emphasis, but I already sent it to the garrison with a messenger.”
Joriana was growing pale. “Relf, what does this all mean?”
Relf hobbled around his desk to his wife. “It means that I’ve ordered the reserves to be released without anyone else’s permission. There’s no real Guarder threat, but the threat of Nicko finding out and trying to stop us.”
Mahrree squirmed anxiously and gripped the arms of her children on either side of her, on the pretense of reassuring them.
“But I refuse to wait weeks for the Administrators to make a decision!” Relf declared. “People’s lives are more important than living like a king.” He glanced over at Private Hili, who gulped. “I’m convinced the Creator never intended anyone to live like a king. He created all of us equal. We’re to provide relief with the excess He has given us.” Relf put a hand on his wife’s arm. His tone was uncharacteristically gentle when he said, “You and I will just live with the consequences.”
Joriana’s chin began to wobble. “Of course, of course.” She turned to her family. “You come back, as soon as you can. I can’t bear the thought of living in this big empty house without you!”
Mahrree couldn’t fight the tears anymore. “Of course we’ll be back. Next season, even!”
Everyone in the room knew it was a lie, but it felt good to hear it anyway.
“Wasting time,” the general said in a shaky voice. “Get packing. The fort coach is getting ready as we speak. You women and Peto get it loaded up. Perrin, you and I and Hili will take my carriage to the garrison. I want to see to this personally.”
Peto’s sudden movement caught everyone off guard. He rushed his grandfather, forgetting about his mending ribs, and caught him in a big hug.
Relf wrapped his arms around him, as much for the support as for the embrace. “Glad you came, boy.”
Peto nodded into his grandfather’s chest. Jaytsy turned to her grandmother and hugged her as well. The two of them began to sob so loudly Mahrree started to chuckle through her tears.
Perrin caught Mahrree’s eye. “We’ll meet you at the garrison.” He glanced around the study as if trying to memorize the room. His gaze lingered on the large portrait of High General Pere Shin, and his shoulders slumped.
Mahrree looked at her grandfather-in-law as well, his stern eyes still twinkling as they did the first morning. It was the right decision to leave with the reserves, he seemed to be saying. Sometimes only one man can go over the wall . . .
. . . or release the stores.
Pere Shin would be proud of his son.
Perrin turned to Mahrree. “Don’t forget anything, all right? All my clothes should be in the wardrobe. Let’s go, Father. Peto, you can finish good-byes at the garrison.”
Peto nodded and wiped away a tear. His grandfather gripped Peto’s head and kissed him quickly on the forehead, then hobble-marched out of the room with Perrin and Hili.
---
“You’re absolutely sure about this?” Gadiman asked the lieutenant who stood in his dark doorway.
“By the oaths, sir, yes.”
Gadiman clenched his teeth, made a fist, and huffed. “Yes! Now go—we don’t want anyone to miss you. And get out of my way! I have a visit of my own to make.”
Gadiman snatched his overcoat from the hook and put it on as he barreled out the back door.
Finally!
His chance to redeem himself was laid right at his doorstep. Thirteen years ago his plan to use two lieutenants to assassinate the High General and Joriana Shin at the fort of Edge had gone terribly wrong; there was a fool in his foolproof plan. The two lieutenants were found dead at door of the guest bedroom at the fort, their long knives protruding from their bodies, and Relf and Joriana Shin completely unharmed.
Brisack said the officers killed each other, but the doctor had doctored their files himself. It was the cover story, but what truth was it covering? Gadiman had never been able to find out. He always suspected the problem was that Lieutenant Heth simply wasn’t ready, but Mal was sure he was.
It would be his hunger that would make him succeed, Mal had insisted. The former Sonoforen—the Son of Oren; Gadiman never got that until just now—while he wanted to succeed, either wasn’t “hungry” enough or clever enough to pull it off.
Desire rarely equates ability, yet simple-minded folks thought all they needed was something inane like believing in themselves to get whatever they wanted. But when, in all the history of the world, had that occurred except in made-up stories?
It was hard work and patience that accomplished great things, at just the right moment. And someone, years ago, had seen the “right moment” and thwarted Gadiman’s well-planned assassination.
Gadiman shook his head as he jogged along in the cold night. For so many years his failure had kept him from that inner circle in Mal’s library. So close he’d come to moving beyond being their errand man to becoming a strategist—
Then Mal’s heart gave him problems. Brisack said it was caused by the failure in Edge, but Gadiman knew it was just another story.
Then they stopped meeting so frequently, and the orders for Gadiman tapered off to nothing. But he kept waiting, and planning, and thinking.
Then, only weeks ago, Mal invited him to his office to tell him he was bored and wanted to be entertained again. The Guarders were about to return.
It didn’t take Gadiman long to make all the connections again. In fact, there seemed to be even more willing to renew the oaths. Several brought their sons, too. They were tired of thieving to support themselves, and wanted the direction that had come in the beginning, along with the easy gold.
It was going to be better this time, Gadiman knew. No more of this petty thieving nonsense, oh no. Everyone was hungry, and they could earn their gold the honorable way through properly planned raids and murders.
And, as proof that he was ready for the inner circle, tonight Gadiman had the perfect plan. There wasn’t any time for Mal and his library mouse to gab endlessly about what to do. By the time they finally came up with something, Gadiman would already be standing at the door, ready to show them the most spectacular success they’d seen in years.
They once wanted Perrin Shin brought to his knees. Gadiman would present him writhing on the floor.
---
The next hour was a blur.
Mahrree knew all that she had to grab, but couldn’t seem to get a hold of any of it. As hastily as they came, they were more hastily leaving. She tried to shake off the heaviness of this parting. The Shins had visited them dozens of times before, but never had a visit been so full of unexpected drama, from start to finish. It shouldn’t have made a difference how they separated today, but somehow it did. The Shins were scheduled to visit th
em in Edge during Weeding Season. Perhaps it was the worry of what could happen until then that seemed to cripple Mahrree.
As she fumbled to pack her husband’s uniforms and work clothes she smiled that maybe by Weeding Season both officers would be staring at a field of cattle, now their own, trying to figure out how to be ranchers. She loved the idea of father and son and grandson trying to corral the cows that ran in terror from Perrin.
There were so many options, she assured herself as she shoved her new dresses into the bag, but purposely left the gray silk gown in the wardrobe. It’d be difficult to get all their new things to fit as it was.
The men could rebuild houses and the collapsed school. Cultivate the catapult fields. Go into business with Poe Hili and become private guards for the Edge of Idumea housing community. Someone needed to man the gates they just put in. Who better than the man who created the need for the gates, and the man who—usually—stopped him? Relf could do the paperwork.
Mahrree laid Perrin’s dress uniform on top and ran her hand over the medals and ribbons. Silly little decorations. Chasing cows and thieves were much better vocations.
Before she had time to wonder what to do with the rest of her new clothes, Joriana came to the door, pushing a huge crate filled with dresses.
“Add anything you don’t really like to the pile, dear. That purple one doesn’t flatter your eye color,” she huffed, a few stray hairs dangling out of her perfect bun. “Surely someone in Edge can use these things. Some of these I haven’t touched in years. Seems a waste doesn’t it? Clothes should be worn.” Tears filled her eyes again and she rushed out of Mahrree’s room before she could respond.
There could be a place for her as well in Edge, Mahrree decided as she tossed the rest of her clothing into the crate. Someone needed to teach Edgers how to dance. Joriana could be as resourceful as Kuman.
A thought sprung into Mahrree’s mind, and she nearly laughed out loud. Hycymum could sew, and these two grandmothers could make a wonderful dress shop, as long as they didn’t drive each other insane with their ideas of what was elegant. Hycymum always thought everything should be accented with a flower or a stylized insect that looked ‘charming.’ Joriana thought embellishments should consist of jewels and gold. Mahrree combined the two in her mind and shuddered at the thought of jewelry cockroaches.
Still, it had potential.
---
Perrin clapped a hand on Private Hili’s shoulder as they stood outside in the growing dark and watched the hitching of the forty horses to the twenty wagons. Perrin only wished it wasn’t by torchlight. So many animals, wagons, and men working together would have been a grand sight for Poe to witness. High General Shin was in the Reserve Storehouse nearby, recommending how to load the goods for the best balance of weight.
“Doing all right, Poe?” Perrin asked quietly. “I’m sorry to be sending you back north already. Most people never get to Idumea.”
“It’s all right, sir,” Poe assured him. “My welcome to the city wasn’t the friendliest. I don’t have a lot of desire to stay.”
Perrin squeezed his shoulder. “I am sorry about that, but very grateful. You’ve done a brave and exceptional thing today. I made arrangements for you on the third wagon. You can nap on the bags of dried apples.”
Poe turned quickly to him. “No, sir. I thought I was riding with you!”
Perrin shook his head. “You’ve slept only a few hours—”
“You’d be surprised what I accomplished with only a few hours of sleep, sir.” Poe cleared his throat. “Or, perhaps shocked.”
When Perrin chuckled sadly, Poe added, “Remember—I’m Mr. Out All Night. I can help you, sir. I’ve had a few lessons with the sword, too. And more recently than when I was nine and you taught me how to hold one. Apparently I’m a natural.”
Perrin didn’t answer right away, but watched the positioning of another wagon for yet another team of horses.
“How about you act as a relief driver?” he eventually suggested. “Each wagon will have two drivers, one to drive, the other with his long knife out and ready. You could still rest, then—”
“I can handle it, sir,” Poe promised.
Perrin felt his shoulder droop under his hand.
“Oh. I see now. Sorry, sir.”
“Sorry about what, Poe?”
“You don’t trust me yet. I don’t blame you—”
“That’s not it at all, Private,” Colonel Shin said firmly. “I have complete faith in you. You’ve already demonstrated your devotion to me and to Edge.” Then, in a gentler tone he added, “But Poe, you look thin and exhausted. I really am just worried about you.”
Poe grinned. “Sir, I always look thin and exhausted. And I promise, all I need are a few hours of sleep, and I’m good for the rest of the night. Try me!”
Perrin slapped him on the back. “Then go get us two mounts. And uh, Poe? Ask for them this time.”
---
Somehow Mahrree, Jaytsy and Peto got everything packed in bags and two large crates. Even Peto’s new ball from his grandfather was shoved into a corner of the coach that wasn’t occupied by food that Joriana had Kindiri pack. Two captains from the garrison loaded everything into the coach, and all too soon it was time to go.
Mahrree felt as if she could barely breathe from the rush of it all. Was it really just last night that she was watching the dancers and her husband, who nearly all of Idumea came out to meet?
But also just last night she’d been so homesick for Edge. Now that she was heading back there she was confused to find herself missing Idumea. Her head pounded so much with trying to sort it all out that she just wanted to sit on the ground and wail like the baby Perrin held in his arms.
But it was time to go.
Peto and Jaytsy climbed in the coach, both of them sniffling and subtly wiping their eyes. Before Mahrree took to the coach steps, she looked to say goodbye to the majestic house, but she had to turn away. There was much she disliked about Idumea, but she had to confess that on an occasion or two she had fancied herself as mistress of the mansion. She’d even paid attention to where Joriana placed all of the notes from The Dinner. Those were the moments when she forgot she was Edgy.
But then she’d remember there was no place else that could ever be home.
From the kitchen Kindiri came running with a basket to interrupt her disparate thoughts. “Mrs. Shin—here!”
Mahrree took the basket. “Apples?”
“Yes,” Kindiri panted. “I overheard you one day telling Mrs. Shin that you haven’t seen these in Edge since last year. And since you’re leaving so suddenly, I wanted to give you something for your trip home. I found them in the cellar. I trust all will be well.”
She wasn’t very good at that, Mahrree thought. Her obvious wink when she said “trust” nearly bobbed her entire head. Mahrree suspected Kindiri hoped her gestures would be enough to keep Mahrree from telling Joriana, who stood right behind her, about her and Riplak’s late night dalliances.
Mahrree smiled guardedly at Kindiri, because she’d already decided to send Joriana a letter when she got back to Edge. “Yes, I trust they will be as well. Thank you for the apples, and remember to lock your door,” she added in a whisper.
“I will,” Kindiri lied.
Mahrree turned to her mother-in-law.
“Oh, I’m coming with you! As far as the garrison, that is,” Joriana added as she prodded Mahrree to get into the coach.
Mahrree gripped her arm. “And then come to Edge, as soon as you can. Just bring a bag of grain.”
They climbed in the coach for the short ride to the garrison. Joriana put her arm around her daughter-in-law as they sat next to each other on the bench, leaning sadly against each other.
“Be careful, all right?” Mahrree said to her.
“I was about to say that to you,” Joriana sniffed.
“Grandmother,” said Jaytsy, with tears in her eyes, “are you and Grandfather going to be in trouble?”
&
nbsp; Joriana put on a brave smile that looked convincing in the growing darkness. “The Administrators owe us a great debt. If we’re in trouble, then it’s just a little. Perhaps we’ll retire early.”
“And come to Edge,” Mahrree repeated.
Joriana nodded. “That’s a possibility I’m entertaining more every minute, Mahrree.”
---
Perrin made his way over to the Reserve Storehouse. The loading of the twenty oversized wagons, designed extra deep and long for hauling supplies to forts, was nearly finished.
High General Shin came out to watch with his son as dozens of soldiers methodically moved bag after bag into last wagon. Frost was definitely in the air, and Perrin was grateful he remembered to wear his thick riding coat.
Relf leaned slightly against him. It’d been a draining couple of days for a man who nearly died not too long ago. “I estimate you have a good eight hours ahead of you before any Administers realize you’re gone without permission,” Relf told him. “Maybe even twelve. Barring any breakdowns or delays, you could even be home by tomorrow evening. Don’t push the caravan any faster than you have to. These are tremendous loads and the horses will be well-strained as it is.” In a quieter tone he added, “And with most of the Administrators gone until after Holy Day, you may have everything distributed before any of them even realize what’s happened.”
The Edge fort coach containing Mahrree, Joriana, and the children rolled up to the storehouse. Perrin sighed when he saw it. It meant the end.
“Well, this is it, I suppose,” Relf said to his son. He stood tall, supporting himself with his crutch, and formally held out his hand.
Perrin looked at it, insulted. “That’s not going to be good enough tonight, Father.”
“It’s going to have to be,” Relf said stoically. “We’re on garrison land.”
