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

by Trish Mercer

  Perrin shook his head. “I don’t care. I’m going to say something to you,” he said with the beginnings of a smile. “And you’re going to hear it.”

  “No, son. That’s the kind of thing you say when you think you won’t see someone again. Save it for later.”

  Perrin smiled at the diversionary tactic. Relf had a dozen of those. “I don’t have to save it. I have an unlimited supply of words, saved up for the past forty-three years. And when you feel a great debt of gratitude and respect, and want someone to know—” He began to choke, unable to finish the preamble that wasn’t getting him any closer to what he wanted to say.

  “I know,” Relf said quietly. “Really. The feeling’s mutual.”

  Perrin shook his head, ignoring the tears that made his eyes itch. He was a full colonel, for crying out loud. How hard could this be? “No, you’re going to hear it! I know that look of dread in your eyes. It’s the same look you had when you walked Mahrree to the fort when you first met her. Father—” He was so sure he could say it this time, but the words piled up in his throat again.

  Relf took his son’s hand instead, pulled him close and, for the first time Perrin could remember, hugged him. “I love you too, son,” he muttered as his crutch clattered to the ground.

  “I love you, Father,” he whispered back and chuckled. “Now, how did you say it first? Because I’ve been practicing it in my head for days now!” He pulled away from the general and grinned blurrily at him.

  “I’ve been practicing for years,” Relf said gruffly and feigned a cough as cover.

  ---

  Mahrree had let herself out of the coach and stared in astonishment at the Shin men . . . hugging? Something in her heart twanged. She put her hands on her hips as father and son stepped away from each other and looked at the coach almost sheepishly.

  “When Shins decide to break rules, they break all of them, I see. General, may I be next?” and she held out her arms.

  To Perrin’s growing surprise, Relf hobbled over to oblige her.

  “Take care of him, all right?” Relf said in her ear. “And yourself?” He kissed her on the cheek.

  “Of course. And thank you for everything.” She squeezed him gingerly. “I really enjoyed getting to know Relf.” She stepped back just in time to see the High General of Idumea quickly wipe away a tear.

  Realizing he started a trend, Relf held out his arms to his willing grandchildren.

  Mahrree turned so as to not see their embrace. She was sure her heart would crack in half at any moment. But she turned the wrong way, and found Perrin holding his mother who was sobbing uncontrollably.

  “Just come to Edge, Mother. We’ll take care of you. Hycymum has room, I’m sure.”

  Joriana laughed in her sob, which was extremely inelegant.

  Perrin kissed her on the cheek. “I love you, Mother. Watch out for him, and yourself.”

  Joriana couldn’t speak but nodded as she kissed her son on the cheek, and didn’t even bother to wipe it off. She turned to Mahrree for another hug, needing someone to embrace.

  “Thank you for being so aggravating!” she whispered to Mahrree.

  Mahrree laughed softly. “Thank you for forcing us to Idumea. I’ll never forget these days. The Dinner was remarkable, and so are you.” And, remembering what Relf told her last night before The Dinner, she added, “I’m so impressed.”

  “You’ll be back, you know,” Joriana squeezed her tighter, obviously hearing what she wanted. “You will be in that mansion, and I’ll sit in that guest house and nag you all the time.”

  “I hope so, Mother.” Mahrree turned to Perrin and saw him holding the reins of a horse. There was no more time to spare.

  “I’ll ride behind you. We have only four guards: Hili and me, and two lieutenants. We won’t need more, I’m sure,” he said to her worried expression. “Can’t take too many garrison soldiers,” he whispered. “Even though Thorne’s got thousands here, he’s still not going to be pleased when he wakes up and finds about fifty of them missing.”

  Perrin watched his father finally release his grandchildren. He kissed each of them, and they rushed back to their grandmother for one last goodbye.

  “Need to go, now,” Relf said, wiping away another tear which defied the general. “There are hungry people waiting for you.”

  Relf tried to help Mahrree in the coach, and she pretended to let him. She watched as Relf lent a hand to each of his grandchildren, then stepped away from the coach and put an arm around his wife.

  It occurred to Mahrree she’d never seen him do that before.

  Joriana gripped her husband’s free hand and smiled fearlessly. Mahrree wondered if she was wearing the last dress she owned.

  Jaytsy and Peto, seated on either side of Mahrree since the bench across from them was occupied by crates of Joriana’s clothing, leaned to look out the window and waved miserably at their grandparents.

  Perrin mounted his horse and called over to the lead driver of the caravan who was waiting for the command. “I’ll take the back with the fort coach. You take the lead with the two lieutenants.”

  The soldier nodded and slapped the reins on his team to start the caravan.

  “Hili,” Perrin called to the private who was waiting on his mount several paces away, “ride near the tenth wagon. You can be the go-between man. Keep track of the condition of the horses. Let me know if any look like they’re failing.”

  Hili nodded to Perrin before saluting the High General.

  The general saluted him back and smiled. Mahrree would later tell Poe Hili how rare an honor that smile was.

  The Shin family watched in silence as the horses and the twenty full wagons headed toward the open gates of the garrison. It was only a short trip through the garrison to the open road reserved for the army through Idumea, where the horse teams would be spurred on to a gallop. The drivers knew time was of the essence, and that the loss of a horse or two was far less important than the loss of human lives. The first relief teams would be encountered in twelve miles.

  When the last of the wagons approached, and the coach followed to bring up the end, Mahrree peered out the window at her in-laws one last time.

  Perrin was also looking at his parents standing together in the cold.

  They gave him proud smiles.

  Perrin sat up tall and saluted his father.

  His father stood at solid attention and saluted back.

  Then Colonel Shin kicked his heels into his mount and followed the coach out of the garrison.

  Chapter 19 ~ “Mother, who’s driving the coach?”

  Chairman Nicko Mal stood at his front door impatiently waiting for Brisack to make his way up the thirty grand steps that lead to the mansion.

  “Well?” Mal hissed as the doctor jogged up to him. “Where is he?”

  Brisack reached the top and took a deep breath to refill his lungs. “I don’t know!”

  Mal squinted. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

  Brisack panted as he followed Mal into the mansion and to the library that used to be a throne room for five previous kings. “He wasn’t in his house, he wasn’t in his office, and he wasn’t at the inn where he takes all his meals. Those are the only three places I’ve ever seen Gadiman. He didn’t go on holiday, did he?”

  The severe scowl of Mal told Brisack he should know that answer.

  The doctor collapsed in his usual chair. “I can’t imagine where he’s off to.”

  Mal sat across from him and grumbled. “Well, it’s his own stupid fault. The first time we’re going to let him in on our planning session, and he disappears. He can’t complain, then, when we don’t include him again.”

  Brisack nodded, and ran his hand over his balding head to smooth down the last hairs. “So, tell me what happened with Relf this evening. Before we can speculate what they might do, I need to know exactly what he said.”

  “Agreed,” Mal said, taking a piece of parchment and handing it over. “I’ve already ma
de some notes. First, Relf barged in here as if this were his house . . .”

  ---

  If Mahrree and the children thought the trip to Idumea was uncomfortable, going back to Edge was even worse. Every spare inch of the coach was taken up by leftover dinner and dried goods from the Shins’ pantries and cellar.

  But it was a good kind of uncomfortable; no one would complain. At least it smelled pleasant. Altogether there was a sweetly savory scent that Mahrree wished she could have bagged and hung around her house. The mixture of apples, bread, dried beef and apricots would always remind her of this night, one she hoped she’d never forget.

  What could have been more satisfying than rushing home to Edge with much needed relief after saying such a poignant goodbye to Relf and Joriana? Mahrree felt they had been granted so many miracles in such a short time that it seemed as if the tender mercies of the Creator were focused entirely on her family. It didn’t seem fair to be the recipients of so much.

  They had suffered some too, but in the balancing of the Creator the miracles always outweighed the tragedies. They just needed to wait long enough, as her father Cephas frequently told her, for a happy ending.

  Mahrree sat with each child leaning against her. Jaytsy wept quietly and Peto stared out the dark window.

  “He’s an old wolf,” Peto whispered. “He’ll be all right.”

  “Of course he will,” Mahrree said, kissing his light brown hair. “And so will she,” she patted Jaytsy’s thigh. “It’s been an amazing trip, hasn’t it?” she said brightly. “When we get home we’ll have to write down everything.”

  Peto sneered. “Sounds like school work.”

  “That’s what we’ve been missing!” Mahrree snapped her fingers. “School work! Well, as soon as we’re home, we’ll begin on our own. No sense in us not keeping up.”

  “Oh, Mother!” Jaytsy sniffed. “What would the Administrator of Education say? Teaching your children at home?”

  Mahrree smiled at her children’s attempted chuckling. “I don’t really know. He was the only Administrator I didn’t talk to last night.”

  “I’m sure Father had that Administrator seated far, far away from you at dinner so you couldn’t debate him,” Peto said. “You’d definitely be written up by that gad-awful-man for sure if you did.”

  Mahrree and Jaytsy chuckled as Peto continued. “I can see the Administrator of Loyalty now in his little office somewhere, writing ‘Mahrree Peto Shin’ in big bold letters on some ugly file, then sneering at it. ‘You’re in trouble now, lady!’”

  Peto’s old man voice was so funny Mahrree laughed out loud.

  “You know, he was there last night,” she told her children. “At least for the dancing.”

  Jaytsy frowned. “Was he that tall, gangling man in black? Looked like a constipated weasel?”

  “Yes, I didn’t realize you noticed anything else,” Mahrree said with a hint of suggestion, “but the young men you danced with.”

  “Oh, I noticed him,” Jaytsy shuddered. “He kept watching me. And Father, too.”

  Mahrree fidgeted. “Really? I didn’t notice.”

  “Then it’s probably good,” Jaytsy murmured, “that you didn’t notice him watching you, as well.”

  Peto snickered as Mahrree exclaimed, “What?!”

  They heard a knock on the side of the coach, and Peto put his head out the window.

  “Hey, I heard laughing. Don’t have so much fun without me, now,” Perrin said from his horse.

  “Well, you’re where all the action is, Father,” Peto said. “I have to keep the women entertained all by myself.”

  Perrin grinned and nodded as Peto sat back.

  Mahrree decided not to say anything more about Gadiman. Each member of her family was trying hard to keep up a cheerful attitude, but it was a precariously balanced mood. The slightest knock would send it all crashing down.

  “I swore last time I was going to bring something to read,” Jaytsy sighed. “I wished I would’ve grabbed something from the study.”

  “Well, it’s too dark to read and the selection of books was too dull. I tried a few of them,” Mahrree told her.

  “Oh, I don’t know. There was one titled ‘Physical Characteristics of Soldiering’ that could’ve been interesting,” Jaytsy hedged.

  Mahrree laughed. “I’m pretty sure it wasn’t full of details of handsome young men, Jayts! Ah, it’s a good thing we’re leaving. Seeing all those young men around you last night . . .” Mahrree waited for Jaytsy to finish.

  “They were all right,” she said as she played with the hem on her cloak.

  When another pause went by with no further details, Mahrree decided to try again. “I noticed Lieutenant Thorne danced a lot with you.”

  “Yes, but . . . I don’t know. He was so serious. Handsome, I’ll admit that,” she said analytically as if evaluating a new dessert, “but so army-ish. Much worse than Father. He kept wanting to talk about tactics and horses. Blah!”

  Mahrree breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s all I wanted to know.”

  “Why, did his grandmother say anything to you?”

  Mahrree turned to her daughter. “Did she say anything to you?”

  “Yes!” Jaytsy exclaimed. “Mrs. Cush stopped me between dances to tell me how young her daughter was when she got married, how darling Father looked holding that baby, how I could make a lot of people happy—It was disturbing! I don’t want to be a mother in two years. I have to see the world first.”

  “And so you shall, Jaytsy,” Mahrree declared. “All of it, before any Thornes can come prick you again.”

  They chuckled and Peto rolled his eyes.

  “By the way,” Mahrree said, trying to sound nonchalant, “I also noticed Lieutenant Thorne whispered something to you as they were leaving. Uh . . . what was it?”

  Jaytsy shrugged. “Something odd like, if I ever wanted to know all the secrets of the garrison, he could give me a private tour and show me things I’d never imagined.”

  “And you giggled at that?”

  Jaytsy sighed in exasperation. “Mother, I know what you’re going to say next, and I agree: it was well after midnight, I was very tired, and everything for some dumb reason seemed giggle-worthy. Just . . . dumb.”

  Once again Mahrree was taken aback by how mature her daughter could suddenly be, even if she wasn’t very articulate.

  “There was a lot that was dumb last night, when you think about it,” Jaytsy continued. “Did you see that old lady with the bag that was covered in colored stones? I mean, just how much did that thing weigh before she put anything in it?”

  The trip was easier once they, by unspoken agreement, focused on everything “dumb” they were leaving behind in Idumea. The jams. The crowds. The constant stream of people to and from the Shin mansion. Sometimes it felt more like the garrison than a home, with the number of uniforms that tramped in and out. They carefully avoided any topics that would remind them of who they left behind, and what they might find ahead.

  When they arrived at the first changing station between Idumea and Pools, Perrin rode over to check on them.

  “Spirits holding up?” he whispered to Mahrree.

  “Yes, very well. We’re all being careful. How’s the caravan?”

  “So far the wagons seem secure, and the teams held out pretty well at this pace,” Perrin told her. “I hope the replacements are just as steady, but we may be getting some mixed qualities coming up. I’ve spoken to a few owners and they understand the need for their horses. They think the Administrators have organized all of this, and I’ve heard nothing but praise for their ‘generous action’ for Edge.” His tone developed an irritated quality.

  “Maybe word will get back to Idumea about the citizens’ perceptions,” Mahrree pointed out, “and by the time the Administrators find out, they’ll take all the praise themselves and go easy on your father."

  Perrin sighed. “That would be the best solution, wouldn’t it? Looks like the last of the hors
es are changed. It’s about fifteen miles to the next stop between Pools and Vines. We won’t have any reason to stop in Pools. Gizzada’s is closed for the night, even though a wagonful of his sandwiches could feed the village for a week.”

  Mahrree and Jaytsy spent the next leg of the trip thoroughly criticizing each dress from the night before, while Peto sighed loudly about his boredom. But he stopped when they heard the shouting.

  And they realized it was Perrin.

  “Behind! Behind! HILI!”

  Mahrree gripped the window frame and peered outside. In the dark she couldn’t discern anything, but thought she recognized Poe on horseback whipping past the coach to follow Perrin, along with the two lieutenants.

  “Mother, what’s going on?” Peto asked.

  “I don’t know. Something’s wrong,” she said, straining to hear anything above the clattering of the coach. There seemed to be more riders behind them than just four.

  Then she heard a distant sound that churned her stomach.

  Swords clanging.

  Then there was more shouting, and a horse quickly overtook the coach.

  Instinctively Mahrree drew back. The man on the horse passing the coach wasn’t in a uniform, but wore dark clothing and his face was blackened.

  Mahrree sat back, breathing heavily.

  “What is it?” Jaytsy asked.

  The driver of the coach answered her as he shouted to the teams ahead of him. “Attack! Under attack!”

  “Down, on the floor, now!” Mahrree ordered.

  As her whimpering children slid off their seats and huddled together on the floor, Mahrree put her head cautiously out the window, only later to realize that wasn’t at all cautious.

  The dark rider was now overtaking the wagon ahead of them. He leaped from his horse onto the wagon and out of Mahrree’s view. She sank back down, trying to think and trying not to panic.

  “What do they want?” Peto wondered.

  “I think they want the food,” Mahrree said, struggling to keep her voice steady.