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

by Trish Mercer

Gadiman surveyed the scene in front of him and scowled.

  Hundreds of guests were stuffed into the mansion, with many spilling out onto the terraces to enjoy the surprisingly warm evening. Officers, wives, Administrators, citizens, teenagers, a few small children, and even several enlisted men wearing eager and uncomfortable expressions lined the walls of the Grand Hall, talking and laughing and . . . mingling, the word might be.

  Dozens of couples were in the middle of the Hall, twirling to bouncy little melodies played by the ten musicians who sounded to Gadiman like the raucous birds that rudely woke him every morning. The Chairman had ordered Gadiman to come, and he conveniently missed The Dinner portion. Small talk was not one of his strengths. Nor did it seem it would be necessary right now either, since several people took a large step away from him as he entered the open front doors.

  Watch people. That’s what the Chairman said to do. And don’t wear the red coat.

  He always ‘watched’ people. He had crates full of files to prove it.

  But Mal had said there was a different kind of watching. Gadiman looked around the crowded mansion for a corner to lurk in. He praised himself again for choosing to wear the long black coat which blended with the shadows cast by the hundreds of candles burning along the walls, and from the chandeliers hanging over the dance area.

  He noticed an empty corner opposite of the front doors and walked straight toward it. Several dancing couples tripped and dodged away to avoid colliding with the unexpected presence of the Administrator of Loyalty as he marched through the dance floor, but he didn’t pay them any attention. He positioned himself against the corner, feeling safe that no one could be behind him.

  And then he watched.

  Five minutes later he wondered if it was enough. It really was quite tiresome and he wasn’t getting anything out of it.

  But then he recognized Mrs. Mahrree Shin talking with a girl that looked like a puff of yellow smoke. He focused on the girl’s dark eyes: they were exactly like Colonel Shin’s. She must have been their daughter.

  Mrs. Shin, who had wedged herself between side tables loaded with leftovers and desserts, was dressed in a gray silk gown with a skirt that was uselessly twice as full as the woman was wide. She smiled as she handed her flushed daughter a glass of water.

  A young officer in his dress uniform stood waiting, presumably for his turn to dance with the girl, but his face was partially obscured by other guests. The Shins’ daughter handed the glass back to her mother, smiled at the young officer, and took his arm.

  As they turned to the dance floor, Gadiman stood taller when he recognized the sandy-haired boy who looked a great deal like his mother: Lieutenant Lemuel Thorne, Cush’s grandson. Gadiman spotted Colonel QayinThorne over by another corner and quickly made his way to him.

  “Do you see what’s going on out there?” Gadiman interrupted the colonel’s discussion with a visiting major.

  “Administrator Gadiman,” Colonel Thorne said coolly, “may I introduce you to . . . . Hmm, looks like he left. How surprising.”

  “Out there!” Gadiman pointed. “Your son?”

  Thorne looked out at the dancers and a partial smile came across his face. “Yes, he’s dancing with Miss Shin.”

  “Do you think that’s wise?” Gadiman hissed.

  “Most definitely. I instructed him to find her, in fact.”

  “Why?”

  Thorne turned his glare full on to Gadiman. With his heavy brow and prominent nose, Thorne always reminded Gadiman of an angry eagle. Gadiman had tried a few times to replicate the expression in a mirror, but he always came off as constipated rather than intimidating.

  “Because, Gadiman,” Thorne sharpened his gaze into piercing, “consider: the granddaughter of the High General of Idumea with the grandson of his Advising General. Cush told me himself that the Shin boy wants nothing to do with the army. If Colonel Shin ever becomes a general, he will have no heir to continue the tradition. But, if he has a ready son-in-law . . .”

  Gadiman nodded. “Ah, I see. After Perrin Shin is High General, then your son would be the first High General Thorne.”

  Thorne’s low gurgling noise made Gadiman take a hesitant step backward.

  “No,” Thorne said between clenched teeth, “I will be the first High General Thorne! I would have been promoted to general by this evening had a certain old man been left to rot in his cellar storage room. Cush would have been named High General for the next four years until he retires, and I would have been made his Advisor. But, as it is, I’ll have to bide my time a bit longer, and make sure my son secures the line for yet another generation of generals.”

  Gadiman nodded. He could appreciate that kind of long-term planning. But, “I thought Mal wanted to bring Shin to Idumea?”

  “Oh, he will,” Thorne said with a smile that tried to be genuine but was too smug. “Snyd was hoping for a move, but the garrison needs a new colonel in charge of requisitions and other mundane things, so Shin can have the pleasure of serving under me for a few years.”

  Something in the way Thorne said “pleasure” made Gadiman’s skin crawl, and he decided that was another Thorne tactic he could try to practice.

  “It will also give him some experience being my Advisor when I’m High General.”

  Gadiman considered that. “But won’t having him here make future research plans . . . complicated?”

  “A natural assumption,” Thorne intoned, “coming from someone who is easily confused. But for me, it will create a scenario that will provide years of fascinating entertainment. Mal and Brisack aren’t the only ones who can straddle the fence to use both sides. Besides, my legs are much longer. The world hasn’t seen anything yet.”

  Gadiman blinked, sensing he’d been insulted somewhere in there, but was too intrigued by what Thorne was intimating to mention it.

  “And with Shin’s daughter as my daughter-in-law,” Thorne continued, “well, considering how securely she has her father under her influence, she could be quite valuable. After she’s been tamed, that is. Did you see them at dinner?”

  “No, I missed that, fortunately.” Gadiman watched the two young people dancing in and out among other couples. Lieutenant Thorne was far more poised on horseback, but somehow his stiff movements drew a giggle from the Shin girl.

  “Well,” Thorne bristled, “she was most forward and overly confident. Even though she was at the table behind me, she disrupted my explanation as to the particulars of increasing security at the Trades gold mine.”

  Gadiman’s nose wrinkled. “How so?”

  “No one could hear my conclusion over the laughter from the Shin table!”

  “Laughter?”

  “It gets worse,” Thorne groused. “Those seated around me at Cush’s table wanted to know the source of the amusement, as did those at General Shin’s table. So the High General invited his granddaughter to stand up and retell her story for everyone!”

  Gadiman, used to eating alone at the same inn each night, tried to discern if this was normal behavior or not. “So, she . . .”

  “Got up!” Thorne exclaimed. “Went to the head of her grandfather’s table, and told everyone in very lively terms how something called ‘The Strongest Soldier Race’ was run last year. Apparently up in Edge they’ve turned the running training into something of a contest between Colonel Shin and an enlisted man.”

  Gadiman, who understood about officers and enlisted men’s places, cringed in revulsion.

  “Not only that,” Thorne continued, “Major Karna is the one who sets up the race each year. And Cush was just speculating that it was time to give Karna his own command!”

  Gadiman sniffed in disappointment, which seemed appropriate.

  “So it seems,” Thorne droned on as he watched his son dancing with the presumptuous teenager at the other end of the room, “Karna sets up challenges for each stretch of the race. One stretch required Shin to deliver a chicken.”

  “Why?”

&nb
sp; “Part of the challenge,” Thorne scoffed. “Had to deliver it for someone’s dinner.”

  Gadiman shook his head. “He could have easily said he ate it. It was delivered, and was someone’s dinner—his!” He beamed at his own idea.

  “It was a live chicken!” Thorne said loudly in Gadiman’s ear.

  “Ah,” said Gadiman flatly.

  Then, “Wait, that’s ridiculous.”

  Then, after yet another moment, he ventured, “He ran with a live chicken? What, tucked under his arm? Do chickens enjoy that?”

  “Apparently not,” Thorne sighed. “Part of the amusement of the story. It seems that chickens have strong pecking and clawing instincts when someone sprints them away from their coops. The other supposedly humorous part of the story came when Miss Shin described the enlisted man’s challenge—a man she called initially ‘Uncle Shem.’ He was to navigate his way through a pasture filled with several dozen she-goats—”

  “Simple enough,” Gadiman said, growing bored with the conversation.

  “—into which half a dozen lonely billy goats had been released only moments before? It seems that while the colonel was dealing with a combative chicken, Uncle Shem was being mistaken for an attractive female by the largest billy goat.”

  Gadiman tried to imagine the scene. “I don’t get it.”

  “No,” Thorne exhaled loudly. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Wait a minute,” Gadiman turned to the colonel. “What’s an Uncle Shem?”

  “Took you long enough to ask. He’s your gift for the evening,” Thorne said, his eyes still focused on his son and his dancing partner. “Although I don’t see why you deserve it.”

  Gadiman saw the pieces in front of him, but struggled to put it all together.

  Thorne noticed. “You really should’ve been at The Dinner. That’s when you would’ve picked up on that tasty morsel I just gave you. The colonel had to remind his daughter—rather too kindly, I thought—of how the man should be referred to in such a public setting. ‘Uncle Shem’ is a master sergeant, and a favorite of the Shin family. Shem Zenos has been like their uncle since the children were very small. He used to be their baby tender.” Thorne gave him a deliberate look that dared him to not be so dense as to not figure it out.

  Gadiman’s eyes grew large. “Baby tender? Wasn’t the baby tender once suspected to be—”

  “You, my dear Administrator, are as slow, and obvious, and useful as mudslide coming down the Idumean River. Do watch yourself,” Thorne breathed. “It’s your sloppiness that held you back in the past. Don’t let it be your downfall now that things are growing interesting again.”

  Gadiman squirmed. He knew Colonel Thorne knew things, but he didn’t know if Qayin knew whose idea the failed attempt on High General and Mrs. Shin’s life was many years ago. He fidgeted more at the assumption that he was “sloppy.” The failure was not his fault! It was someone else’s. It was . . .

  “Name was Shem Zenos, you said?”

  “Do you know it?”

  “I will.”

  Thorne’s son and the Shin girl twirled past them.

  Thorne smiled encouragingly to the couple, and then his smile slid into a sneer. “She even acted out the tale,” he recalled. “It seems that all Shins enjoy audiences. And her father just grinned at her, as if she was something remarkable. Almost as insufferably as he looked at his wife.” He cleared his throat in disapproval. “A man can’t think properly when under such influences.”

  Gadiman nodded in agreement. The lieutenant and the girl stepped past them again in a wide circle. “And still you approve of this?”

  “My father’s a most excellent horse breeder,” Thorne said. “He always told me one can’t be too particular about what kind of package the bloodlines come in. Perhaps the coloring is off, or the height isn’t quite what you’re looking for, but if it contains the right blood, don’t discount it. It can still produce a remarkable offspring.”

  Gadiman shrugged, not entirely following Thorne’s meaning as he eyed the Shin girl. “How old is she, twelve?”

  Thorne chuckled mirthlessly. “No, just turned fifteen.”

  “Girls get married at that age?”

  “Usually a little older. I married Mrs. Thorne when she was seventeen.”

  “So he has a couple of years to . . .” Gadiman wasn’t sure of the word. It had something to do with the law or—

  “Court her, yes,” Thorne grumbled the pointless phrase. “Even though he’s seven years older than her, I don’t see that as a hindrance. I’m almost six years older than my wife. Still, he should go to Edge while Shin’s there. He met Shin a few days ago and seemed to respect him enough.”

  “Where’s Colonel Shin, anyway?” Gadiman asked, looking at the crowd.

  “Not dancing. He’s over there, by the doors to the terrace. The man looking utterly wretched with the fake smile on his face?” Thorne snickered. “This isn’t his kind of thing. He suffered through dinner well enough, but as soon as the tables were removed, you would’ve thought they’d killed his favorite horse and served it for dessert. For the opening dance, he ducked out to the back terrace and left my in-laws to begin the music.” Thorne sniffed. “He returned with two corporals and two girls, and pushed them to the dance floor. Said he understood it was his job to ‘get the party started.’ That’s not behavior fitting for a future general.”

  “Agreed,” Gadiman said, pretending he understood the appalling breach in protocol Colonel Shin had committed by not beginning the dance himself with his wife since his father couldn’t.

  Gadiman spotted the colonel on the other side of the Hall standing stiffly a few feet away from anyone else. He seemed to be trying to find his daughter, while unconsciously patting the new brass buttons on his uniform. Gadiman couldn’t tell if he was making sure they were still there or trying to cover them up.

  “Two corporals you say? Here?”

  Thorne exhaled in disgust. “He invited more than a dozen enlisted men. From the corporal who got them through the traffic when they arrived, to the sergeant who led the search for his father. And when Snyd showed up with Sergeant Oblong, Shin sent out an entire platter of food for him and his private.” Thorne shook his head. “Those kind don’t belong here.”

  But then he chuckled coldly and folded his arms. “I think the only thing that would make Shin more wretched was if someone tried to get him to dance. I don’t know where his wife vanished to. She seemed to avoid the floor just as quickly. Versula was intending to coerce Shin into asking her to dance, but she’s busy with somebody’s child somewhere.” Thorne sounded disappointed. “To think, some people even brought their young children. Yes, it’s for the families, but seriously—look at Colonel Nelt’s son over there, the lieutenant? See him trying to figure out why his wife can’t calm down that baby?” Colonel Thorne shook his head.

  But Gadiman’s eye was caught by Colonel Shin’s movement. He was heading straight for Lieutenant Nelt and his wife who were sitting at a small table near a wall. Gadiman nudged Thorne, but the colonel was already watching.

  Colonel Shin walked up to the young couple, smiling broadly. They were so involved with trying to calm down their squalling baby that they didn’t notice his presence until he put a hand on the lieutenant’s shoulder and said something to him.

  The lieutenant looked at his wife in surprise, and she looked back at him, stunned. Her dark complexion flushed even deeper, while her husband’s brown skin seemed to pale to almost as light as Shin himself.

  Asked them to leave, Gadiman thought to himself. Finally the colonel wields some power—

  But to his astonishment—and judging by the gasp from Colonel Thorne, to his surprise as well—Colonel Shin lifted the baby from his mother’s arms. Then he did something that made half of the officers in the room open their mouths in dismay: he rubbed noses with the infant.

  The tiny child stopped crying and stared at the strange large man holding him.

  Colonel
Shin nodded to the lieutenant. Reluctantly the young officer stood and took his wife by the hand. She went to protest to the colonel, but he just smiled and waved her off, then turned the baby so he wouldn’t see his parents walk to the dance floor of the Grand Hall.

  Colonel Shin carried the baby, still staring transfixed at him, over to a set of unoccupied chairs in a quiet corner by the open doorway to the terrace.

  Nearly all of the eyes in the Grand Hall stared at him and conversations quieted. Several other people from adjoining rooms opened for the evening came to see what was causing the silent commotion. Even a few of the couples dancing strained their necks for a glimpse.

  Colonel Shin was oblivious to it all. He sat with the baby on his lap and watched as he bat clumsily at the colonel’s medals. Shin removed the largest, shiniest medal, secured the pin in the back, and handed it to the little boy.

  Gadiman and Thorne stood speechlessly. Finally Thorne choked out, “The Medal of Valor! He was the youngest recipient, and now that baby’s drooling on the Medal of Valor!”

  General Aldwyn Cush came up behind the two men and put his arms on both of their shoulders. With a laugh he said, “I think Colonel Shin is looking forward to becoming a grandfather, wouldn’t you say?” He squeezed his son-in-law’s shoulder meaningfully. “I think we can help him out. Don’t you, Qayin?”

  Mrs. Versula Thorne sidled up to them and took her husband’s arm. “Goodness, Qayin, look at Perrin. That baby is drooling all over—”

  “The Medal of Valor!” Thorne said again, this time with contempt.

  Mrs. Thorne shook her head. “What do they do up there in Edge?” she said in silky tones. “Soldiers taking care of babies?”

  “Well, if what Miss Jaytsy said at The Dinner is to be believed,” Cush said, “Uncle Shem?”

  Mrs. Thorne nodded once. “Yes, I caught that too. A master sergeant baby tender. You would think Perrin’s son would be more eager to join the army with an upbringing like that.”

  The four of them, along with most of the guests in the Grand Hall and on the staircase who weren’t dancing, watched as the colonel beckoned to his son. He spoke to him for a moment, then the small teenage boy nodded and went to the food tables against the opposite wall.

  He took a plate and eyed the contents of the leftovers table thoughtfully, taking items from different trays. His mother, still keeping watch, pointed out a few suggestions which her son added to the plate. The song ended and the lieutenant and his wife hurried back over to the colonel who was completely absorbed in holding their little boy and squeezing his chubby brown cheeks. Their baby, still content with gumming the medal, didn’t notice their arrival. The colonel gestured for them to go back to the dance floor.

  The Nelts looked at each other hesitantly then went to the floor, casting backward glances at their son on the colonel’s lap.

  Mrs. Cush joined her husband, daughter, son-in-law, and Gadiman. “Why, isn’t that charming!” she gushed when she saw Colonel Shin smiling down at the baby now leaning against his chest. “So that must’ve been his plan. Joriana said he refused to learn to dance and insisted he’d find another way to prove he was civilized.”

  General Cush chuckled, but Colonel Thorne gave her a disagreeing look. Versula Thorne simply raised a precisely plucked eyebrow.

  But Gadiman sneered. This behavior was most unexpected, and most undignified. He’d heard of people in the north “going local,” and now he had a perfect example in front of him. This was a mental condition Dr. Brisack should’ve been watching, not Gadiman.

  The Shins’ son had now returned and his father was pointing to various foods, shaking his head at some and nodding to others. From a distance it seemed as if they decided to give the baby a hard cracker. The baby grabbed it eagerly, then alternated between gumming the medal and chewing on the cracker. Colonel Shin grinned at the baby and finally raised his head to see the looks of amazement of his guests. His grin hardened as he eyed the crowd.

  Everyone immediately turned back to their conversations, stealing only occasional glances of the colonel and the baby. It wasn’t difficult to imagine what they were talking about.

  But Gadiman continued to watch Colonel Shin. Relf Shin wanted him to become the High General of Idumea? How could a decorated nursemaid hope to achieve High General?

  Gadiman noticed Mrs. Shin approach her husband and hold out her hands to take the baby.

  “Finally!” Thorne muttered. “Enough of that behavior.”

  But Colonel Shin shook his head and gestured to his wife to come closer. She bent down and he whispered something in her ear that was amusing enough that she laughed and he winked at her. She kissed him on the head and left.

  “Unbelievable!” Thorne hissed to Gadiman. “How long is he going to make a fool of himself?”

  A colonel from another village hesitantly approached Shin. He looked up from the baby, smiled, and patted the chair next to him. The colonel sat cautiously and Shin said something to him that made the colonel chuckle. He put a shielding hand over the medals on his uniform and shook his head.

  Gadiman leaned against the wall to watch the colonels talk. The Thornes and Cushes were now engaged in a conversation with the Administrator of Science, giving Gadiman time to focus on Colonel Shin.

  Shin seemed to keep one eye on his visitor and the other on the baby, occasionally running his hand over the child’s fuzzy black hair. After a few minutes the visiting colonel patted Shin on the back and left him. Doctor Brisack was waiting for the empty chair and approached.

  At last, Gadiman thought to himself. Evaluate the instability of the man, and let me go home to a quiet evening—

  But the inane doctor was all smiles, and Gadiman slouched against the stucco wall discouraged because his night wasn’t about to get any shorter.

  Shin nodded to the chair next to him and the Administrator of Family Life happily sat to chat. For two more songs, Colonel Shin hosted guests in that manner while entertaining the baby.

  Gadiman failed to see what he should be picking up from this, except that the young couple had a free baby tender.

  Most of the guests in the room had become accustomed to the scene playing out in the corner, but when the baby began to wail while the colonel spoke to an elderly widow, every eye looked at the colonel while trying to appear not to do so. He seemed concerned as he stood the baby on his lap. The infant’s chubby legs couldn’t yet fully support him, but the colonel looked into his hollering mouth. The musicians were playing an exceptionally loud melody, so that the baby’s parents didn’t hear the cries.

  The colonel sat the baby back down on his lap, then did something that made even the most battle-hardened soldiers cringe—he deliberately put his thumb in the baby’s mouth and rubbed his lower gum. The baby grabbed his hand and chomped down, but the colonel only winced a smile and nodded.

  Gadiman was completely at a loss for an explanation. “Disgusting!”

  The elderly woman patted the colonel on the arm with an approving smile and shuffled off. The baby leaned against Colonel Shin as he stood up, now with his knuckle in the baby’s mouth. The musicians began a slower song, and the colonel repositioned the baby and began to rock.

  Gadiman’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He became even more perplexed when Joriana Shin came to speak to the colonel and started swaying in time with her son, without a baby in her arms. She left to have a word with the ensemble’s conductor who nodded toward the colonel.

  More people approached Colonel Shin with a brief comment or a lengthy discussion. He frequently paused in his conversations to reposition the baby or his finger. By the end of the second soothing piece, which the musicians seemed to play specifically for the colonel, the baby was asleep.

  The young lieutenant and his wife came up to the colonel, flabbergasted. The mother held out her arms but the colonel shook his head, held the baby closer, and gave her a threatening look. She beamed at him, took her husband’s willing arm, and heade
d back out to the dance floor.

  Gadiman didn’t understand any of it. But now he knew the Shin family was odder than he could have imagined.

  ---

  For the next two hours Colonel Shin, Baby Tender of The Dinner, entertained his guests over the sleeping infant cradled in his brawny arms.

  Mahrree looked over at him frequently and grinned. He always loved babies. As handsome as he was wielding his sword, she always thought he looked even better snuggling a child.

  By the time the tired musicians ended for the evening, Lieutenant and Mrs. Nelt, looking exhausted themselves, finally relieved the colonel. Mahrree watched from a non-interfering distance as Perrin gingerly placed their sleeping son in his mother’s arms and stroked the curly black hair on his head.

  “Once he cuts that tooth, he’ll be a different baby. Until the next one starts to emerge. But he’s a good little boy. Enjoy him. Babies tend to grow up.”

  The baby’s mother tiptoed to kiss the colonel on the cheek.

  Perrin smiled at her, a bit bashfully, which Mahrree thought was completely adorable.

  “Sometimes it just takes an experienced set of arms,” he told Mrs. Nelt. “Years ago in the village green an elderly grandfather took a few minutes to calm down our infant son for us. I’ve never forgotten him and always wanted to repay that service. Now remember, Lieutenant,” Perrin said in a playfully stern tone to the young husband, “take her out of the house every few weeks. You both need the time alone. And since I’ll be leaving soon, I’m afraid you’ll have to find a new baby tender.”

  The lieutenant chuckled. “Or maybe just get transferred to Edge?”

  “Not a bad idea! I could use a tactful scribe to keep me out of trouble.” He saluted the young family away.

  Mahrree finally found her moment to join her husband now that most of the guests were leaving. It was the first time she dared approach him.

  During the dance he’d been flanked by officers and Administrators who so intimidated Mahrree that she kept to the food tables, signaling occasionally to the servants to fill them again. They really didn’t need her directions, but she needed something to do where no one of importance would expect anything significant of her.

  She also kept a close eye on her daughter who danced at least five times with Lieutenant Thorne. Watching Jaytsy was supposed to have been her father’s task, but it seemed everyone in Idumea wanted a few moments with Perrin Shin.

  Mahrree had been completely unprepared for that. She’d expected the two of them would huddle in a corner all evening and make impolite comments about the clothing they saw. She thought she’d only have to endure The Dinner alone, seated a little ways down the table from him.

  But that was only the beginning of Colonel Shin, Most Popular Man at The Dinner. At the head of the three dinner tables sat the most powerful men of the evening: General Shin at one, General Cush at another, and Perrin uncomfortably at the third, smiling tightly at the guests who looked to him to begin the eating and conversation.

  To her surprise, Mahrree had been seated next to the Administrator of Science who thought nothing much of a little woman from Edge, and engaged in only the briefest of conversations with her.

  Not that she didn’t try to be polite to the man who had decided on several occasions that it was too dangerous to send expeditions to Terryp’s ruins. She was quite cordial when she asked if he’d be sending anyone north to research the devastation of the land tremors.

  Hutchins merely curled a lip and said, “Enough destruction here to investigate.”

  When she told him Deceit had been smoking, and hinted that may be strong evidence that perhaps the volcano was connected to the tremors, his scowl became more pronounced and he said, “So have suggested others with more knowledge.”

  Then, after great consideration as to the potential harm of the question, and concluding that Hutchins wouldn’t be able to do much with it, she suggested, “Terryp, in his travels many years ago to the eastern ruins, found carvings describing what happens when a volcano erupts. Perhaps it may be a good idea to send a team in search of those etchings that told the history of Deceit?”

  Hutchins only stared at her as if she were a pile of rocks that was growing duller by the minute—or maybe a pile of rocks would have been more intriguing to him—and eventually said, “Pass the butter, Mrs. Shin.”

  And that was the extent of Mahrree’s dinner conversation.

  Across the table Jaytsy fared better, seated between two older women, and far away from any handsome young men. Mahrree was sure Perrin had something to do with that.

  Peto was next to his grandmother at the table headed by General Shin, who managed the night without pillows propping him up. A few times Mahrree was able to glimpse Peto between the heads of other guests, and saw his grandmother elbowing him to eat slower and less noisily.

  The meal seemed to take all night, but it was likely only an hour. At least she could watch her husband since few conversations were sent her way. He soon relaxed in his position and was easily addressing everyone within the sound of his voice. There was decidedly more laughter from their table than from the other two, especially when Perrin engaged in good-natured arguments with Jaytsy, which delighted everyone around.

  Jaytsy really was quite radiant that night, Mahrree was reluctant to admit as she watched her daughter who seemed much older than barely fifteen. There was something in her eyes, exactly like her father’s. How they could be so dark but sparkle so bright, Mahrree would never understand. She was far more poised than Mahrree expected, and Mahrree wished she had some of that confidence herself. When Jaytsy got up, at her grandfather’s insistence, to explain to everyone about the Strongest Soldier Race, Mahrree was in awe. Jaytsy commanded the room—and their laughter—with the kind of ease Mahrree used to pretend for herself. If only debating were still allowed, Jaytsy would have been astonishing on the platform in front of the village, just as her father had been.

  So for most of The Dinner Mahrree sat in silence, trying bits of food here and there, and not really tasting any of the fantastic dishes set before her. The fact that she was seated next to an actual Administrator made her perspire, but she soon realize Relf was right; none of the Administrators were really interested in her, but in evaluating the health of High General Shin. Administrator Hutchins kept leaning toward Mahrree so as to have a better view of Relf. At one point Mahrree found herself staring at the man’s balding head instead of the roasted lamb on her plate, and privately mused how similar the two appeared.

  Fortunately High General Shin was as robust as ever, eating well and talking loudly. Joriana beamed at her husband, relieved and triumphant that another Dinner was moving along remarkably well. Mahrree was happy for them both, but frequently checked the sand clock on the mantle over the fireplace to see just how much longer this was going to take.

  A few times Perrin caught her eye during dinner as if plotting a way to get her to speak, but she’d barely shake her head and beg him with her eyes to not say anything to her. So he’d direct his conversations elsewhere while Mahrree just watched him and marveled.

  Everyone seemed to enjoy lingering at the tables and eating from the trays of extraordinary dishes that were replaced with precise regularity by the staff Joriana had hired. Twenty servers hovered near each table ready to take platters emptying with food only to replace them with something even more delectable.

  Mahrree wished she could’ve joined them. She would’ve preferred to wash the mountains of dishes and chat with the workers rather than smile stiffly at people who regarded her with expressions that said, You really don’t belong here, dear.

  She didn’t belong in the kitchen, either. She’d tried, though.

  When everyone got up from the tables and wandered outside to enjoy the warm evening, a small corps of soldiers marched in and moved the chairs to the sides of the hallway while servants swifted away the dishes and linens. That’s when Mahrree picked up a platter and carr
ied it to the kitchen, fully intending to find an apron to make herself useful.

  “Oh, no you don’t, ma’am!” an older woman her mother’s age chided. “You’re a host. The host takes care of her guests, not the dishes.”

  “You don’t understand—my mother-in-law is the host. I’m just . . . helping,” which was her original excuse for coming to Idumea.

  “Well, I don’t want you!” the woman declared. “See that list? For the past eighteen years I’ve been perfecting it. Each of the seventy-three servants hired for this evening has a specific job on that list, and will be paid for those jobs. You take any of their work, they won’t be pleased with you. And neither will Mrs. Joriana Shin. Because no one—”

  Mahrree repeated it with her. “—wants to disappoint Joriana Shin. I know,” she sighed. The woman took her firmly by the shoulders, spun her, and sent her out the door.

  Already the soldiers had removed the borrowed tables to wagons waiting to convey them back to the garrison. The Great Hall was transformed almost instantly, and opened for dancing as the guests drifted back in to the sounds of the musicians tuning their instruments.

  So Mahrree stood next to the two mansion tables pushed to the side of the Hall, as if it were her duty to occupy that space and oversee the consumption of the leftovers and desserts waiting on them.

  From there she watched her husband pace nervously for the first three songs, smiling tensely, and nodding here and there. While a small part of her wanted to try whirling around the floor in his arms, she knew he’d then be obliged to hold other women in his arms, and that thought made her fists clench. She hoped that wedging herself between the tables signaled she wasn’t a part of the dancing either. The last thing she wanted was the arm of an Administrator around her.

  A few times during those first songs Perrin snagged equally nervous enlisted men and paired them up with shyly waiting young women. But the rest of the time he desperately looked for ways to be needed elsewhere so that he wouldn’t be obligated to ask anyone to dance.

  Then he stole that baby, and everything changed.

  “Does everyone in the world know Perrin Shin?” she murmured to herself when she realized there was a line of a dozen people waiting to talk to him. And for each person who came up to him, a light of recognition flashed in his eyes, and he greeted yet another person he knew long ago.

  It was unsettling to realize he had a life she knew nothing about. Already there had been so many secrets revealed about his past, and now she felt a bit guilty for underestimating his importance all these years. Apparently he was much more than merely the commander of the fort in the next-to-smallest village in the world, as he always reminded her. His influence and changes to the army over the years had benefited the entire world, and it seemed everyone wanted to shake the hand—or at least pat the back since the hands were occupied—of the officer who had improved the world’s ability to deal with its most persistent enemy. Maybe it was because everyone also saw him as the future High General of the world.

  Mahrree’s mouth went dry whenever that thought strayed into her mind. She was a very ill fit for such a man. But she knew that, at some point in the evening, she’d have to stand next to him. Until then, no one paid her any attention. Halfway through the dancing she noticed that a silver tray of tiny tarts from Gizzada’s matched her dress. So, hoping to feel a connection to him and his back restaurant, she held it up for guests. Not one person looked her in the eyes as they took the tarts. She was little more than another piece of furniture, which was just fine by her.

  But now that the dancing was over and guests were slowly leaving, Mahrree edged her way over to her husband. His eyes glowed with that familiar spark, because he had no idea how inadequate she was for him, and she loved him all the more for that.

  She smiled broadly at him. “I see your plan failed. Holding a baby didn’t keep everyone away! But at least the wives think you’re civilized.”

  He didn’t get a chance to answer, because Mahrree noticed more people were approaching to speak to Colonel Shin, and when she recognized a few of them, she steeled herself in preparation.

  Coming with General Cush and his wife was Colonel Qayin Thorne and a tall, beautiful woman who, Mahrree noticed, had been eyeing Perrin all evening. Then again, everyone had been eyeing Perrin all evening.

  But her, just a bit more so.

  Behind them was another approaching couple, but Mahrree didn’t pay too much attention because the willowy blonde was headed straight for Perrin. Mahrree took a small step closer to her husband as the stunning woman stopped right in front of him.

  He blinked at her without recognition, then his eyes grew large. “Versula!”

  She smiled coyly and dragged her long sleek finger across the faded scar on his forehead. “I see you still have a way to remember me.”

  “Every time I see my reflection,” Perrin chuckled with his teeth clenched.

  “I think about that often,” Versula Thorne said as if speaking in code. “And wonder.”

  Mahrree squinted ever so subtly. Versula Cush Thorne also regarded Mahrree as just a piece of furniture, but this time that bothered her.

  Colonel Thorne, standing next to his wife, nodded curtly to Perrin. “Colonel,” was all he said in greeting. He ignored Mahrree, who apparently wasn’t a threat.

  Perrin nodded back. “Colonel Thorne.” He reached out and pulled Mahrree close to his side. “Colonel, Mrs. Thorne—may I present my wife, Mahrree.”

  Mahrree looked up into the perfectly carved face of Mrs. Thorne and felt Edgier than she had all night.

  Versula Thorne, who finally acknowledged Mahrree with a slight smile, was even more exquisitely Idumeaic than Joriana. Her dress of light blue silk clearly had not heard of Perrin’s coverage specifications. Tightly wrapped around her girlish torso and no higher, the dress left her creamy shoulders and arms completely exposed, along with a generous dose of cleavage. Most of the women as The Dinner seemed to be firm believers in cleavage, Mahrree couldn’t help but notice. Versula’s blond hair was similarly wrapped, as if the entire of her had been put together by a highly concentrated tornado.

  Mahrree felt wholly out of place in the small crowd of people that now clustered around them.

  Mrs. Thorne was the definition of sophistication, and her husband, with his sharply defined features and penetrating stare solely focused on Perrin, was as imposing as General Shin used to be to her.

  Cush, with his substantial girth, could have been two men, especially with the authority with which everyone regarded him, and his wife had nearly caught up to him in size and influence.

  Mahrree was used to the power that accompanied her in-laws, but she began to feel as if she were suffocating. Who was she compared to this group of important people? And there were even more to meet, standing behind them, and not a table with food nearby for her to use as a shield.

  Mahrree sucked down her feelings of inadequacy and smiled at Mrs. Thorne. “It’s wonderful to meet you! I’ve heard a few stories since I’ve been here.”

  “I’m sure you have,” Mrs. Thorne said pleasantly enough, her voice even smoother than her gown. She bobbed her head toward Perrin, “but not from him. You have a very charming daughter. She’s turned a few heads this evening.”

  Perrin glanced over to the leftover food tables and saw Jaytsy still talking with two young officers and two sons of officers, each several years older than her. She laughed at something, and the young men smiled in approval.

  Perrin did not. He made a move to step away, but Mahrree caught his arm.

  “She’s fine,” Mahrree whispered.

  Perrin took a deep breath and looked at Versula with an expression Mahrree couldn’t interpret.

  “Don’t worry, Perrin,” she simpered. “My Lemuel’s armed. He knows how to take care of a young woman.”

  Perrin looked again at the little group and saw one of the young officers was Lemuel Thorne. Mahrree noticed Perrin’s boot l
icker didn’t seem as amused as the other three young men, but sat nearby on a chair by the table picking at the remains of a pheasant while studying Jaytsy.

  Versula Thorne pulled Perrin’s attention away from them by saying, in a tone as rich as cream, “Quite a show you put on with that baby.”

  Perrin turned back to her again, startled as if at first not understanding what she said. “Oh, oh, that. I was just looking for a friendly face, someone who wouldn’t expect me to dazzle them with anything witty.” He smiled at Mahrree. Then he pulled her even closer to him.

  Mahrree hid a smirk. She suspected there were a few more stories she needed to hear. Versula Cush Thorne still made him nervous, and she didn’t have a stick in either hand.

  “Well, Perrin, with any luck, you can be holding another baby in just a couple of years.” Mrs. Thorne smiled, watching closely for his response.

  Perrin’s face was the very definition of bewilderment.

  “Your daughter? She could give you your own grandchild in a couple of years.”

  “Jaytsy?” Perrin said so loudly that, across the Great Hall, she stopped talking and looked over at him. She tilted her head as if asking what he wanted, and he waved her off.

  Mrs. Thorne laughed in a manner that suggested she’d practiced it to be just the right pitch, length, and tremor. “Yes, of course! Goodness, Perrin, scare the poor thing.”

  “We were nearly twice her age when she was born,” Perrin said, squeezing Mahrree’s shoulders and jostling her a bit in his earnestness.

  Mahrree chuckled stiffly. “I don’t think we’re ready for her to do anything so, so grown up. Sometimes I think we’re not really grown up yet!”

  Perrin nodded at that.

  “There’s nothing wrong with having your child early and getting on with life,” Versula said. “I haven’t missed out on anything. Just because Perrin was exceptionally slow to get around to parenthood doesn’t mean your children will be.”

  Perrin and Mahrree looked at each other, the thought never having occurred to them before.

  “Come now,” said Mrs. Cush, her several chins jiggling. “Look at them over there. You come back to Idumea and that sweet little thing will have her pick of husbands! And I can think of a perfect pick already,” she giggled.

  “Now, Mother,” Versula said reprovingly, “it’s not our place to interfere. To suggest and give ideas, yes, but full-out interference? No!” The women laughed together in a practiced chorus, but Mahrree just put on a polite smile.

  Perrin let out a small groan only his wife heard and released his hold on her. “If you’ll excuse me ladies, gentlemen, I’ve yet to meet a few people tonight.”

  He strode to the food table as the Cush women giggled in unison. The four young men quickly got to their feet and faced the colonel. Annoyed, Jaytsy put her hands on her hips.

  General Cush chuckled. “Mahrree, think you should go rescue those poor boys? If anyone can handle young men, I understand it’s you.”

  Mahrree shook her head. “This is a father’s domain, General. Perrin has it well in hand.”

  They were out of earshot, but Perrin seemed to be introducing himself. As he shook the hand of one boy, his left hand caught another by the shoulder as the young man tried to make a less-than-subtle exit. Jaytsy was insulted, embarrassed, and furious.

  Lemuel Thorne had jumped from his chair and stood at attention, and the other young officer, still in the clutches of the colonel, realized too late that he should’ve done the same thing.

  Colonel Thorne stepped away from his wife and in-laws to watch his son. He nodded slightly to Lemuel and his son returned it. Perrin was too busy trying to meet the third boy while holding on to the other two to notice the Thornes’ silent communication. But Mahrree saw it and wondered what the message may have been.

  She was aware of the other couple nearing as she watched her husband, but didn’t think much of them until she heard, “Mrs. Shin, I’m Doctor Brisack, Administrator of Family Life.”

  Every muscle in Mahrree’s body tensed.

  “I spent a most entertaining afternoon with your husband last week, and of course saw you when we presented you with that certificate, but I haven’t yet had the pleasure of formally meeting you.”

  Mahrree forced her attention away from her husband’s show and turned, with her Dinner smile in place.

  She knew who this was: the doctor who perfected The Drink. The man who improved the means to deny her and thousands of other women a dozen children.

  She analyzed him, expecting to see a monster, but his pale blue eyes were gentle, and the wrinkles around them reminded her of Hogal Densal. Something in his expression twinkled with a genuinely pleasant demeanor.

  “And this is my wife,” he added as an afterthought, not bothering to mention her name. “Mrs. Shin, we were wondering, why did General Cush call you an authority on young men?”

  His wife had a sweet smile on her wrinkling face. “I’m having difficulty picturing it, I must admit.”

  They weren’t what Mahrree expected at all. They could have been Hogal and Tabbit Densal’s friends in another time and place. “I’m not a real authority, sir. But I teach some of the troubled teenage boys in Edge,” she explained. “It seems I’m responsible for them during the day, and the colonel is responsible for them in the evening and night. We have a bit of a theft problem.”

  The Administrator nodded sadly. “As do we.”

  His wife elbowed him. “Maybe the Shins could help write up your new parenting guide, after the emergency guide is completed.”

  Administrator Brisack nodded again, thoughtfully. “Well, I’ve only asked doctors for their input, but the Shins might have some interesting tips.”

  “A guide?” Mahrree asked.

  “We seem to have a whole new generation of parents who know nothing of parenting,” Doctor Brisack said, his voice full of concern. “Since we have only one or two children—”

  Whose fault is that? Mahrree thought bitterly. She was getting better as saying these things in her head and trapping them there. She couldn’t remember one potentially libelous thing she had said all night, and she wasn’t about to start now that it was ending.

  Strangely, she began to feel calmer. This man didn’t invent The Drink. He just made is safer and less painful. He wasn’t the mastermind behind the idea. But still, he contributed—

  Mahrree heard him continue.

  “—then don’t see grandchildren for another twenty to thirty years, we older generations don’t seem to remember any wisdom to pass down from our parenting days.”

  “The lieutenant’s wife—the mother of that baby Perrin held this evening—she didn’t seem to know anything about cutting teeth,” Mahrree told him. “I learned that from the mothers who came to visit me right after I had my babies. And I learned everything else on Holy Days after the meetings. We shared midday meals, and everyone sat around and talked about parenting successes and disasters.” Her voice faded as she felt a sudden sting of homesickness. Tonight Edge seemed a thousand miles away, and a hundred years ago, and she yearned to be there again right now.

  The Administrator nodded at her with only partial understanding. “Whatever method you have in Edge for communicating how to parent, we no longer have in Idumea.”

  “And not so much in Edge anymore, either,” Mahrree said, surprised at how tears were springing to her eyes. She fought them down.

  “That’s why we need a guide,” Doctor Brisack said. “I’ve been—”

  Giggles from Mrs. Thorne and the Cushes drew their attention. They were fully involved in watching Perrin sit down the boys to give them an impromptu speech. None of them looked too happy about it, but none were about to walk out on the colonel.

  Jaytsy had stormed off to appeal to her grandmother, who was gently pushing her aside to speak to another woman. General Shin sat on the sofa in conversation with an older man by the front door, glancing periodically over at his son with a wry smil
e. Colonel Thorne continued to observe Lemuel’s every movement, most likely to give his son a review later.

  Perrin was now making large gesturing movements. One looked suspiciously like a vicious cutting motion which made all four young men flinch in unison. Mrs. Thorne and the Cushes tried to suppress laughter as each of the wide-eyed young men quickly shook their heads at whatever Colonel Shin had just told them, and their mouths all said, “No, sir!”

  Brisack chuckled. “Now he’s surprising me at every turn,” he muttered under his breath. In a louder voice, he said to Mahrree, “I realize you’re very busy, but perhaps it’s not such a bad idea. If you and the colonel remember any of that great advice you learned, could you write it up and send it to me some time? We’re seasons away from anything ready for distributing, but—”

  “We’d be happy to help, Dr. Brisack,” Mahrree told him, wondering what was ‘surprising’ the doctor about her husband. “Curious, though, that you’d assume that doctors are the best authorities on child rearing. Their perceptions would likely be only medical, maybe developmental, but certainly not emotional. Unless you live day in and day out with a child, you simply wouldn’t know. I’d assume the best way to learn how to handle a two-year-old is to ask the parents of a three-year-old.”

  Mrs. Brisack nudged her husband in the ribs, likely because she’d suggested the same thing.

  But if her husband noticed, he didn’t indicate it. Instead, he looked at Mahrree with an earnestness that she could only have labeled as adoration, although that was ridiculous. Why would an old Administrator regard her in such an inappropriate way?

  Unsettled by Brisack’s odd reaction, she continued on, unthinkingly. “I must admit I’m sad that such information no longer comes from families and congregations, but has to come instead from the government.”

  She should’ve recognized right then that what she said was potentially libelous, but her mind had been in another direction and not in step with her words. And she’d been doing so well that evening, too . . .

  “And what’s wrong with the government giving direction on families?” a loud voice rose up behind Mahrree.

  She held her chest as she turned around. A tall man with slicked dark hair, weasel-like eyes and a face in a fixed scowl stared hard at her.

  Administrator Brisack sighed. “I heard you were expected to be here tonight, but I hadn’t seen you anywhere. The Chairman will be pleased to hear you made it after all. Mrs. Shin, may I present Mr. Gadiman.”

  Mahrree, taken aback by the man’s sudden appearance, didn’t fully hear his name as she dutifully went to take his hand. Perrin, returning from his lecture, must have seen her expression when Doctor Brisack finished the introduction.

  “—Administrator of Loyalty.”

  She heard that part. The polite smile Mahrree had practiced all night now froze in terror on her face.

  Administrator of Loyalty.

  The most formidable man in the world, standing right in front of her, and grasping her fingers.

  Gadiman separated his lips in an awkward snarl that was probably intended to be a smile.

  In just a fraction of a second Colonel Shin stepped between Gadiman and Mahrree, and somehow managed to slip his hand into Gadiman’s instead.

  “We haven’t been formally introduced. I’m Colonel Perrin Shin, and I’m happy you were able to make it tonight.” It was fortunate that he’d practiced that line over three hundred times, because now it actually sounded natural.

  Mahrree found herself staring thankfully at the back of her husband and wondered if anyone would notice her slinking away. She took a step back right into Mrs. Brisack.

  Startled, she spun around to hear, “As my husband was saying, Mrs. Shin, the idea would be to distribute this information as soon as babies are delivered, to help the new parents know what to anticipate in the future.”

  Mahrree stared at the woman for a moment, trying to regain her composure. She was vaguely aware that Perrin was talking to Gadiman about something trivial as a diversion. As the words from Mrs. Brisack settled on her brain, Mahrree nodded and something came out of her mouth that she hoped later made sense.

  “Yes, yes, good idea. Maybe even before the babies are born, to give parents something to read in those dull weeks before the baby comes. There’s little time for reading afterward. Perhaps the midwives could give some information too, for what to expect in birthing.”

  Administrator Brisack smiled. “Already interviewing some. I’m even considering having government-certified midwives, as we do with teachers, to make sure all are giving the same information.”

  Mahrree’s mind was still on the man behind her, whose presence made her forehead bead with sweat. “As long as it’s the very best information, that should be a good idea,” she said hesitantly.

  A swift movement to the side of her caused her to jump. “And what do you mean by that, Mrs. Shin? The very best information?” Gadiman asked severely.

  Mahrree’s eyes widened and she suddenly understood what a worm feels like when it stares up at a bird. For some reason she’d always thought a man like Gadiman in the position he held would be subtle, maybe even terrifyingly calm. But he was a starving gull, squawking and demanding.

  Instinctively she was struck with the desire to kick it away, but instead she said sweetly, “I mean nothing at all, sir. I have every confidence in the good doctor that he’ll do an excellent job.” Keep the rest of the words in your head, she chanted to herself. Keep the rest of the words in your head.

  Gadiman’s mouth twitched, as if he was waiting for something more. Perrin moved behind his wife and put a protective hand on her shoulder. She waited to feel his finger in her back.

  “Is that all you have to say?” Gadiman probed.

  Perrin squeezed his wife’s shoulder, but she needed no guidance tonight, especially since she remembered her father-in-law’s advice.

  “Yes Administrator, I believe that’s about all I have to say. I’m rather tired from talking all night! But did you get anything to eat, Mr. Gadiman? There are still quite a few selections on the table over there. May I help you get a plate?”

  Gadiman’s jaw shifted. “No, thank you. I’ve had enough. It was—” He visibly struggled to find a suitable word. “—nice to meet you this evening. Good night.” He stepped away toward the front doors, nodded brusquely to the High General, and left.

  When Mahrree finally breathed out, it was louder than she intended.

  “Do you know much about dogs, Mrs. Shin?” Doctor Brisack asked her, pulling her eyes away from the door.

  She’d completely forgotten that another Administrator was standing next to her, but there was nothing threatening in his expression. Quite the contrary; he seemed to be as relieved as she was that Gadiman was gone.

  “Unfortunately, yes,” she said, surprised at the change of topic.

  Brisack smiled kindly at her. “Some dogs are all bark and snarl, and you put up with it because, well, there has to be a dog somewhere,” he said meaningfully.

  Mahrree smiled. Brisack was certainly worth more than a slip of silver. She likely misread his earlier expression.

  “You don’t like dogs, Administrator?” Perrin asked.

  Doctor Brisack winced. “Not since my wife had this little snippy thing—”

  “She was a wonderful animal!” Mrs. Brisack interrupted. “She just hated you!”

  Mahrree, grateful for the lighter moment, laughed at the good-natured sneer Doctor Brisack sent his wife. “I’m a cat person myself,” she said, “but my husband isn’t.”

  The Administrator cringed. “Oh, the only thing worse than a dog is a cat! Most temperamental, unpredictable animals in the world. Now, the kind of animal to have around is a fish. Preferably one you pull out of the river and fry along the bank.”

  Everyone laughed, and Mahrree marveled that she was actually enjoying the company of an Administrator.

  “You’d enjoy the fishing in Edge, Brisa
ck,” Perrin told him. “By the beginning of the Harvest Season, you can feed an entire family for two days on just one fish. The warm waters from the forest grow them to the size of an average dog.”

  “Spoken like someone who’s spent time in the rivers, I see,” Dr. Brisack chuckled.

  “Come up some time,” Perrin said, “and I’ll show you my son and mine’s favorite spot.”

  Brisack smiled at the invitation. “I’ve been meaning to get up there. Several of us doctors who used to work with the university are doing experiments with the products from the mud volcanoes. While many are lethal, some combinations are proving to have greater medical uses than we ever realized. I wanted to get some new specimens in large amounts, especially sulfur, and no area is more active than the forests near Edge. Except for now maybe Moorland,” he added thoughtfully. “Might as well bring my fishing pole, too!”

  A quick whistle from the front door turned Perrin around, and his father motioned for him to join him. Standing next to his sofa was a thick-set man that appeared to be made of one continuous muscle.

  “Excuse me, please, Doctor and Mrs. Brisack,” Perrin said to his guests. “It seems there’s someone else I haven’t met yet.”

  “Looks like the director of the kickball league,” Doctor Brisack told Mahrree as his wife drifted away to croon at an older woman she obviously was friends with. “Everyone wants to meet your husband, it seems.”

  “I suppose so.” Mahrree was about to make her excuses to the Administrator when he gently took her arm.

  “I wanted a moment with you, Mrs. Shin,” he said in hushed tones. “I couldn’t help notice that tonight you were . . . rather much quieter than last week.”

  She chuckled a bit uncertainly. “Oh, I just had nothing to—”

  “During dinner,” he interrupted, firming his grip on her, “you hardly said two words, and while I agree that the Administrator of Science is less interesting that the soil he collects, I would have expected you may have had something to say to him.”

  Mahrree blinked. “I, uh . . . You weren’t even at my table, Doctor Brisack.”

  “But I had a clear view of you from mine.” He looked deep into her eyes, searching for something. “I’m just concerned,” he said quietly, “that perhaps you were told to keep quiet tonight.”

  She was mystified. “By who?”

  “By someone who wasn’t too pleased with your performance in front of the Administrators the other morning. By someone who was jabbing your back so excessively that you likely bruised.”

  Mahrree’s mouth fell open in surprise. “How did you know about that?”

  “My life’s sole aim is to analyze the human condition, Mrs. Shin. I’m fascinated by pain, and watch for it in everyone I meet.” In a worried whisper he added, “Has he hurt you? Threatened you?”

  Mahrree’s shoulders sagged as she understood. “Doctor Brisack, no! My husband is the most wonderful man I could ever have hoped for.”

  Brisack wasn’t convinced. “Is he really, or has he conditioned you to believe that he is?”

  Mahrree watched her husband at the front door. He respectfully nodded to the kickball director and then, noticing one of his young audience members trying to sneak out the door behind him, abruptly turned to grab his hand and pump it more enthusiastically than necessary.

  Jaytsy put her hands on her hips again, and the young man sent only a fleeting glance at her before he rushed out the door.

  Mahrree noticed that Brisack was watching Perrin too, as if analyzing him.

  Suddenly Mahrree had an idea, something that could fix much of what she did last week. “Doctor Brisack, I realize you know nothing about my husband—”

  He grunted at that as if nothing could be further from the truth.

  “—but while he may appear to be a bear of a man, he’s truly gentle and loving. You saw him with that baby tonight. That wasn’t an act, Doctor; that’s how he genuinely is. Compassionate, and also very concerned with the human condition, in his own way. I’m reluctant to confess something so intimate, but I want to allay your concern: he quite adores me, and I him. What happened last week in front of the Administrators—that was more of a . . . a misunderstanding than anything else. We were both rather nervous to be there, as you can imagine, and since he was standing behind me, he didn’t hear clearly what I was saying. He misheard some things, and worried that some Administrators would mishear as well.” She looked into Doctor Brisack’s inquisitive gaze. “He just wanted to make sure I represented everything appropriately.”

  “But I heard he escorted you out rather hastily,” Brisack tried one more time.

  “He did,” Mahrree acknowledged, “but then we talked and I explained to him all that he misunderstood. Did you also hear that we walked home happily arm-in-arm?” she said in a teasing tone that turned accusatory. She wasn’t used to having so much of her personal life exposed. “Or did your ‘extra eyes’ leave us alone once they saw us hiding in the trees on the campus and kissing like lovesick college students?”

  Brisack blinked rapidly, taken aback. “Uh . . . I don’t exactly employ spies, Mrs. Shin,” he stammered. “I just wanted to make sure you’re all right.”

  She smiled at him in a mollifying manner. “I’m fine. And so is my husband. He’s a very passionate man, Doctor Brisack, and never does anything half-hearted. He’s wholly devoted to me and to Edge. In fact, I don’t think the villagers will ever realize just how much he loves them.”

  Brisack swallowed and nodded, surprised by Mahrree’s adamancy. “Of course, of course,” he said, then added, “He’s also married to a very passionate woman.”

  “Works nicely, we think,” she said and, hoping to put an end to the conversation that was growing increasingly uncomfortable, she used Relf’s tried and true diversionary tactic. “Would you like to take something home with you? As you can see, we have plenty of food left over—”

  Sensing their discussion was over, Brisack smiled thinly. “Actually, I was asked to bring back a slice of cake for Nicko Mal, which has already been set aside for me, but thank you anyway, Mrs. Shin.” His eyes darted to the side and noticed his wife approaching, as well as Perrin returning from saying goodbye to the kickball director. In a whisper Brisack said, “I see our lesser halves returning to us.”

  “What was that?” Mahrree asked, sure she didn’t hear him correctly. But Brisack had already put on a new, albeit pained, smile on his face for his wife.

  “Well Mrs. Shin,” Mrs. Brisack said pleasantly, “sorry to have left you, but I haven’t seen my friend there since she moved to Orchards, and I simply had to compliment her on the shoulder bag. Exquisite! It was to live for! So many jewels! Hint, hint,” she elbowed her husband again. “Did you see it, Mrs. Shin?’

  Something in Doctor Brisack’s smile turned brittle.

  Mahrree smiled pleasantly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t. I supposed I don’t have much of an eye for such things.”

  “Ah, well,” said Mrs. Brisack, patting her arm. “We’ll train you yet in what to notice. Lovely evening, dear. Wonderful to meet you, but it’s late and we must be going home.” To her husband she said, “Have you Nicko’s cake?”

  Doctor Brisack sighed and answered dully, “Waiting by the door.”

  Perrin, who had returned, shook Administrator Brisack’s hand. “Thank you for coming, and I mean it about that fishing trip.”

  Some distant light sparked on again in Brisack’s eyes. “I think I’d like that. Thank you both for a most entertaining evening.” He fixed his gaze so earnestly on Mahrree that she felt her insides squirm. But then he was off, pulled away by his wife as if he was an indolent school boy and she was his long-suffering teacher.

  Perrin put his arm around Mahrree again as the Brisacks made their way to the line of those waiting to say goodbye to Relf and Joriana, including the Cushes and Thornes who were in discussion with the Shins.

  Finally alone with her husband, Mahrree said. “Brisack seems to be a decent m
an. Although,” she added slowly, “he seemed a bit odd at times, as if he was doing more than just having a conversation, but also carrying on some kind of analysis which kept getting in the way. I felt like I was being evaluated.”

  Perrin shrugged. “Probably. I heard he has studies and research going on all the time. Now,” he turned to her, “you need to think carefully. Did you say anything, anything at all to anyone that might get back to Gadiman? I have no idea how long he was here or why.”

  “I don’t either!” Mahrree said in a panicky tone, remembering the scowling man’s face. She thought for a moment. “I did speak for a minute to the Administer of Science during dinner, and suggest that he send a group to the west to investigate the etchings about Mt. Deceit.” She cringed. Now that she thought about it, that was a rather forward thing to say.

  “And?” Perrin nudged her.

  “All he did was stare for a moment, then asked me to pass him the butter dish.”

  Perrin smiled partway. “Figures. What else? What did you say to Brisack when Gadiman was there?”

  “Just that we would help with ideas for their parenting guide,” she remembered. “And that I teach teenage boys. I think Gadiman may have heard all of that.”

  Perrin considered. “No, I think you were safe there as well. He seemed rather disappointed there was nothing else said, so I think you passed the test, Mrs. Shin. We can let you out in public! Now, I hate to ask this, but have you seen Peto lately?”

  “He found a few boys and went outside with his new kickball. I really don’t want to know the condition of his suit, but he seemed happy enough. Why?”

  Perrin nodded toward the door. “That was the director of kickball in Idumea my father wanted me to meet—Mr. Flamafoul.”

  “I’m beginning to smell something foul,” she murmured.

  “Apparently our son has ‘natural ball handling skills,’” Perrin said.

  Mahrree frowned. “But they don’t handle a ball in that game. They footle it.”

  Perrin sighed. “He spent the last hour in the back garden with Peto, tutoring him.” He looked significantly at Mahrree.

  She returned the look. “Why was he even here, may I ask? Could it be that your father invited him?”

  Perrin growled quietly under his breath. “Flamafoul told me boys can start playing for the professional teams at age eighteen.”

  “When they should be starting at the university,” Mahrree pointed out.

  “But many boys start training with the junior league here earlier, around age sixteen,” he emphasized. “Their families even move to Idumea to be closer to the trainers.”

  Now Mahrree growled. “And not too coincidentally, in two years our son will be sixteen.”

  “And should we happen to move here,” Perrin said in annoyed undertones, “Flamafoul would be most interested in seeing our son participate. Wants our whole family to be his guest in his reserved box at the arena next week for the opening matches. He wants to introduce Peto to the team.”

  “This is all your father’s doing, isn’t it?” Mahrree hissed. “He’s getting Peto to come here so you’ll have to follow. Ooh, and just this evening I was thinking how much I’ve grown to like Relf Shin!”

  Perrin chuckled mirthlessly. “They’ve been in Idumea too long. Underhandedness is rather a way of life here.”

  Mahrree caught Relf’s eye in the distance, and the High General had the decency to look a tad uncomfortable under her glare that said, I’m on to you, old man.

  “And I’m afraid Jaytsy’s already been won over to Idumea,” Mahrree murmured.

  “Nah, she’s not,” Perrin flimsily waved that away. “Nothing here to interest her . . .” His voice dropped off as he saw the Thornes take their turn to say good night to the Shins.

  Jaytsy stood next to her grandmother, beaming. Lemuel took her hand and kissed it good night.

  Perrin grumbled.

  Mahrree grumbled back.

  Versula waved a subtle farewell to them—more so to Perrin than Mahrree, she suspected—and Qayin Thorne tipped his cap which he had just put on to go out into the night. Perrin and Mahrree plastered on their Dinner smiles and waved back.

  Lemuel was saying something quietly to Jaytsy which required her to lean in very close to him. Whatever he whispered into her ear made her blush. She covered her mouth and giggled as he bowed slightly before following his parents out the door.

  Mahrree exhaled and felt her husband bristle next to her. “I have to admit, I’m not too keen about a match between those two right now,” she said in a low voice. “I just don’t like the parents interfering that way. My mother tried to get me involved with so many different men—”

  Perrin looked at her askance. “Really? Who?”

  “Oh, I don’t remember anymore. The point is, she’s just too young. I’ll see if I can find out from Jaytsy what she thinks of him. Maybe I’m worrying about nothing. But I still think something like this needs to be her choice, not the choice of her future in-laws.”

  Perrin went positively rigid next to Mahrree. “In-laws,” he sneered.

  She patted his arm. “Perrin, I know you’ve said this before, and even though it was an interesting evening, and I met some intriguing people, and the food was delicious, and the musicians exceptionally talented, and this dress feels amazing, and you look fantastic as usual, and our daughter had the time of her life as did, apparently, our son—it’s just that when I saw Jaytsy in the arms of all those young men, and now whispering with Lieutenant Lemuel Thorne, what I really want to say is—”

  “You hate Idumea?” he guessed.

  “Yes!”

  “That’s my wife!” he said, hugging her.

  When the last of the guests finally left, General Shin, looking pale and exhausted even though he’d been sitting on the sofa for the last several hours, said to his son, “I think you made an impression tonight, even if it was only with the women. I overheard many wives say to their husbands, ‘Why didn’t you ever hold the baby?’ There may be some men less than happy with you.”

  “The only thing that matters,” Perrin said to his father, “is if you are less than happy with me.”

  “Of course not, son,” Relf smiled. “Once again, you’ve exceeded my expectations. Now, had I known I could have held a baby to get out of dancing for all of these years, I would have done it, too. Someone would have had to show me which way was up, though.”

  “Now, High General,” Mahrree said sharply, her arms folded but her eyes throwing daggers, “what was this about a certain kickball director? Evaluating my son? For playing in Idumea?”

  Joriana sent Mahrree a look that claimed, I wasn’t part of this, while her husband solidly held Mahrree’s gaze.

  Relf cleared his throat and said, “I’m a bit peckish, Mahrree. Would you mind getting me a plate of something to snack on? There’s still quite a bit on the tables over there . . .”

  Chapter 17 ~ “What we need is someone who has a special talent.”