The Falcon in the Barn (Book 4 Forest at the Edge series) (70 page)

Perrin opened his eyes and braced himself,
suspecting what was coming next.

“
I’m still not happy with
you, you know,” she told him. “Why didn’t you let me see the map?
You could have got permission, I know it.”

He rolled on his side and supported his head
with his hand. “You would’ve had to come to my office.”

“
Yes, I do that all the
time.”

“
People would’ve seen
you.”

“
So?”

“
I have my pride to
maintain.”

She squinted at him. “What’s that supposed to
mean?”

“
Do you remember what
happened in Idumea on the campus when you saw that statue that was
‘made by the hands that shook the hand of Terryp’?”

She rolled on to her side and matched his
pose. “What’s your point?”

“
I don’t need any of my
officers or the expedition leaders seeing my wife fawn all over
some
copy
of Terryp’s ancient map. You would have started
drooling and crying over it at the same time, I’m sure of it.
That’s all I need to get around—the colonel’s wife in love with a
dead historian.”

Mahrree chuckled. “I’m not in love with
Terryp, I love the
idea
of Terryp. Of what he did. Surely
you understand the distinction. I’m completely in love with
you.”

He sighed skeptically. “So why are you still
pestering me about seeing the map?”

“
Because I love hearing you
sigh. Besides, are you sure it was a copy? I mean, their last
expert was you, after all.”

“
You doubt me?”

“
No, it’s just that you’re
not much of an expert, really.”

He shrugged. “I’m the only one they knew with
a collection of old maps. I compared the copy of the map to what I
have. While it was created on older parchment, the quality was the
same as the maps I have from 40 years ago. It couldn’t have been
130 years old. Besides, whoever sent that map would have been smart
enough to not send the Administrators the original. And the
Administrators knew it was a copy as well. That’s why they
organized the expedition to find head west so quickly. They knew
they couldn’t ignore it because other copies could be sent all over
the world until someone finally did something about them.”

Mahrree rolled on to her back and looked at
the ceiling. “I wonder who it was. I wonder what else they have!
And where did they get the map in the first place? It was supposed
to have been destroyed in that fire along with the family lines. Oh
Perrin, what else might have survived? And where was it? Where’s it
now
?”

“
Well, I found my maps at
the old garrison,” he offered. “My father said no one wanted them
since they were making new ones. I know the kings had kept some
documents there, near where my father had his storage
room.”

“
Hmm,” Mahrree mused. “If
he were still with us I would have guessed it was Relf. Maybe it
was a soldier, one that was going through the debris after the land
tremor. They pulled out all kinds of documents.”

“
I considered that too,”
Perrin nodded. “Seems most logical. Then again, someone could’ve
found it in an attic, or maybe it was held by someone who took it
before the king could destroy it. A servant, a soldier . . . maybe
a historian. Maybe their families held it all these years, passing
it down through the generations, waiting for someone to feel the
need to know what Terryp found. Who knows. Too many hands may have
held it in the past 130 years to track where it is now.”

“
But it gives me so much
hope! What else is hiding out there, waiting to be found?” She
sighed longingly. “I can’t believe Shem turned them down. If I were
single and 37, I would have jumped at the opportunity to go on the
expedition. Oh, if only I were a man!”

Perrin jabbed her in the ribs.

She turned to him.

He held up his hand in questioning.

She chuckled as she pushed it down. “You know
what I mean. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere than right by your
side, and as a woman. It’s just the idea of it all. And Shem said
no?”

“
He said he just didn’t
have the desire to go.”

“
How could he not want to
go?” she nearly wailed.

Perrin sighed again.

She looked at him again.

“
You’re the oddest woman
I’ve ever known,” he declared.

She laughed. “Why?”

“
How many
women—
girls
—had an old historian as their childhood hero? I
thought girls liked stories about the king’s daughter being rescued
by a captain or whatever.”

She rolled to face him again. “What’s to
admire about that? It was obvious none of the stories were true!
Those girls were so helpless. And the kings suddenly had
all
these daughters?”

“
Mahrree, you know as well
as I do the kings had children everywhere. Remember my parents’
mansion? The purpose of it?”

“
I mean aside from that,”
she waved off the memory that the High General’s mansion was built
to house King Oren’s mistress and his two illegitimate sons who
could never claim the throne. “Really, who would believe that some
Querul’s daughter—and no one ever knows if it was the First,
Second, Third, or Fourth’s—whose
golden hair
was too long
for her to run safely from the Guarders, would be rescued by a
captain on a large black horse who suddenly appeared at the right
time? And what does he do then? Any logical soldier would have
taken his long knife and cut off that stupid braid, but no. The
captain ties it carefully around her body, then lifts her on to her
horse while the Guarders watch in respect of the action, and then
he rides off with her?”

She rolled her eyes.

“
So stupid, even to a
seven-year-old. And the captains always have big black horses.” She
laughed. “Just like your new horse. Now, Colonel, why is
that?”

“
Gari Yordin knows I like
big black horses,” Perrin defended with a scoff. “It’s not like I’m
going to turn down a gift like that. He had it brought up from the
Stables at Pools two weeks before Jaytsy’s wedding, just waiting
for me to come down. Said the owner’s son Roak chose him especially
for me and accompanied him all the way there. All I sent him was
one short thank you letter, and Roak chooses for me the strongest,
fastest horse ever bred. How am I supposed to say no to all that
planning and effort? Besides, Clark is the best animal I’ve ever
had.”

“
And what’s with that name?
Clark
. That’s not a proper name.”

“
Better than his mother’s
name—Pusheron. Seems that mare could continue for a distance and at
a speed no one imagined such an enormous creature could. Still,
Push-Her-On? The names some people come up with—”

“
Why didn’t you just keep
the name Yordin and Roak gave him?”

“
Mahrree, you know full
well I can’t ride a horse named The General. And Gari thought he
was so clever, too. ‘Go get The General!’ Very funny.”

“
Well it’s better than
Clark,” Mahrree tried not to giggle.

“
He likes the name,” Perrin
defended, trying to hide his smile. “He’s already responding to it.
You know, woman, were you that king’s daughter no captain would
have rescued you. They would have just listened to you for a minute
and said, ‘Turn her over to the Guarders. She’ll drive them
mad.’”

She giggled and kissed him.

“
Look, ‘clark’ is the sound
of the horses’ hooves on the cobblestone,” he explained.

“
No it’s not. It’s much
more of a clip-clopping sound.”

“
Clip-clopping? And how
would you know? You’ve never been on a horse.”

“
I have too. A couple of
times your soldiers gave me rides, years ago.
You
, however,
have never rescued me on Clark. Clark, clark, clark, clark. I’m
sorry—I’m just not hearing it.”

“
I seem to remember
offering to give you a ride once or twice. But it’s not hard to see
why I’ve never rescued you, Mrs. Shin.”

“
Because I never needed
your rescuing. Because I never intend to be one of those silly
women that say, ‘Help me, Captain! On your
clark-clark!’”

He shook his head at her and tried not to
smile. “You really want to go west, don’t you?”

She sighed. “No. Yes. I don’t know.”

“
I have a plan. Don’t give
me that look until you hear it,” he chuckled and pushed a lock of
hair off her face. “How about when we celebrate our twentieth
wedding anniversary in two years we do something different. It
seems to be tradition that men take their wives east to Waves, but
that sounds dull. Just watching the sea go back and
forth?”

Mahrree bit her lip in anticipation. “I
agree. Go on . . .”

“
What if we, Mrs. Shin,
went
west
instead? By that time the expedition will be back
with updated maps, the news must have been good—how dare they
return otherwise?—and you and I will spend the Weeding Season in
two years exploring the ruins ourselves.”

“
Oh, don’t tease me like
that.”

“
I’m not
teasing.”

“
You’re
serious?”

“
I’m always serious,” he
teased.

She sat up. “Have I told you today that you
are the most perfect man in the world, and that I love and adore
you more than words can say?”

He grinned. “Then maybe I better make sure
that expedition is finally on its way.”

---

Mahrree had a difficult time concentrating at
school that day. Her mind was heading west with the thirty
scientists, assistants to the Administrators, and soldiers set to
explore Terryp’s land.

Even if her mind wasn’t miles away, it was
still getting harder to teach her students what the Department of
Instruction insisted upon. Mahrree realized some time ago that she
was now the only teacher not enamored with the government’s control
of education, likely because the rest of Edge’s teachers had gone
through the Department of Instruction’s very thorough training, and
were wholly converted to the notion that government knows best. But
each year the curriculum was more lifeless, and she could hardly
blame her students for staring listlessly at the large slate
board.

Only a third of her students were there that
morning. Some were taking the Final Administrative Competency Test.
Mahrree thought it was ironic that the first letters formed the
word FACT, because very few useful ones would be found on it.
That’s where Peto was, hoping to prove he didn’t need another year
of schooling.

But he’d pass easily. His teachers, like all
the others, had taught only what the test would cover. And over the
years the test questions had become so simplified and leading that
Mahrree thought a sheep had a fair shot at passing it if only it
could hold a quill to mark the ‘yes’ and ‘no’ boxes.

Besides, only the top ten percent of students
would be offered the chance to go to a university, and that was her
goal for Peto: to be something more than just another worker drone
for the Administrators earning them more gold. The government
didn’t want an intelligent population, just an obedient one. When
too many people become independent thinkers, the elite has no more
sway over them. You can’t manipulate people who know how to think
for themselves. No wonder they did away with debating so many years
ago.

Another few of her students were out on ‘farm
need,’ but the notes they wrote for each other pretending to be
each other’s fathers had far too many spelling mistakes to be
believable.

But with fewer students today she hoped she
might actually make some progress with her “special cases” since
there were only a dozen in the room: the perfect size for a
class.

Still, Mahrree struggled nearly as much as
her students did to care, counting down the days—no, hours—until
the Weeding Season break. She ploddingly wrote down dates on the
slate board that no one, not even her, would feel the need to
remember after the—

“
Mrs. Shin, is this going
to be on the End of Year test?”

Mahrree sighed. Oh to have a student ask just
one truly interesting question! But those days were long gone, and
the schools had bored out of children their natural desire to learn
by age eight.

Before she turned around to face the
teenagers, Mahrree made sure her teacher expression was fixed and
ready.

“
Chommy, I know that was
you, because that’s the only question you ever ask. And since it’s
the only question you ever ask, you know the answer I always
give.”

The boy on the back row sighed. “I know. ‘It
doesn’t matter, does it? Because all learning is important.’”

“
Oh good, I was hoping you
would pick something up this year. You now know how to mimic
me.”

“
Nah, that’s Lannard’s
hobby,” Chommy punched the shoulder of his friend next to
him.

Lannard, engrossed with his packet of
matches, was sniffing the sulfur tops. “What?” he said
automatically, his head popping up. “The answer’s four.”

Mahrree congratulated herself for not rolling
her eyes and gestured for him to, once again, put away the
matches.

Chommy shook his head as the rest of the
class snickered. “Lannard,” he said in a loud whisper, “she didn’t
ask a question. And just because your answer of ‘three’ yesterday
was wrong, there’s no reason to believe ‘four’ will be correct
today.”