The Falcon in the Barn (Book 4 Forest at the Edge series) (76 page)

“
No sir!” Peto mentally
thanked his maternal grandfather, wherever he might be, for having
more dominant traits than his father. His face may be the copy of
Colonel Shin, but his brown hair, pale eyes, and body shape came
from a school teacher.

The scout chuckled. “At ease,
soldier
.
I was player, just like you. No need for ‘sir’-ing me. I’ll be
honest with you, Mr. Shin, you’re a good candidate. Tryouts are at
the beginning of Weeding Season next year, and men start coming in
Planting to practice.” He folded his arms and grinned. “You are
officially invited to come to Idumea!”

“
Thank you, sir!” Peto
exhaled. “You won’t be disappointed, I promise!”

“
Oh, I’m sure I won’t. Do
you have a way to come down?”

“
Uh . . . working on
it.”

The scout smiled. “We have plenty of time
yet. I’m sure we can work something out.” He glanced around before
saying in a low voice, “A lot of boys
say
they’re going to
the university, and tell their parents they want to head to Idumea
early to get a feel for the city. Those that make the team simply
never start school. Those who don’t instead go to school for a
while until they do make the team. Then they drop out of the
university.”

Peto’s eyes brightened. “Do you have any
players that do both? Study
and
play at the same time?”

“
Not successfully. You’re
still young, Peto. The university can wait. And once you start
those command classes—”

Peto shook his head emphatically. “I’m not
going to Command School. Just the university.”

The scout stepped back in surprise.
“Seriously? I thought with a name like Shin there was no other
possibility than—”

Peto held up his hands. “I don’t want to be
an officer. Never have.”

“
Not that I would want to
either,” the scout said, “but I’m curious—why not?”

“
Would
you
like to
go to Command School as the son of Perrin Shin? The grandson of
Relf Shin? The great grandson of Pere Shin?”

The scout shook his head in sympathy. “No.
No, I wouldn’t. I see your point.”

“
Exactly! Tell me, how
could I possibly live up to whatever expectations anyone would have
of me? No one will be able to top my father’s accomplishments, so I
won’t even bother to try. I mean, true—he jumps into his trousers
with both legs at the same time like every other man, but still . .
.”

The scout squinted, his face reflecting the
puzzled wondering if he had been dressing incorrectly his entire
life. He blinked it away. “So what do you want to study?”

“
I don’t know. My mother
wants me to be a fort surgeon. If I’m not a soldier, at least I can
patch them up, I suppose—”

The scout nodded. “You could do that for us
as well. You could become a team surgeon.”

Team surgeon?

Team surgeon . . .

A memory surfaced in Peto’s mind. He
remembered getting lost in the fort once when he was little.
Apparently it happened several times when his father showed off his
little boy and set him down thinking he wouldn’t toddle off
again
. Once, when Peto was about three or four, he had made
his way into the soldier’s quarters and became disoriented in the
rows of bunks and trunks and hallways and windows. He didn’t panic,
but he couldn’t remember which way was out to the mess hall, his
real destination. He still remembered the relief and excitement
that swept over him when he turned another confusing corner and
crashed right into Uncle Shem’s legs. When Shem picked him up and
carried him out of the maze, Peto felt as if everything in his life
was perfect again.

Team surgeon.

The same feeling came over him again. The
maze of his future suddenly became a straight and perfect path that
led all the way to Idumea, with his parents in tow.

A smile formed on Peto’s face and expanded
into a grin. “A team surgeon.”

“
Oh, yeah,” the scout
nodded. “You know how many injuries we have each season? You’d be
busier than any fort doctor. Plus you get to sit on the sidelines
of every game. Your on-field career will last five years, if you’re
lucky. Usually a permanent injury ends your playing, but then you
need to do something else with the rest of your life. You can’t
have my job—I plan to be a scout until I die. But we could use a
surgeon.”

Peto clapped his hands. “I’ve found my way to
Idumea, sir! And I’ll make the team, I promise you that.”

A few minutes later, Peto, fully dressed and
leaving the arena changing room, rode an enthusiastic wave that
distracted him from noticing anything else, including the blue
uniform standing in a shadow next to the exit.

“
Where do you think you’re
going, Peto?”

Peto stopped and turned to the voice, the
wave crashing down around him.

“
Uncle Shem! What are you
doing here?” But he already knew.

“
I want to know where
you’re going,” Shem said genially as he put his arm around Peto’s
shoulders, walked him out the door and across the field.

“
I’m going home,” Peto said
evasively.

“
I mean after
that.”

Peto gave him a sidelong glance. “Then I’m
going to bed.”

Shem shook his head. “I know what you’re
planning, Peto.”

“
Rector Yung’s supposed to
keep things in confidence!” he fumed. “He must have told you last
night about—”

“
I haven’t spoken to Yung
in about three days, Peto.”

“
So then how did you . . .
Wait,” Peto glared. “How long have you been here?”

“
Too long. Looked like a
meat market in there, with those scouts poking as if you’re a
potential steak. Worse than the exam we give to new
recruits.”

“
Don’t exaggerate, Shem,”
Peto snapped, feeling as if the entire world was out to undermine
him. “Look, I’ve got it all figured out. Everyone will be happy. I
can go to the university
and
be on the team—”

“
Are you going to tell your
parents about the team, or the university?”

“
They don’t need to know
about the team yet,” said Peto firmly. “They’ve never seen that as
a real profession.”

“
It’s not,” Shem agreed.
“In five years your body is used up. I heard the scout.”

“
So are a lot of soldiers’
bodies, Shem. I’ve seen them,” Peto pointed out. “Very few make it
as long as you and Father.”

Shem bobbed his head. “That’s true. But
you’re deceiving your parents by not telling them that first you’re
going to play.”

“
You don’t know that,” Peto
said, wishing Shem didn’t have such a firm grip on his shoulder. “I
don’t even know that. I’m still working on it. I have to make the
team first.”

“
He won’t let you go, you
know. Not to Idumea.” Shem held him tighter.

Peto stiffened. “Yes he will. He has to. He
has to go there, too.”

Shem looked at him askance. “Why do you say
that?”

“
Never mind.” Peto rubbed
his forehead. “Look, I know what I’m doing. Just let me try to
pursue my dream.”

Shem stopped suddenly and Peto walked right
out of his grip.

While he realized this was his opportunity to
run, Peto was too intrigued as to why Shem halted. He turned to
face him.

Shem, seemingly rooted to the ground in the
middle of the grassy playing field, reached and caught Peto’s
shoulders again.

The intensity of the expression on his face
made Peto gasp. Shem’s eyes were deep and penetrating, digging
straight into Peto’s soul, and Peto felt himself shrink a little
under his sharp gaze. Shem wasn’t angry or frightening, just
profoundly earnest. Shem to the power of ten.

“
Peto, I have to tell you.
I don’t know why, but I simply must.”

His tone had a quality Peto had never heard
before, almost as if he spoke with another man’s voice, and that
voice carried the message straight to Peto’s heart and nailed it in
place.

“
I’m not able to take
another step,” Shem said, as if under the control of someone else,
“unless I make this very clear: Peto, you
must not
play in
Idumea. And your father must not go to Idumea either. The plans the
Creator has for you and Perrin lie elsewhere.”

“
What?!” Now Peto was sure
that Yung was in on this somehow. “Where?”

“
I can’t tell
you.”

“
You can’t, or you
won’t?
” Peto’s voice choked and his chest burned. He wanted
to be furious at Shem, but instead found his thoughts filled oddly
with his Grandfather Shin, among other confusing things. “Does this
have anything to do with Terryp’s land? The expedition hasn’t
returned yet, but when they do?”

Shem closed his eyes as if in deep
concentration. After a moment he opened them and slowly shook his
head. “I can’t tell you. Not yet. Peto, don’t pursue Idumea. You
could be very successful there, but that’s not the Creator’s plan
for you.”

Peto pulled away from Shem’s grip and sat
down hard on the grass. What kind of trick was this? And who was
Shem to tell Peto what he should and shouldn’t do! What would Shem
know of the Creator’s plans for—

The instant he thought those words he felt a
presence—familiar and powerful—that told him,
Just
listen
.

Listen to Shem Zenos destroy all his
plans?

“
Shem!” he roared angrily
to his lap. “Why? No. No—just
stay out of it
. Ah, you just
don’t understand!”

Shem crouched on the grass by Peto. “What
don’t I understand? The dreams of a sixteen-year-old? The hope of
glory on the field?” He sounded more like himself. “Trust me, Peto.
I do understand.”

Peto shook his head. He wasn’t just a
self-centered ball player. “It’s more than just that. It’s . . .
oh, forget it.”

“
What?” Shem said
earnestly. “Help me understand.”

Peto sighed. “I can’t! I’m not supposed
to.”

Then he felt it, very distinctly. The
presence at his side became stronger, more defined.

And then he knew.

It was his grandfather Relf, right there on
the other side of Shem. If Peto reached out he could have touched
him, or the essence of what Relf Shin was now. Peto couldn’t
understand why he was there. Trying to tell him to ignore Shem? To
go to Idumea anyway? To make his father follow him to be High
General?

No . . . no, it wasn’t that.

Refusing to look up, Peto felt lost in a maze
again as he yanked up a fistful of grass.

Grandfather, I’m no good at this!
he
cried out in his mind.
I don’t know what you want me to do! Why
are you here?

“
Peto,” Shem’s voice came
calmly next to his ear. “You’re not supposed to . . . not supposed
to tell me? Or . . .”

Peto felt Shem sit down in the grass next to
him.

“
Oh Peto, I understand. I
really do. Actually, I don’t understand it
all
, but enough.
It’s Relf, isn’t it?”

Peto’s head jerked up to stare at Shem.

“
I’ve felt him before,
Peto. I’ve even
seen
him before. Not just at the fort, but
in Idumea, after he passed away.”

“
Wh—. H—.”

“
At his burial. That
evening I got to know him better than I ever had,” Shem said
matter-of-factly, as if he communicated with dead people all the
time.

Peto’s eyes bulged. “Uh . . .”

Shem nodded. “He was trying to reach your
father that night. So was your grandmother. They didn’t have much
success at the time, so they tried through me instead.”

Peto stared at him, dumbfounded. Just when
you think you know a man, you discover he’s on speaking terms with
your dead grandparents.

Shem took Peto’s stunned silence as a signal
to continue. “He’s right here, isn’t he? Peto, your grandfather is
proud of your determination to keep your promises. But there are
other ways. This isn’t it. He wants you to wait. He knows more now
than he did when he first spoke to you about it, but more can’t be
revealed; it’s too soon. You need to have faith in Relf, trust his
knowledge, and just
wait.”

Peto shook his head to try to settle the
words in some kind of recognizable order. “Wait?”

Shem smiled and put his hand on Peto’s face.
Peto almost recoiled, but didn’t. It was the exact movement his
grandfather made just after he entrusted the envelope to his
care.

“
Just wait, Peto.” The
voice was back. “You have a future that today you could never
imagine.”

Peto closed his eyes.
Now
he
recognized the voice. He hadn’t heard it in two and a half years,
and he hadn’t expected to hear it again until he died.

Near his heart, Peto felt a patch of heat
appear, taking whatever remaining breath he had away. Slowly the
warmth dissipated.

Shem’s hand slid off of Peto’s face to rest
heavily on his shoulder; another classic Relf Shin movement.

Peto wiped away a few tears that for some
reason had filled his eyes. The presence of Relf Shin faded, and
Shem’s hand came off of Peto’s shoulder. After a long minute Peto
opened his eyes and looked at Uncle Shem.

He’d hoped he’d feel that same sense of
rescue that he’d felt as a small child, but he was still in the
maze. At least he wasn’t alone.

Shem, looking rather drained, attempted a
weak smile. “Did you understand all of that?”