The Falcon in the Barn (Book 4 Forest at the Edge series) (77 page)

Peto nodded, not sure of the condition of his
voice.

“
Someday, when the time’s
right, will you explain to me what just happened here?”

Peto smiled faintly. “Yeah. Relf wants us to
wait, though.”

“
I caught that
part.”

The two of them sat there silently,
meditatively, in the grass.

Until a thought hit Peto, and he buried his
head in his hands. “But now what? I’m no closer to figuring out my
future. Shem, it’s not fair. You know how easy it is for girls?
Jaytsy had no worries. She just sat around and waited until some
man fell in love with her and married her.”

“
Actually, Peto,” Shem said
with a sad chuckle, “it was a
little
more complicated than
that.”

Peto waved that off. “That whole Thorne
wanting to take her to Idumea thing—that was nothing. Not like
this. My parents have tried every title on me in the past few
weeks, just to see what sounds best. Doctor Shin. Professor Shin.
Rector Shin. Old Goat Milker Shin—”

“
Old Goat
Milker?”

“
I threw that one in, just
to watch their reaction. It was pretty good. You would’ve
appreciated it.”

“
I kind of like the sound
of Rector Shin myself. Rector Yung is becoming Rector
Old
.”

Peto chuckled. “So why don’t you become
Rector Zenos? I don’t know of a man more open to inspiration than
you.” The last ten minutes still sat on top of Peto, pressing him
into the grass with sobering reality. “Really, Uncle Shem. No one
more than you.”

Shem gently elbowed him. “You wait for your
calling, Peto. My calling was to be a soldier for your father. Your
calling will come to you as well.”

“
My calling?” He remembered
vaguely his father saying that to him as well, the night they left
Idumea. The fact that he had never again thought of those words
twanged his conscience.

“
You’ll feel it someday,
Peto. Not just as a ‘Gee, I’d love to play kickball for the next
five years’ kind of feeling, but a drive, a
need
to do
something for the world and the Creator. Most people don’t wait for
it. They just jump into the most convenient job that presents
itself. But if you ask—and wait—you will eventually feel something
deep and clear that demands that you act upon it. You have a
calling.”

“
I suppose I do,” Peto
sighed. “So what do I do in the meantime?”

“
Well,” Shem rubbed his
chin. “Keep going to school, just to stay sharp. Keep practicing,
just to stay sharp, and . . .”

“
Wait,” Peto finished for
him. “I have to admit, I don’t exactly enjoy waiting.”

Shem’s face fell. “I recommend you get used
to it now. Nothing happens when you think it should. There are a
lot of things I’ve been waiting for, for a long time now.” He
looked up to the mountains, his eyes clouded. “The Creator has His
reasons, and we just have to trust them.”

Shem shook out his shoulders, put on his
familiar smile, and elbowed his nephew again. “Come on. You need to
get home and I’ve got a shift coming up. Going to be another long
night for your Uncle Shem.”

---

The forest was very active that night, but no
soldiers knew it. Men, horses, and even two women in dark clothing
filled a section of the trees north and east of the fort,
waiting.

Shem had scheduled the soldiers to patrol in
the west.

The deep canal, which normally ran from the
river to the few farms on the east side of Edge leading up to where
the murky swamps began, was empty of water, as it usually was in
the Harvest Season.

But there was still a steady trickle in it
heading north.

---

Mahrree opened the door when she heard the
knocking. “Thank goodness you got here so quickly . . . oh. Rector
Yung! I was expecting the piping man.”

“
Oh dear,” Yung said. “A
clog?”

“
A burst!” Mahrree sighed.
“The side of my yard is now a mud bath, in case you know of any
dry, hot pigs?”

Yung chuckled. “I wished I could help, but
actually I was hoping to catch Peto home.”

“
He’s off again,” Mahrree
sighed. “Kickball. Although for the past couple of days his heart
doesn’t seem to be in at as much.”

“
Oh really?” Yung seemed
unusually interested in that.

“
Yes, I’m not sure why, but
whatever has changed in him has certainly made him quieter.
Honestly, Rector,” Mahrree lowered her voice, “I’m worried about
him. He won’t tell me what’s going on.”

To her surprise, Yung chuckled. “A teenage
boy not telling his mother what’s going on? Mrs. Shin, that’s
pretty typical.”

“
Yes, but my
daughter—”

“
Is a female. There tends
to be a difference, you know.”

Mahrree had to smile at that. “So I shouldn’t
worry?”

“
Mrs. Shin, I believe you
have far less to worry about now than you did a few days
ago.”

Mahrree sighed. “If you say so.”

“
I wanted to give him
this,” Yung said, holding up a small bag.

Mahrree felt the contents through the cotton
as she took it. “Feels like . . . rocks?”

“
Pits,” Yung clarified.
“From peaches, to be specific. I thought he might find it
interesting to plant a few, see what comes up? Your garden seems to
have a bit of room.”

Mahrree nearly laughed. A bit of room? She
hadn’t seen the gravely soil in over a decade, so overrun by
unidentifiable foliage that her daughter didn’t know where to start
fixing it.

“
I’ll give him the bag,
Rector. Thank you.”

“
Remind him, however, to
not plant the pits anywhere near the new piping that may go in. The
roots will get all tangled in it.”

Mahrree frowned. “But the piping is down at
least two feet.”

Yung tilted his head, amazed. “You really
know
nothing
of gardening, do you Mrs. Shin? Peto will know
what to do with them.”

---

Knock-knock . . . knock-knock-knock.

There were very few things that could wipe
the guarded smile from Perrin’s face that day. The notion that in a
couple of seasons he might be cradling a newborn again—his own
grandchild—had filled him with an emotion the past week that he
would almost dare label as giddy. As ridiculous as it might seem,
as un-soldier-like as it would sound should he ever admit it, he
really loved nothing more than squishy cheeks.

But the knock erased his smile for a moment,
until Perrin remembered it wasn’t
his
child.

“
Come in.”

Thorne opened the door, and behind him stood
three villagers with stern expressions. “Sir, we have a problem
with a property line—”

“
No,” Perrin interrupted
him, “we don’t. Maybe some villagers do, or Chief Barnie does, but
we at the fort have no property line disputes.”

The men behind Thorne immediately began to
argue that point, but Thorne held up his hand which then became a
fist.

Impressively, the men immediately
silenced.

He turned back to Colonel Shin with a
determined gaze. “Sir. The problem arose back when the pox
eliminated the original owners of the property. The line was in
dispute at the time, and the issue has arisen again. To avoid
violence—”

“
You shouldn’t have brought
them here,” Shin said with a glare just as penetrating. “The three
of you, take your complaint out of my office. We have, as I’m sure
you well know, something called a chain of command. I am at the
very end of that chain. Begin at front of it. May I recommend
Rector Yung? He’s probably the most insightful and fair-minded man
in the village. Allow him to mediate your problem. If you still
find yourselves in disagreement, then visit Chief Barnie. If he
can’t resolve your issue, take it to Magistrate Wibble. Still no
satisfying result, then you may SCHEDULE my time in order to come
speak to me. Is that understood?”

Thorne’s glare increased by a few degrees.
“Yung? The old rector?” he scoffed. “Rectors are naïve and
simplistic.”

“
Rector Yung,” Perrin said
steadily, “can see into the heart of a problem far faster, and can
make the correct judgment far better than any man or woman in this
village, myself included. And that, I suspect, is why these men do
not
want to consult with him. He will see right through
whomever is attempting to deceive.”

At that, the three villagers huffed and
harrumphed and guffawed, and abruptly turned to stomp down the
stairs of the command tower.

Perrin smiled smugly.

But Thorne was seething. “Sir, you could have
resolved that in five minutes—”

“
No, I couldn’t. It
would’ve taken them five minutes just to decide who should speak
first. And I don’t have five minutes today, Thorne. You know that.
For some reason the garrison feels they need a full accounting of
every last weapon in the fort, and the inventory sent to them
written in my own hand in triplicate. That’s why I sent you out on
the village patrol today, and didn’t go out myself. I didn’t want
you to bring back trivial problems.”

“
That was hardly trivial!”
Thorne insisted. “The way we handle the small problems reflects on
how well we handle the big ones. If the village sees that we’re
ready to step in and—”

“
And handle
every
little issue? Every
trivial
problem? Then they’ll never do
anything for themselves again! That’s precisely what the governing
body should NOT do—manage every detail of their lives. We are not
their meddling grandmothers; we exist to keep them safe so they can
make their own decisions, resolve their own problems, and live
their own lives as their conscience dictates. We are NOT to become
that conscience.”

“
Why not? Colonel, if
they’re incapable of making intelligent choices—”

“
They can’t learn to make
those choices if they aren’t given the opportunity, Thorne. Give
them the opportunity to learn.”

“
And fail?”

“
Failure is part of
learning, Captain. It’s not to be shunned—it’s to be embraced and
learned from. Would you really want someone making all your
decisions for you?”

“
No! But I’m not like
them.
Neither of us is. We are superior in training,
education, and intelligence. They
need
us to guide and
direct them. They simply aren’t capable of it—”

“
HO!” Perrin howled,
finally reaching his tipping point. “Who are you to judge who’s
capable and who isn’t?”

“
These make me worthy of
judging!” The captain slapped the Administrative patches on his
chest, and Perrin wished the upright sword on the little pine tree
patch would have stabbed Thorne’s finger. “These say I’m in control
and I make the decisions.”

Perrin took a deep breath and slowly shook
his head. “You’re willing to dismiss the advice of a wise, selfless
rector in order to put all your faith in a committee of men who are
more motivated by their large houses, stashes of gold, and lust for
status? Captain Thorne, you have no idea who’s superior, do
you?”

Thorne’s jaw slacked. “Colonel Shin, are you
stating that the Administrators are not deserving of their
positions and power?”

Perrin folded his arms. “Yes. And I’m also
saying you should listen to little old rectors every now and
then.”

A soft throat-clearing sound came from behind
the captain.

Thorne stepped aside and pivoted to see where
the noise came from.

Mahrree bit her lip nervously. “If this isn’t
a good time—”

“
No, it isn’t!” Thorne
snapped at her. “The colonel is so exceptionally busy
that—”

“
He can spare five minutes
for his wife, Captain! You are dismissed.”

If a look could draw down thunder from a
clear blue sky, that one from Thorne would have rattled the entire
village. His jaw worked back and forth for a moment before he
turned to Mahrree with an expression that startled Perrin. Why
Lemuel regarded innocent, sweet Mahrree Shin with such animosity,
Perrin couldn’t understand.

But he would never forget it.

With a quiet growl, Thorne turned on his heel
and thumped loudly down the stairs.

Mahrree exhaled and looked at her husband
with wide eyes. “What was
that
all about?”

He gestured for her to shut the door. When
she did so, he said quietly, “I’m sure the soldiers in the outer
office are wondering the same thing.”

“
You’re right—he really has
turned rancid. Mushroom pudding is now more lethal than that blob I
grew many years ago.”

She went to sit on a chair, but her husband
shook his head and pointed to his lap.

She giggled softly. “What if someone caught
us doing this?” she asked as she made herself comfortable.

“
My chair. I get to do
whatever I want on it. If I don’t want to be disturbed, I just
don’t say ‘Come in’,” and he kissed her.

“
By the way,” he mumbled
after a while, “why did you come by?”

“
Just to see if a grandpy
can kiss as good as my husband,” she murmured back. “I suppose he
can . . .”

Perrin groaned and pulled away. “Not Grandpy!
Anything but that.”

Mahrree giggled again and snuggled into his
neck. “Actually, I just came by to tell you the estimate for the
burst piping under the house. The pipe maker said it will be close
to forty slips of silver, depending on how much he has to replace.
He can get working on it this afternoon.”