The Falcon in the Barn (Book 4 Forest at the Edge series) (78 page)

Perrin sighed. “Do we really need water?”

“
Yes. And even more, we
need the waste water piped away from the house to the waste
canals.”

“
I suppose we do. Tell him
to go ahead. And then see if Peto wants to be apprenticed to him.
Forty slips of silver? Now that’s a profitable career.”

Mahrree kissed him again and got off his lap.
“I think my five minutes are up.”

“
Oh, if only it were
ten
,” he said with a suggestive eyebrow waggle, and held his
hands out at the long, wide desk.

Mahrree blushed. “Then you could never again
look at your desk without smirking. Try explaining
that
to
Captain Thorne.”

“
You’re probably right,” he
chuckled. “And Thorne can’t seem to understand anything
anymore.”

---

Lemuel Thorne huffed across the compound to
the western gates where he watched the three villagers argue their
way to Edge. Where they were going, the captain didn’t know or
care. But if any violence ensued, it would be the colonel’s fault.
Yet he wouldn’t realize that. Colonel Shin was so blinded he saw
nothing clearly anymore.

She’d done it again! Showed up unscheduled,
looked at her husband with kitten-eyes, and he melted into a puddle
of uselessness. The control she had over him was astonishing. On
many occasions Thorne wanted to bring the poor colonel’s attention
to the fact that he was being manipulated, but he knew the timing
wasn’t right.

Until then, the file on the egregious
behavior of his wife was thickening every week, and within another
season or two, the pile of evidence would be overwhelming.

Then Colonel Shin would see.

So would Administrator Genev.

And then the whole world.

And it would be Lemuel Thorne who delivered
the world’s greatest traitor to Idumea.

That had to be a one way trip to becoming
High General.

---

That evening after dinner Mahrree remembered
the bag of pits. When she gave them to Peto he actually scowled at
the contents.

“
What’s this supposed to
mean?”

Mahrree shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe Yung
thought you’d like to plant a few? But not near the trenches where
the pipers are digging, apparently,” she added, a bit
mystified.

Peto’s fist clamped around the bag. “But what
does this
mean
?”

Yung tied up meanings around everything, so
much so that Peto now looked at innocuous objects and thought,
How would Rector Yung turn this into a Holy Day lesson?
He
didn’t know if he should be alarmed or impressed that he came up
with a couple of sermons related to the dung wagon that he passed
on his way home.

And now he’d been given peach pits.

As a rector, Yung was the equivalent of
Hycymum Peto as a cook: a steak wasn’t just for eating; it was for
spicing and presenting into something far more than you expected it
should be.

It was the same with everything that Rector
Yung handed you; it always had another layer. That old peach
orchard he helped Yung revive last year wasn’t just about peaches;
it was to teach Peto about rescuing his father, although Peto was
sure he missed a few key points here and there. Anyway, they worked
hard, brought back the orchard that no one had much hope for, and
got a handful of good peaches, then Perrin Shin was better and this
harvest they gathered several baskets full which Yung gave away for
free at the market, annoying the fruit sellers, and now Yung was
giving him . . . the pits.

There was a meaning in there, somewhere.

Mahrree watched as her son studied the pits
with too much worry. “All he said was that you’d know what to do
with them.”

He closed his fist over the bag. “But how do
I know
what
to do with them?” he said enigmatically, and a
bit annoyed, as he trudged off to his bedroom

.

Chapter 29
~
“They’re back! The expedition!”

S
omething Jaytsy had
to learn during the past Raining Season was a new sense of balance:
in walking, in sleeping, and in negotiating the ladders in the
barns. And now that it was the 2
^nd
Day of Planting
Season of the new year 338, she was determined to master the skill
of getting down and up again out of the dirt. Her expanding belly
always led the way, often into ways she didn’t want to go.

Although her mother insisted, along with the
new midwife from Orchards, that she was not large for an expecting
woman, Jaytsy felt positively enormous. Her brother gasping
dramatically at her profile and holding his mouth in mock horror
whenever he saw her didn’t help. And when her father told her,
thinking that he was helpful, to wait for another two moons to see
just how large she
could
get before she birthed the baby,
she was nearly in tears.

Only Deck, when he kissed her belly and
sighed in pleasure, could convince her it really was beautiful.

Her greatest amusement, though, was Shem. The
baby always seemed to be the most active when he visited, and
whenever Jaytsy put his hand on her belly to feel it kicking and
rolling, Great-Uncle-to-be Shem always teared up.

Perrin had given him a new name: Crybaby.

Shem deserved it for calling him Grandpy.

When Planting Season arrived Jaytsy was
determined to get in as much of this year’s crops in as she could
before the baby came. She knew she’d be of little use from the
middle to the end of the season, except to sit under a tree nursing
the newborn and cheering on her husband. Although Deck told her to
not worry—Perrin already had soldiers lined up to help—Jaytsy still
felt a duty to their farm.

That’s why her mother found her one morning
in the middle of a field crawling along the cold damp dirt and
dropping peas.

“
Jaytsy! You’ll ruin your
back that way,” her mother called as she trotted up the row. “Let
me do that for you.”

Jaytsy shook her head. “No, Mother. If you
plant these seeds upside down, we’ll only have roots coming up and
we’ll have to dig in the ground to extract the peas.”

Mahrree narrowed her eyes at Jaytsy. “You
said that was true only of the bulbs.”

“
There’s so much you just
don’t know, Mother,” Jaytsy said with feigned sadness. “For someone
supposedly
so smart
—”

Mahrree smiled. “Not about everything, I
know. But I do know this: if hurt your back now, birthing will be
that much harder.”

“
I feel wonderful, Mother,”
she said, continuing to drop the shriveled peas. “I wouldn’t do
this if I didn’t. It makes me feel better, anyway, contributing to
the farm.”

“
Oh, you contribute plenty.
You’ll be contributing a new farm hand soon! Come now. Teach me
what to do.” Mahrree kneeled down in a row next to her. “I’ve got
this week off of school, so I best start being useful.”

“
You seriously want to do
this, Mother? Get dirt on your hands?”

“
Of course,” Mahrree said
cheerily, but Jaytsy recognized The Dinner smile.

“
How about you go gather
the eggs instead? That’s harder for me to do, bending down and
rooting through the straw.”

“
Are you sure? I really
want to help you—”

“
Then gather the eggs! The
fort cook will be down for them by midday meal, and Deck’s busy
checking on the cows. Looks like a few of them will be birthing at
the same time I am.”

Mahrree chuckled. “Poor Deckett. Life’s just
bursting out all around him, isn’t it?”

Jaytsy pushed up on to her knees. “Remember
how almost two years ago I complained about how many people had
died around us? And now, well . . .” her voice wavered. She’d gone
all Raining Season without crying, but now that she was getting
closer to the baby coming, the tears were closer as well.

Her mother smiled sympathetically. “I know
exactly what you mean. When the Briters passed away, I never would
have imagined that almost two years later you’d be planting their
fields while carrying their grandchild.”

“
All right, now stop!”
Jaytsy said, wiping away a tear and laughing. “I’m a bit
overemotional as it is, I don’t need you adding to it. Get the
eggs.”

“
Your farm, you’re in
charge.” Mahrree got to her feet, looking relieved. A movement down
the field caught her eye. “Perrin?”

Jaytsy turned as well. Her father was running
toward them awkwardly, trying to keep within the long rows.

“
Perrin! What’s wrong?”
Mahrree called to him.

“
They’re back! The
expedition!” he panted and stopped in front of them.

“
And?” Mahrree nearly
screamed.

“
I don’t know! They were
sighted south of Moorland on a fast pace to Idumea. Some of the
soldiers I sent to check on the ruins saw them passing.”

Mahrree stomped her foot. “They didn’t find
out anything from them?”

Perrin smiled. “That’s exactly what I yelled
at them. Apparently they have news about Terryp’s land and they’re
in a hurry to deliver it.”

“
So what might that mean?”
Jaytsy asked, struggling to get up.

Her father scooped her up and placed her on
her feet. “Still not as heavy as your mother was. You have time,”
he assured her. “What does it mean? I really don’t know. I have
half a mind to catch up to them to find out.”

“
So go!” Mahrree said.
“Saddle up and catch up to them!”

Perrin shook his head. “They’re miles away by
now. Even with Clark the only way I could catch them would be to
get horses from the messenger stations, and I have a feeling those
poor men have very long memories.”

Mahrree squirmed. “Then I’ll go! I’m light
enough.”

Her daughter and husband burst out
laughing.

“
Fine, fine,” Mahrree
sighed, trying to hide her smile. “We’ll send Peto.”

Perrin pushed a stray lock of hair off her
face. “Mahrree, we just have to be patient. I’m sure there’ll be
news soon. The only reason I can imagine for them moving in such a
hurry is to deliver their news to the Administrators quickly. If it
were bad news, they’d be taking their time, right?”

“
You may have a point. I’ll
bet that’s the real reason The Dinner was postponed. Not because
Cush is still ill but because they want to turn The Dinner in some
grand celebration about what they found in Terryp’s
land.”

“
Give them three or four
days. Then we’ll know something, I’m sure.”

“
Three or four days?
Perrin, I don’t know if I can handle waiting that long!”

“
You’ve waited nearly a
year, you can wait some more.”

---

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

The knocking was even in his dreams, the ones
he still occasionally had. He knew he’d never fully be rid of the
images, but at least now he could control them, even continue
sleeping through them once he ordered them away. Always the same
thing happened; the Guarders returned, streaming toward his house
in massive numbers.

But they always stopped and knocked on the
door.

Five times.

Thorne’s knock.

Perrin rubbed his eyes and looked up as if he
could see through the ceiling and to the seat of the Creator.

“
How much longer do I get
the privilege of being his commander?” he whispered to the cosmos.
“Just so I know? I’m not complaining, I’m just curious.”

When no answer came, Perrin sighed and said,
“Come in.”

“
Just wondering if you
heard the news, Colonel?” Thorne swung open the door. “That the
expedition was sighted?”

“
I heard, Captain. And
how’s your grandfather?”

Thorne shrugged. “You know as much as I do,
sir. Still ailing. That’s why they’ve postponed The Dinner.”

Perrin nodded once. “Anything else,
Thorne?”

“
Did you look over my
proposal for the new training regime? I really don’t see any need
to continue Zenos’s late night forest tours, since the Guarders are
obviously gone—”

Perrin sat back and folded his hands in his
lap. “As much as I want to believe that, I’ve realized that I
can’t. Because how many times over the past 137 years have the
Guarders been ‘gone’?”

Thorne furrowed his eyebrows. “Sir?”

“
How many times, Captain?
How often did we think they had retreated to wherever they live, or
quit their attacks, only to show up again one day raiding an
unsuspecting village?”

Thorne pursed his lips. “Many times, I
suppose.”

“
Nineteen,” Perrin said. “I
counted once. If they did it nineteen times, they’ll likely do it
twenty. I won’t be the village that’s ‘unsuspecting.’ We’ll
continue Zenos’s training, which has been the best the world has
ever seen, and if I choose to implement changes, I’ll be sure to
let Zenos—and you—know about it.”

Uncharacteristically, Thorne took a step
closer to the desk. “Sir, I think you’re making a mistake. Perhaps
your judgment has been hampered by influences in your past, and if
you’d only listen—”

Perrin was holding up his hand, and Thorne
was staring at it, finding himself suddenly tongue-tied.

“
Let me get this straight,”
he said coldly. “I’ve been hampered by
influences
in my
past? My judgment is
impaired
?”

Thorne didn’t shrink back or even look
apologetic. “One of my duties as your second in command is to tell
you what you may not want to hear—”