The Mansions of Idumea (Book 3 Forest at the Edge series) (11 page)

Chapter 3
~
“My . . . my . . . my sofa!”

“
D
ear Creator,
please let it be enough,” Mahrree whispered as she saw more and
more people streaming toward the house. Word had spread that dinner
was at the Shin home, and many weary neighbors hadn’t eaten since
last night.

But at least she hadn’t been alone in
cooking. Mahrree looked down the line of cut logs with offerings of
food set on them, and villagers queued to dish up food onto broken
plates and small circles of sliced timbers.

Hours ago, women had arrived with a variety
of ingredients and cooking supplies, and together during the
afternoon they came up with ways to stretch the food they salvaged.
Peto and a few other boys were tasked to dig holes for make-shift
ovens for biscuits. And when two men brought by a deer that had
died when it ended its terrified run during the second tremor by
crashing into a barn, Mahrree thought they just might have enough
to see them through the night.

She looked back toward the spit roasting the
venison in her back garden and decided the spit should stay when
all of this was over. It was an interesting and practical addition.
They probably had enough to feed several hundred people, and that
was what was coming.

“And dear Creator,” she murmured quietly,
“look at them all—sitting together along the road and in gardens
talking, sharing their experiences, giving comfort—I do believe
this is the best Holy Day dinner we’ve ever had. You certainly seem
to work in mysterious ways sometimes.”

Mahrree’s thoughts were disturbed by a horse
approaching along the cobblestones. She looked up to see Shem’s
mount with the most remarkable set of riders. In front of Shem,
seated on the saddle, was her mother. Mahrree couldn’t remember the
last time—if ever—she’d seen her mother on a horse.

Hycymum Peto’s face was flushed and she
looked a bit winded. Shem nodded to Mahrree and redirected the
horse to the alley behind the houses to avoid the crowd of people.
Mahrree jogged to the back of her yard, weaving through villagers
who helpfully trampled her weeds. She arrived just in time to see
her mother turn bright red as Shem helped her off the horse.

“My, was that an experience!” Mrs. Peto said
breathlessly to her daughter and leaned on her for support.

“Thank you, Shem,” Mahrree beamed at him.
“Please, get something to eat before you head back.”

“I think I will. It smells a lot better here
than the rations we’re handing out in the village green,” he
grinned. “And by the way, the lieutenant colonel is still planning
to come home tonight, but he’s a bit delayed. It seems there are
some villagers at the amphitheater waiting for something to watch.
Supposed to have been an obstacle course with bulls as motivation,
and people are bored.”

Mahrree blinked. “You can’t be serious.”

“Unfortunately, I am. Their houses weren’t
badly damaged, so they picked their ways through the smoldering
remains of people’s businesses and shops as if the rubbish movers
were just slow getting there today.”

“In the middle of Edge’s biggest crisis?”
Mahrree exclaimed. “They’re waiting for a show? If anyone has any
sense, those bulls are roasting in someone’s back garden right
now!”

Shem shrugged in disappointed agreement.
“That was what Perrin was hoping to accomplish. Last I heard, he
was having some soldiers escort a group of drunken young men to
where the old mill used to be until it crumbled. There were a few
more groups of people heading to the arena looking for something
interesting to watch, and Grandpy told me Perrin was waiting for
them with that look in his eye. You know the one where no one
leaves feeling very good about themselves?”

Mahrree smiled sadly in approval. “Well, when
he comes, he comes. Plenty around here to keep us entertained.”

Shem nodded and resumed a more formal stance.
“Well then, good evening to you. And Mrs. Peto,” he said to the
older woman who had been staring steadily at him for the past five
minutes, “I hope the ride wasn’t too rough.” He tipped his cap at
her and she smiled vaguely.

As Shem strode off to get some dinner,
Hycymum sat down primly on the log bench near the make-shift spit.
Her shoulder-length curls were disheveled, her second-best apron
was smudged with mud, and she wore her very best cloak which would
take hours of soaking to get clean again. But amazingly, she didn’t
seem to notice.

“Honestly, Mahrree, I just don’t ever
remember such an experience! I’ll be thinking about this for weeks!
Maybe even longer.” She fanned herself with her hand despite the
cooling temperatures.

“I can imagine!” Mahrree said, putting her
arm around her mother and hugging her. “I’ve been worried about
you, wondering what you were going through all alone down
there.”

Hycymum looked at Mahrree, baffled. Then a
distant light flickered on. “Oh, you mean the land tremor! Yes,
that was extraordinary too, wasn’t it?”

Mahrree stared at her mother who was still
flushed. Hycymum seemed to try to pick out Shem among the
villagers, but he was already lost in the crowd. People had made
way for the tall and muscular soldier to get to the front of the
line.

“Mother,” Mahrree began slowly, “what were
you talking about?”

Hycymum went pink. “Do you know how long it’s
been since a handsome young man had his arm around me? Ah, Mahrree,
I now see the appeal of army men! So strong, so powerful. Sergeant
Zenos is still unmarried, right?”

“Mother!” Mahrree sputtered. “He just turned
thirty-four a few weeks ago, and you’re sixty-three! You could be
his mother!”

Hycymum looked at her daughter, and Mahrree
noticed her eyes appeared a bit vacant. “Hmm. I supposed that could
be a problem. Does my hair at least look nice?” She patted her
tousled curls.

Mahrree pursed her lips as she evaluated her
mother’s stability. She wasn’t looking too secure. Something was
definitely collapsing somewhere. “Mother, did you at all hit your
head today? Because that’s the only excuse I can think of for you
right now. When was the last time you ate something?”

“Well, yes, I did hit my head sometime this
morning. And no one would let me back into my house! I’m not sure
why.” She looked around. “It’s terribly bright in here, isn’t it?
Why is there a skinny pig roasting in your garden? Did you invite
all these people, or did they just show up? That seems awfully
rude. I didn’t get an invitation. You should put some basil on that
hog. Improve the flavor. Could take a few treefulls, though. Let me
go find some.”

She stood unsteadily and noticed the
condition of the house.

“Wait—Mahrree, are you remodeling your house?
Without my advice?”

Mahrree gently pushed her mother back down
before she crumpled on her own. “Jaytsy!” she called. “Come sit
with your grandmother while I get her something to eat. I think
she’s been without food for a little too long.”

Half an hour later Mahrree sighed in relief
when she recognized her husband’s horse of the week coming down the
road, just as the sun was setting in the west and casting golden
hues on everything around them. She’d been standing on the side of
the house waving goodbye to some satisfied neighbors, secure in the
knowledge that she’d filled a plate to overflowing and hid it in
the kitchen for Perrin before the last of the morsels were
devoured. Even now there were only a few crumbs left here and
there, and a bony carcass in the back garden. But the northern
neighborhoods of Edge had full bellies. There was only one more to
fill, and she smiled as her husband saluted her casually and rode
up to the house.

But her smile froze in place when the last
beams of sunlight illuminated who was sharing his ride behind
him.

Qualipoe Hili.

“Oh Perrin, what were you thinking?” she
murmured under her breath.

The twenty-two-year-old was so scrawny that
two of him could’ve hidden behind Perrin’s broad shoulders. He
hadn’t worn silk shirts for a few years, and now seemed to be
wearing something so tattered under his soiled jacket that he may
have taken it from a ruined house. Pinching a shirt would have been
nothing compared to how much he’d stolen for Guarders over the
years.

Mahrree clenched her fist as Poe peered
cautiously around her husband. Today of all days he chose to make
his return. Mahrree grumbled to herself that Edge probably quaked
at the thought of housing him again. Of all nights to bring home a
thief, Perrin had to choose this one when not one single house
could be secured.

Her husband tried to catch her eye, but
Mahrree was staring only at Poe when the horse came to a stop.

Then again, on such a night, how could she
even think about turning away someone in need, even if that was a
someone adept at filling every need he might possibly have with his
proven snatch-and-run? She plastered on a welcoming smile, hoping
the shadows of the coming evening hid her concern.

“Mr. Hili!” she delivered her old greeting as
warmly as she could. “What’s the news, Poe?”

Poe slid off the horse and gave her a timid
smile. While he stood at average height, he was skinnier than any
man she’d ever seen. His black hair was a bit long and unkempt, his
light-brown skin even darker for having been outside so much, but
his brown eyes were somehow different than she remembered: a little
brighter, less concealing, and almost honest.

He nervously nodded to her. “The lieutenant
colonel said I could probably find something to eat here. I hope
that’s all right with you?”

He scanned the house quickly, and Mahrree
tried to push down the suspicion that he was casing it.

Poe sighed. “It really hasn’t changed a bit.
That’s good to see. Except it seems a little shorter than I
remember.”

“We’re adding a new roofline. Made the
decision this morning, in fact,” Mahrree explained. Then, with all
the enthusiasm she could find after the long, dreary day, she said,
“Welcome back to Edge! Jaytsy,” she turned to her daughter who had
been running up to greet her father but stopped in surprise when
she recognized Poe. “Fetch the dinner I hid for your father, and
put some on a second plate. I know there’s more than enough.”

Jaytsy looked apprehensively at Poe, but he
smiled at her. She darted into the darkening back porch.

Poe shook his head and let out a low whistle.
“She’s certainly grown up in the past two years, hasn’t she? Used
to try to feed me weeds when she was a toddler, if I remember
correctly.”

Mahrree cleared her throat and glared at her
husband, hoping he’d notice how Poe’s gaze lingered at where Jaytsy
had been. One of these days—and it had better be soon—Perrin would
realize his daughter was turning heads left and right. He still
seemed to want to believe she was still the toddler who loved to
scream at him.

Perrin looked at the thin young man, then in
the direction he was still staring—

For once Perrin saw it, and his eyes enlarged
in worry. “You look tired, Poe,” he abruptly changed the subject.
“Go sit down on the bench by . . . is that a spit? In my back
garden? Well, it looks like there are remnants of something for you
to pick at for now.”

“Yes, sir!” Poe said amiably and left for the
back garden, weaving deftly between stumps and rocks as if he were
used to picking his way quickly through dark and unpredictable
terrain, because he was.

Perrin turned to his wife who had just
sprouted a new steam vent of her own. He pretended not to see her
fuming. “Looks pretty good, doesn’t he? His eyes are brighter than
I’ve seen them in a long time. He’s been spending some time in
Moorland and Mountseen, but came home just two days ago. The Hilis
weren’t too thrilled to see him, though. I think he slept in the
village green last night.”

Mahrree tried her one-eyebrow-raised look. In
the growing dark she was sure it was almost menacing.

“Getting pretty good at that,” Perrin
gestured at her face. “Need to work on the nervous twitch, though.
Kind of ruins the effect. Hmm, now where’s my daughter with my
food?” He rubbed his hands together as if absolutely nothing else
in the world was wrong, except for his tardy dinner. “I’m
starving.”

“Perrin Shin!” Mahrree hissed when she was
sure none of the departing villagers could hear them, “Why is
Qualipoe Hili in my back garden? And where do you suggest he spend
the night?”

“Right here,” Perrin said soberly. “With us.
He’s agreed to be our guard tonight.”

“Are you insane?” she breathed in fury.
“Because I really don’t need two crazy people tonight. I don’t.
First my mother comes here with fantasies of becoming Mrs. Shem
Zenos, and now you’ve brought home a known thief to guard us?”

“It’s all right. He’ll have my sword.” He
squinted at her. “What do you mean,
Mrs. Shem Zenos
?”

Mahrree wasn’t about to be deterred. “You’re
giving him your sword? Poe Hili, right? Do you know how much that
steel is worth? Perrin, is that wise?”

“Yes it is, since he’s going to be one of my
new privates. He’s going to enlist formally once things calm down a
bit. Your mother thinks she’s marrying Shem?”

“No, of course not. She was just a little
confused and fell in love with her rescuer,” said Mahrree hurriedly
to get that out of the way. “She’s already asleep on Peto’s
mattress we brought outside. And yes, the house is secure enough to
venture into, but I don’t think we should sleep there yet. But
Perrin—”

She glanced to the back garden and saw Jaytsy
hesitantly hand Poe a plate of food. The spark was back in his
eyes. Jaytsy ignited fires in the eyes of most men ages fourteen to
fifty, but she was as clueless to that fact as her father was.