The Mansions of Idumea (Book 3 Forest at the Edge series) (22 page)

On either end of the Grand Hall were tall,
clear windows. The setting sun in the west hit the Hall directly,
bathing it in a warm golden hue, and Mahrree realized that the
rising sun would also fill the Hall with light. For some reason
that made her smile.

Coming down the middle of the mansion, and
opening on to the Grand Hall and the fo-yay, was a staircase.

Well, that seemed to be an understatement for
something wide enough that could have accommodated their entire
family walking up it side by side. The sides were an open
fretwork—Mahrree learned later it was called, likely because any
mothers of young children would fret their heads would get stuck in
it—the wood railings carved in an elaborate design of flowers,
vines, and even a squirrel or two, as if climbing the twenty or so
stairs was like climbing a tree to the second level.

All Mahrree could think initially was, What a
misery to dust all those grooves . . .

The fretful fretwork continued along a
railing of the upper level extending through both the east and west
wings, creating an open balcony. Along the balcony were additional
doors, many of which Mahrree suspected led to nowhere because she
couldn’t imagine what else could possibly be there. But maybe the
house-wide balcony existed only to allow people to stroll along and
look out the front windows across the Grand Hall, or down upon its
floor.

The floor! Mahrree noticed it only briefly as
her husband dragged her along the floor that was also wood, but
such
wood. Not a nick, not a ding, not even any knotholes,
but utterly smooth and polished so highly that she slipped and slid
along it as if it were ice. She couldn’t imagine why anyone would
want such a useless floor that didn’t catch your boots as you
trotted along it, but then again she was Edgy, which meant all she
could think was, Just how long does it take to sweep up this
place?

With her senses fully overwhelmed, and her
mouth gaping stupidly, she followed her husband and General Cush as
they headed for the first large door on the left of the fo-yay.

Cush quietly pushed open the door to allow
them to enter, and again Perrin had to drag her along because she
could no longer make her feet move properly.

She now knew the meaning of “rich.” The study
walls were lined with more carved wood, this time in the form of
shelves higher than her head that held more books than Mahrree knew
existed. Their firm leather covers were so carefully aligned that
it seemed none of them ever left their positions. The windows were
draped in deep red silk curtains, pulled halfway shut to keep the
light subdued. A large desk to the side seemed to be out of place
there, as if it had been shoved a bit wonkily to make room. On top
of the desk were obsessively neat stacks of papers, quills
perfectly lined up and standing at attention in a holder, and three
bottles of ink patiently waiting for something interesting to
happen.

That was also the impression the soldier
sitting next to the desk gave off. He was perched on a cushioned
chair at a semblance of attention, but with a hint of hopeless
boredom in his eyes.

And there, in the middle of the opulent
study, was the wide bed which made Perrin stop suddenly in the
room. Mahrree tried not to skid into the back of him, but the thick
rug on the floor didn’t stop her fast enough. Perrin noticed only
his father lying very still in the white sheets. Mahrree peeked
cautiously around her husband, afraid of what she might see.

The general looked much paler and thinner
than the last time he visited Edge five moons ago, and Mahrree had
never seen him out of his uniform, which seemed wrong at the
moment. By the concerned furrowing of Perrin’s eyebrows, she
wondered if he thought that way too. The general wore his white
army undershirt, however, which still made him officially
presentable. His cap sat on the desk, ready for him to don it.

Perrin’s grip on Mahrree’s hand became so
firm that she patted his hand gently with her other, hoping he’d
ease up a bit. He did so only slightly. They both ignored the sound
of footsteps behind them, too engrossed in staring at the jarring
form of Relf Shin. It was as if seeing a bird stopped ludicrously
in midflight, hanging impossibly in the air, and wondering if it
would fall to the ground or eventually, miraculously, suddenly fly
again—

“You must be the famous Lieutenant Colonel
Shin,” said an unfamiliar but friendly voice next to them. “Mrs.
Shin’s been talking non-stop about you.”

A middle-aged man gently pushed past them to
the general and, as if breaking through some invisible barrier,
picked up his wrist and began to count. Judging by the overcoat he
wore he was a surgeon, likely from the garrison. But still it
seemed to Mahrree an offense to Nature to disturb the tenuous
bird.

Next to her Perrin fidgeted uncomfortably,
also unsure of what to think or do next.

The surgeon nodded at them amiably, not
noticing their reticence. “Pulse steady, but weak. Unchanged,” he
reported. He glanced toward the study door, noticed they were
alone, and said in a low voice, “About your mother, Lieutenant
Colonel—I’m rather glad you’re all here. I haven’t been able to
calm her since the tremor. She’s hardly slept in five days. I
understand her grandchildren have come, too. It might do her some
good to take them to the shops and spend some gold, just to get her
mind on something else than sitting and fretting. Ma’am,” he nodded
to Mahrree. “Get her some distractions, then convince her to at
least take a nap?”

“I’ll do what I can,” Mahrree said.

“Doctor, what do you think?” Perrin asked,
gesturing to his motionless father.

“I have hope,” the surgeon said cautiously.
“We need to keep getting food and water into him, but he’s very
weak. I’m not even sure that he’s fully regained consciousness yet.
He opens his eyes, but can’t seem to communicate. Maybe some new
voices will help.” He patted Perrin on the back.

Since the surgeon had touched the High
General, it seemed obvious that was the next thing for them to do.
Perrin released Mahrree’s hand and pulled a chair over to his
father’s bedside. He sat and looked blankly at her for
suggestions.

Mahrree tiptoed to the side of her
father-in-law, picked up his limp hand, and put it in Perrin’s.
“You’ll likely detect any movement first in his hand,” she
explained. She didn’t know, really. It just struck her as a good
idea.

Perrin smiled dismally at her and looked at
his father’s hand. He cleared his throat roughly and announced,
“Soldier, you’re on duty and out of uniform! When you come out of
this, I’ll expect an answer for that.”

Mahrree smiled at her husband and squeezed
his shoulder. “I’ll go check on the children and your mother. You
stay here and keep berating him. It worked for Shem years ago, it
just might work for him.”

“Except that officers,” murmured the surgeon
as he lifted up Relf’s eyelids and peered into his unresponsive
eyes, “never listen to anybody.”

Chapter 7
~
“Finally found a way to get them to
Idumea.”

A
n hour later the
Shin family was installed in their new quarters, three large
bedrooms on the main level of the east wing of the house, usually
reserved for visiting officers from outer lying forts.

While Perrin sat with his unconscious father
telling him all about the land tremor in Edge, Joriana gave
Mahrree, Jaytsy, and Peto a tour of the magnificent house and
showed them their rooms.

Mahrree could hardly take it all in. During
the tour of both levels, taking in rooms and furnishings and tables
and windows and fireplaces and candlesticks and washing rooms and
stables and gardens, Mahrree kept asking herself, What have we got
ourselves into? Never had she imagined such luxury or grandeur. It
was most overwhelming and, when she thought of her little house
that seemed to shrink by the minute, humiliating. She belonged
there as much as those raccoons belonged in her wardrobe. In a
moment she would probably be noticed, screamed at, and then would
have to run away with someone’s stolen stocking.

Except when Mahrree saw the massive bed she
and Perrin would share. Suddenly, she realized she just might be
able to tolerate living there for a time, if the mansion would
tolerate her.

“A bed! A real bed!”

“You don’t have a bed anymore, Mahrree?”
Joriana said.

“Under all kinds of debris I do. Perrin and I
have been sleeping on the sofa. He tends to hog it all, too.” She
slid her hand longingly across the smooth and clean covers. “At
least we could move it back inside a few days ago.”

“That beautiful sofa was outside?” Joriana
asked, horrified.

“It really wasn’t that bad,” Mahrree waved
off the concern. “It served us well. And I don’t think it was
damaged too much.”

“But the sun could have faded the
colors!”

“Well, usually there was a soldier sleeping
on it during the day, so it was mostly protected.”

It seemed silly to Mahrree to be fretting
about the sofa now, especially after she saw five in the enormous
sitting room. Who cares about furniture when lives are at stake?
But right then Mahrree could focus only the beautiful bed covered
with light blue matching blankets and pillows, just begging her to
test it out.

Her mother-in-law noticed. “I think you best
try it first, to see if it’s comfortable enough. If not, there are
four more bedrooms you can try. Go on—lay down.”

Mahrree shook her head at the thought of four
more rooms and laid down gingerly, not sure how to negotiate around
all the pillows. She closed her eyes, sank into utter delight, and
sighed.

Her mother-in-law chuckled quietly. “So I
suppose this will do? Oh, it’s so good to have you all here!”

Mahrree felt marvelous for two seconds until
Peto came into the room. “Mother, I’m hungry.”

“I think that’s all you ever say anymore,”
she mumbled with her eyes still closed.

“Dinner will be ready soon.” Joriana kissed
her grandson on the forehead. “Cook will ring the bell when it’s
ready.”

“You have a cook?” Jaytsy joined them and
looked around. “Oh, Mother, this room’s nice, but not as nice as
mine. Everything in there is a shade of green.”

“I have the red room,” Peto bragged as if red
were somehow inherently better than green.

“Yes, we have a cook, Jaytsy,” her
grandmother told her. “And also two maids who live upstairs as
well, in the smaller bedrooms I told you about, because this house
is just too large—”

So that’s how you sweep this all up, Mahrree
thought groggily as she sank deeper into the bed. You pay others to
do it. Why didn’t I ever think of that?

“—so you won’t need to make your beds in the
morning,” Joriana told her grandchildren.

“Oh, Mother?” Jaytsy said in an annoying
sing-song voice she saved for when she knew she was about to win an
argument.

“Hmm?” Mahrree answered from the bed, her
eyelids pressed together in a futile attempt to ignore her
children.

“A cook
and
two maids . . . exactly
why is it you don’t want Father to become a general?”

Mahrree sighed. “Ah Jayts, I hardly remember
right now.”

And that was the truth. One somebody to cook,
and two more somebodies to clean up? Then all she’d have to do was
take care of her husband? It sounded like Paradise . . .

“Perrin not be a general?” Joriana exclaimed.
“Why, it’s in his blood! Mahrree, surely you must see that.”

“But Edge doesn’t need a general, does it
Mother Shin?” Mahrree murmured, the conversation blurring in her
mind as she blearily considered that maybe all of this was just a
dream, and she’d wake up a moment later on her old sofa with
another kink in her neck. “If he gets promoted to general, where do
we go?”

“Why, here of course!” Joriana squealed so
loudly Mahrree realized she would have woken up from the ringing in
her ears had it been a dream. The neck kink might have been
preferable.

“Oh Mahrree, children, you’d love it here!
You’re staying for three weeks, right? That’s what I said in the
message, and when Relf improves we can show you what you’re
missing.”

Mahrree cringed inwardly. They had no idea
if
Relf would improve, but right now Joriana was clinging to
any kind of happiness she could snatch. Mahrree wasn’t about to bat
that away.

“Perrin’s been ill-tempered about Idumea for
years now,” Joriana went on desperately, “but I’m sure you’ll enjoy
it. And if anyone can change his mind, it’s you. Imagine how
wonderful it’d be if you were here all the time.”

Mahrree smiled from her prone position.
“You’re right, Mother Shin. It’s wonderful to be here right
now.”

A bell dinged from down the Grand Hall.

“Peto, I believe that’s for you,” Joriana
said cheerfully, as if everything was working out just as she
planned. “After dinner I’ll relieve Perrin and sit with Relf so you
can start telling him—”

“No, no!” Mahrree forced herself to sit up,
even though every muscle in her body disagreed with the effort.
“That’s what we’re here for. I mean, not to convince Perrin to love
Idumea, but to take care of the general. It’s my turn after dinner.
You show me how to get the water down him, then you take your
grandchildren on a walking tour of this marvelous neighborhood.
Doctor’s orders.”

“No, those are
not
the doctor’s
orders. He told me to take them shopping,” Joriana told her
smartly. “But, since the shops are closed for the night, maybe a
quick stroll around the neighborhood? Stretch out those long legs
of yours?” She squeezed Jaytsy’s arm.

On the way through the Grand Hall down to the
eating room—Grand Eating Room, Jaytsy decided it should’ve been
named because of its massive size and the table that could seat
forty people, but Peto countered that the name suggested the room
was eating
them
—they passed the study.