The Mansions of Idumea (Book 3 Forest at the Edge series) (24 page)

But right now it was just the two of them,
and Jaytsy sat on the edge of his bed listening intently to his
story. A few times her eyebrows went up in surprise, and Relf
smiled at her responses which inspired him to tell her even more.
Mahrree had never seen his face so animated, nor his eyes so warm.
Jaytsy’s time was up, but Mahrree wasn’t about to interrupt them
for anything in the world.

Everything about the past two days had been
remarkable, she considered. They’d remained cloistered in the
mansion hovering around the High General. That first full day no
one wanted to leave his side, but brought in more chairs to keep
close and watch for improvement. Mahrree convinced Joriana to take
the children on walks a couple of times, but she always returned
quickly just to check on her husband.

The day after that was Holy Day, but no one
left the house to attend the congregational meeting—even though
Joriana said the extra Shins’ attendance would have doubled the
usual crowd. Perrin sat next to Relf the longest, repeating all the
details of the land tremor and recovery efforts he told him when he
was unconscious, and relaying updates from General Cush.

Relf even chuckled last evening, gripping his
sides in pain. When Mahrree asked Perrin later outside the door
what made his father laugh, he said, “I told him about a
misunderstanding Shem and I had right before we left to come
here.”

“What kind of misunderstanding?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Perrin assured her.
“Because, as my father pointed out, officer’s wives always trade
up
.”

“What in the world are you talking
about?”

He just grinned, and Mahrree heard Relf
chuckle again—then groan in pain—in his study.

This morning, the 37
^th
Day of
Planting, General Shin sat himself up, ignored his broken ribs, and
demanded bacon for breakfast, much to his wife’s delight. He even
called for a formal briefing from Cush and his advisors. They’d
left after less than an hour, worried about tiring the general
out.

Jaytsy went in to sit with her grandfather
while Perrin handled some of his father’s paperwork in another
smaller office, and Joriana discussed some matters with her staff.
Peto wandered around the large gardens looking for something round
to kick, and Mahrree spied on her father-in-law from the crack in
the door.

She grinned as the conversation in the study
came to a finish, with Relf beaming at his granddaughter who
giggled at something he said.

Without turning his head he said, “Mahrree? I
know you’re out there, and have been for some time. You can’t sneak
up on an old soldier.”

Mahrree blushed and opened the door wider. “I
didn’t want to interrupt.”

Relf looked over at her and nodded once. “Get
Joriana for me, would you? And Perrin and Peto? I have something to
say to everyone.”

“Of course,” Mahrree said, a little startled
at his earnestness.

Jaytsy just shrugged at her mother.

A few moments later his family surrounded him
again, a little worried as to what he had to say. Everyone had
noticed his new gentler yet earnest demeanor, but none of them knew
quite what to make of it.

“Joriana, I’ve decided that it’s not seemly
for me to be surrounded by so many females for so long,” he
announced solemnly, but with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
“It’s time for you to go shopping. And take these women with you,
too.” He winked at his bouncing granddaughter.

Mahrree chuckled, but Perrin shook his head
at the suggestion. “Nothing here they’d care to see here, Mother.
Sorry.”

“Oh!” Jaytsy wailed dramatically. “I’ve been
patient for days! See, Grandfather? I told you he’d be
unreasonable. Please, Father, we do want to see the shops. Right,
Mother?”

Perrin scoffed loudly.

Mahrree bit her lower lip. “Actually, Perrin,
umm, I would like to see what all the fuss is about. I mean, I’ve
heard so much, I think I should probably see for myself . . .” She
trailed off when she saw the expression on his face.

“What, seriously?” he said, as if utterly
betrayed by all he loved. “Mahrree, since when are you interested
in—” He turned to his mother. “Where would you take them?”

Joriana beamed and clapped her hands. “Relf,
are you sure? We can take midday meal in the city! First, we’ll go
to some dress shops, because someone has a birthday coming up, and
fifteen is such an important age!” she squealed. “Then maybe we’ll
try on hats, then if there’s any time left, shoes!”

Horror stricken, Perrin turned to his wife.
“Really? All afternoon?”

Mahrree had begun to feel a bit concerned
herself, especially when Joriana mentioned hats, which she never
wore, but she knew her mother-in-law had a fondness for, as well as
a full closet of. “Oh, I can’t imagine it’d take all
afternoon—”

“It can. Trust me,” the general groaned. “So
you best get started. Peto will keep me company for a while,
right?”

Peto’s eyes grew big, but he eeked out a
“Right.” He hadn’t yet spent time sitting by his grandfather’s sick
bed, because no one had asked him, nor had he volunteered.

His eyes darted nervously over to his mother,
but the general’s comment drew his attention back to him. “Just for
an hour or so, Peto. Then I’ll need to nap while your father takes
you to see the new kickball arena.”

Peto grinned. “I’ve been hoping to see
that!”

Perrin shrugged in reluctant agreement.
“Could be worth a look. Just to see what the
fuss is all
about
.” He sent one last scathing look at Mahrree.

She really didn’t know what to do with
it.

Not that she
wanted
to go shopping;
she never enjoyed having to wade through what others considered
desirable, choose one, then hand over hard-earned slips of silver
for it. She never saw the appeal of the process, especially when
she spent an hour and didn’t find anything she really liked or that
was worth her metal.

But she had been intrigued, she was loath to
admit, about Idumea for years. Anything that so riled her husband
must be analyzed more closely. Just to understand. That was
all.

She shrugged apologetically at him.

He just shook his head.

“So we’re off!” Joriana chirruped like a
woman fifty years younger and clapped her hands again. She turned
to Mahrree and Jaytsy. “We’re going to have so much fun! Let’s make
you presentable.”

Even Mahrree couldn’t help but let escape a
giggle as the three women rushed out of the study to their
bedrooms. But she stopped suddenly at the study door, looked back
at her husband with another apologetic expression, shrugged
helplessly, and rushed off.

Perrin turned slowly to his father. “You know
how I told you yesterday that I briefly worried that a certain
enlisted soldier was moving in on my wife? I think I just lost her
anyway, General. I have no idea who that woman is with my
mother.”

“I guess this is another reason why you hate
Idumea?” Peto asked.

Perrin pointed to his son. “Yes, exactly!”
Turning back to his father he said, “Cush told me again this
morning that he wanted me to meet his grandson. I could head over
to the university now, but only if you’re doing all right. Do you
mind if I go for an hour? You’ve got Peto, after all.”

“I was hoping for a way to get rid of you.
See you in an hour.” Feebly he saluted his son, and Perrin returned
it with a grin. He winked at his nervous son and headed toward a
back door.

Peto gulped now that he was nearly alone with
the general.

“Riplak,” the general said to the lieutenant
sitting in the corner drearily thumbing through a book, “I won’t be
needing you for a while. You maybe be excused.”

“But sir, I have strict orders to stay—”

“Lieutenant,” the general said more
forcefully, “I still override any command you may have been given
by Colonel Thorne. There’ll be no classified information shared
between a grandfather and his grandson that the garrison needs to
monitor.”

Riplak looked down uncomfortably. “Of course
not, sir. My apologies.”

“Son,” said General Shin more easily, “go to
the kitchen and find something to eat. For drawing the dullest
assignment in all of Idumea, you should have some kind of reward.
I’m sure Kindiri could use the company.”

The lieutenant’s face brightened. “Thank you,
sir! I’ll make sure she’s cooking your midday meal properly.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will.”

As he left, the general gestured to his
grandson to come closer. “He won’t be back for a while. He’s got a
thing for our cook.”

Peto frowned. “A thing?”

Relf studied him. “You’re not quite fourteen
yet, correct?”

“Yes.”

“So . . . if you happen to see those two
alone, just don’t listen to anything they say, all right?
Especially if they start talking about cucumber sandwiches.”

Peto scowled. “Why would they talk about
that? Cucumbers aren’t even in season—”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Relf said hurriedly and
rubbed his forehead. “I know. When you’re seventeen you’ll likely
understand better.”

Peto stared at him, completely lost.

“Now,” his grandfather leaned over to him
conspiratorially, “I smelled Kindiri baking my favorite sweet rolls
earlier. Your grandmother thinks I can’t handle them yet, so she’ll
have hidden them in the second pantry, near the bottom shelf.
That’s where she always hides things she doesn’t want me to eat. Go
get us a few, and then you and I will have a little talk.”

Peto swallowed again. One of these times, his
tongue was sure to go down too.

Chapter 8
~
“Peto, have you ever had . . . a dream?”

P
errin felt agitated
the moment he stepped onto the campus of the University of Idumea
and headed toward the buildings devoted to the Command School. He
knew he would, though.

When he left over twenty-five years ago, he
promised himself he’d never return. There’d been some good moments,
true, but there were also many others that he’d shoved to the back
of his mind, hoping to never again revisit.

Yet there they all were, flashing in front of
him like a manic lightning storm. People and memories and arguments
he’d nearly forgotten, all brought to the fore as he gazed at the
tall trees, stone and block buildings, and young men in uniform
coming and going along the paved walkways.

He took a deep breath, steeled himself, and
headed toward the mess hall where most of the cadets would be. He
didn’t get very far before
it
started. The looks. The double
takes. The salutes.

They recognized him.

It wasn’t as if he was a perfect double for
his father, but there was enough family resemblance than any young
soldier who knew the High General also knew his son. Since he was
in uniform they had to salute, but it was more than that. They
looked at him with some kind of expectation. His stomach twisted at
the idea that all these young men thought that someday he would be
their High General.

He was the only one there who didn’t.

The ones that held his gaze longer were those
pre-commissioned as lieutenants. The top of their classes, the
leaders of their peers, the most ambitious—and therefore the most
obnoxious—of the future officers. Perrin knew, because he’d been
one of them.

One even nodded knowingly at him, as if they
shared some secret, but Perrin ignored the sanctimonious effort. It
was all such a game, to be the greatest and bravest and most
arrogant breed of soldier Command School could produce. All for the
hope of being placed in the right fort, with the right
possibilities to reach the position of commander, and to be in
charge.

Why was that so appealing? Being in charge?
It sounds like one is afforded great power, but what one really is
given is overwhelming responsibility. People live or die because of
your decisions. Why does anyone crave that kind of control?

Perrin certainly didn’t. One time he did, but
now? Edge was more than enough responsibility; he didn’t want his
father’s. No one was more grateful to see him improving than
Perrin, and mostly for the selfish reason that his survival pushed
back again the question of who would be the next High General.
Certainly not a lowly Lieutenant Colonel, but Perrin suspected that
would be changing soon. Maybe it was the way his mother had checked
the size of his jacket before she left for the shops with his wife
and daughter. A new one was likely being ordered.

Perrin realized he’d stopped walking as he
stared at the door of the mess hall with young men streaming into
it. Cush’s grandson would be a lieutenant, but beyond that he
wasn’t sure who he was looking for—

It didn’t matter. The strapping boy with
short blonde hair leaking out from under his cap saw him first and
immediately marched over to him. Before he even arrived, Perrin
recognized the features of his mother Versula Cush Thorne. He
plastered what he hoped was a convincing smile on his face and
returned the salute of the young future officer.

“Lieutenant Colonel Shin, I presume?” the boy
said confidently. His eyes were determined, his stance
self-assured, his demeanor sharp and focused.

Perrin hated him.

There was no reason for it. But it was just
like when someone places a new dish of food in front of you, and
even if you’ve just come off a long ride and hadn’t eaten for two
days, you instantly know there’s no possible way you can swallow
that
down. You haven’t even tasted it, or even know the
ingredients for that matter, but it’s completely unpalatable.

Maybe it was just the effect of Idumea,
tainting all that he encountered with the natural repulsion he felt
toward anything associated with the city. He knew nothing of the
boy. Young man. Except that he was Versula’s son, Cush’s grandson,
and his features were so perfectly chiseled that undoubtedly the
young women considered him handsome.