The Mansions of Idumea (Book 3 Forest at the Edge series) (50 page)

“Grew used to their condition,” Mahrree
murmured. “No sense in fighting . . .”

That’s exactly what happened with the
servants of the kings. That’s why they sat there for so long behind
the rock wall, never insisting on anything better, never imagining
anything more . . .

Until High General Pere Shin put an end to
the injustice by heaving himself over—

“Perrin,” she said quietly, “we still have a
ways before we get to the mansion . . . I think now would be a good
time to tell the children about a certain group of servants, and a
particular ancestor of theirs who did something for them.”

Perrin smiled in the dark. “I think you’re
right.”

---

“Are you better
now
?” Mahrree asked
Perrin as he crawled into bed with her. He’d spent the last half
hour in the washing room next door, and she’d been wincing for him
the entire time.

“Yes, finally. I think.”

“Still, I’m just going to stay over on this
side for the night, if you don’t mind.”

“See why I didn’t bring you mead that first
night I came over to talk to you? I have a feeling you wouldn’t
have agreed to marry me if I were throwing up in your washing
room.”

“Yet another thing I never knew about
you—mead makes you sick. And yet another reason why you hate
Idumea—it’s giving away all of your secrets.”

He just groaned.

She chuckled. “So, you said you had a plan
for that house bonus?”

“Going to give some of it to Brillen. By the
way, when I was over at the garrison earlier, I was going through
some paperwork and realized that way back when Brillen was first
assigned to Edge, they figured his pay rate wrong. For the past
sixteen years, he’s been underpaid. Of course, when I pointed that
out, they were most embarrassed, and knew they should immediately
rectify the situation. I told them I could carry that large amount
of pay back with me, and bring their apologies personally as
well.”

“What a perfect coincidence!” Mahrree
exclaimed. “You can add your pay to what they’re sending, plus your
bonus—”

Her husband’s chuckling stopped her.

“What?”

“I was hoping that all sounded believable. I
guess I practiced it well enough.”

“Wait—you just made that all up?”

“Even with my ale-ing mind. I’ll even tell
him he shouldn’t mention it to them, because some of the higher-ups
don’t know about the error, and the lower-downs would get even in
more trouble. Best just accept the situation and also realize
they’ll be sending a little extra each moon into his pay to make up
for the inconvenience.”

Mahrree nodded in the dark. “Clever man.”
After another pause she said, “They took it so well tonight, didn’t
they?”

Perrin didn’t even have to ask what she was
talking about. “They did,” his voice swelled with pride. “I spotted
both of them in the study, staring at the portrait of their
great-grandfather. I always thought he was painted a bit sterner
than he really was, but in the candlelight he looks gentler, more
like the man I knew. I think they saw that part of him tonight. He
was a great High General.”

“Just like your father,” Mahrree
whispered.

“Yes,” Perrin’s voice sounded like he was
smiling. “He’s thwarted at every turn, but at least he keeps trying
to do the right thing.”

“Just like you. You, too, would make a great
High General.”

“Mahrree, I thought you wanted me to feel
better.”

Chapter 15
~
“You get yourself ready. I will deal with my
son.”

T
he next several
days passed in a blur, Mahrree realized on Jaytsy’s 15
^th
Birthday, which they had celebrated the day before. Gizzada had
sent over a few large birthday sandwiches yesterday and, either
because he had a bit of a nasty streak in him or he really thought
Relf would enjoy it, the food was accompanied by a large jug of
ale.

Relf had sniffed it and scowled. “Heard about
this stuff, but not too sure about it. Perrin?”

He was already leaning back in his chair when
his father handed the jug over to him.

“Ever tried it?”

“You know I don’t drink anything stronger
than water or new juice,” Perrin said curtly, and sent a withering
look to his son whose mouth was open with some ready response he
realized just then should likely remain in his head if he ever
hoped to see fourteen.

“Well, some have asked if we’ll be serving it
at The Dinner. I suppose we could order a few jugs—”

“And keep it in the stables,” Perrin had
suggested.

As Mahrree watched the dozen young cadets
from Command School trouping delicately around the house that
morning, she cringed in sympathy. She clutched her personal pages
of notes and listened as Joriana ordered the young men about as if
they were her personal servants which, for the day, they were.

“Yes,
all
those long rugs along the
Grand Hall must be rolled up. How else will everyone dance? Into
the back cottage with them. Roll them tighter, cadet, or they’ll be
too big. You over there—see those sprigs of blossoms in the crate?
You’re on blossom detail. Into the vases in the back gathering room
with them, and
artfully
, soldier. That’s a candlestick,
cadet—not a long knife! Hold that more respectfully. And you will
be rubbing those fingerprints off, correct? The rest of you: all
this furniture—out! All those chairs waiting outside—in!”

Mahrree rubbed her temple—a soothing
technique she mastered on her husband a few nights before—and
smiled gratefully at a sulking soldier who carried a large crate of
snipped yellow blossoms past her. It was almost over.

Tomorrow night, then never again. Maybe.

For the past several days Mahrree had been
introduced to every key official, shop owner, caterer, and
musician. Judging by her mother-in-law’s enthusiasm, she began to
wonder if Joriana hadn’t also ordered the land tremor as well, just
to have the opportunity to train her daughter-in-law.

Each night she compared notes with Perrin and
found he’d been meeting with every officer, Administrator, and
Idumean official. The High General had insisted on returning to the
garrison for full days of work, but naturally needed his son’s
accompaniment in every meeting and briefing. Perrin, too, began to
suspect he was being groomed for a takeover.

At least Jaytsy and Peto had been enjoying
themselves, Mahrree considered as she glanced around before
remembering they were nowhere in sight.

For the past few days Peto had been spending
his mornings in the back garden with the new ball his grandfather
gave him, kicking it between two tall trees, and he filled his
afternoons watching the professional kickball practices at the
arena, accompanied by two corporals who served as more-than-willing
guards.

Jaytsy had enjoyed her time with one of the
maid’s nieces who was happy to show her every last shop within a
two mile radius of the general’s mansion, escorted, of course, by
two older and rather homely sergeants hand-picked by her
father.

But today Jaytsy was out with Kindiri
visiting all the caterers with reminders of what time they should
deliver their creations to the mansion tomorrow and, Mahrree hoped,
not
hearing how certain foods reminded Kindiri of Lieutenant
Riplak. Peto was helping soldiers unload chairs from wagons brought
in to seat the more than three hundred guests expected to
arrive.

Mahrree broke out in a cold sweat when she
thought about so many Idumeans. She was Edgy, and as each day
passed she felt she understood this place even less.

The last straw was when Kuman’s gown arrived
that morning. Mahrree took one look at the Smoldering Something
with turtle necklines on bodices and intentional wrinkles and who
knew what else—and realized she could never bring it back to Edge.
No one would know what to do with her in it, Mahrree most
especially.

“Mahrree! Candlestick placement!” Joriana
clapped her hands officiously and pointed to the hapless soldiers
trying to understand the proper way to hold candlesticks. Maybe it
meant using only three fingers, with pinkies extended in miniature
salutes.

“Yes, Mother Shin! Of course. This way,
men.”

Later that afternoon, with chairs and tables
set up, and blossoms arranged and rearranged with alternating
candlesticks to coordinate with differing heights, colors, and
scents, Perrin and his weary father stumbled into the wide back
doors of the gathering room and made their way to the Grand Hall.
Perrin’s mouth dropped open at the dramatic changes, but Relf just
chuckled.

“And you wondered if I should’ve stayed at
home and rested instead.”

“You are tomorrow,” Joriana told him as she
gave him a peck on the cheek. “You need to rest up. And you,” she
pointed at her son, “will not leave these grounds. I will not risk
you suddenly becoming lost, Perrin Shin!”

Perrin pursed his lips as if plan number one
had just been quashed.

“It’s a big house,” he murmured to Mahrree as
his mother helped his father to a soft chair. “There are many
places where I know she’ll never think to look.”

“So why didn’t you tell me about any of
them?” she demanded.

“Cut off her right hand right before The
Dinner? Are you kidding? No one wants to disappoint Joriana
Shin.”

“You just remember that, Colonel!”

But by midday meal the next day, Mahrree
began to wear just as tight an expression as her mother-in-law. The
food was arriving, and in fantastic amounts and displays. Hycymum
would’ve been astounded at the creations, a few of them from
Gizzada’s. The mansion looked near to perfect on the inside, and
outside the servant-soldiers were busy on the surprisingly warm
breezy day sweeping, pulling a few early weeds, and setting up
temporary stables for extra horses and carriages, while also
keeping an eye out for one missing colonel.

Mahrree fumed that somehow he’d managed to
give her the slip. She thought marriages meant couples were united
in everything, and it wasn’t even
her
mother he was
avoiding. It was his own, one that frequently passed Mahrree with
directions, instructions, and snippy inquiries as to where her
“horrible” son had run off to.

Two hours before the guests were to arrive,
she finally found him. Peto had tipped her off, and then ran off to
take his bath as if knowing Mahrree would start yelling because
Peto had known for hours where his father had been hiding. The only
way to redeem himself was to bathe voluntarily.

“Oh, very clever, Perrin!” Mahrree growled as
she recognized his hulking shape wielding a pitchfork and spreading
hay. She stepped carefully into the stables to avoid anything warm
and squishy.

He looked up sheepishly, and the several
other groomsmen hired for the evening stared. It was obvious they
didn’t know that the man laboring by their side for the afternoon
in dusty old clothes was also the host.

“Just lending a hand, Mahrree,” he said
innocently, his big dark eyes almost sincere. “That’s what my
mother told me to do—help out.”

Mahrree clenched her teeth. “She’s been
looking for you all afternoon!”

“But she never comes to the stables,” he
smiled not so guilelessly.

She put her hands on her hips and glared.

He stood up straight and gulped.

“Your bath has been drawn and is waiting,”
she said in a steady but cold tone. “Unless you want your mother to
come out here, dunk you in a watering trough and bathe you herself,
I recommend you get in and get ready now!”

He glanced apologetically at the groomsmen
and handed one of them his pitchfork. “Sorry, boys. But um—”

“Unnerstand, Colonel,” one of them drawled.
“When the jenny brays, best be on yer way.”

Perrin snorted.

“When the jenny—?” Mahrree began, but Perrin
took her by the elbow and led her out.

“They have a variety of interesting
metaphors. That was the tamest I’ve heard all afternoon. There’s a
reason my mother stays away from the stables.”

“Your dress uniform is in our bedroom,” she
told him. “A new jacket and everything, so you best be in it very
soon.”

“Yes ma’am!”

But he wasn’t. An hour before the guests were
to arrive, Joriana sent Mahrree to her bedroom to get ready.

“He hasn’t shown up since bathing,” she told
her daughter-in-law. “Even Peto was more cooperative!”

“Mother Shin, I’ll go find him first—”

“Oh, no you won’t,” Joriana said in a tone
that could slice stone. “You get yourself ready. I will deal with
my son
.
”

Mahrree swallowed. It didn’t help that
Joriana had her hand on a carving knife.

---

Perrin felt the wave of it coming, the
unnatural stilling of the air, the sudden dreadful calm. Even the
pressure of the atmosphere took on a different mood, as if Nature
itself was crying out, “Duck!”

But he was trapped.

He knew it wasn’t the best hiding place, but
he’d run out of options since the mansion was now swarming with
hired hands.

“What in the world are you doing?” Joriana’s
voice suddenly stabbed him like an icicle. “In the second
larder?”

“Mother! Just checking on . . . supplies,” he
said smooth as butter. “Counting jars, for you. Forty-eight,
forty-nine . . . oh, I don’t think that’s right. I best start
again. One, two—”

“You’re not dressed,” she seethed.

He quickly looked down at himself. “Phew! For
a minute there I thought I had forgotten to put on my clothing
again. Then again, had I been less dressed, I’m sure half a dozen
of those caterers out there would have made more than a peep—”

“
You know what I mean
,” she snarled,
and outside a stray cat arched its back and hissed before running
for cover. “You promised you’d be civilized tonight, right? But you
haven’t learned a single dance step! There’s still time, you know.
I can call for Kuman immediately.”