The Mansions of Idumea (Book 3 Forest at the Edge series) (31 page)

The general was ready for that. “The Creator
knows who the authority on the world is, and He knows we’re bound
to the authorities.”

“I disagree, sir. The authorities weren’t
selected by the Creator. They selected themselves. They don’t even
know who the Creator is.”

Joriana couldn’t take anymore. She opened her
eyes and gripped his arm. “Perrin, please—”

But her son was unmoved. “My wife suggested
earlier that we’re here to find the truth and live it.”

Mahrree gulped and regretted her words.

“And I must agree,” he continued. “It’d be
far worse to go against the Creator than against the
Administrators. They may have temporary power over my body, but the
Creator’s displeasure with me could last a thousand years.”

“Oh, Perrin!” Joriana exclaimed. “Why are you
so dramatic? Most of what the Administrators do is
fine
.
There are only a few things here and there that are worrisome. Just
work around those. Think about your children!”

He turned to his mother. “I am thinking about
them. I’ve thought of nothing besides them.”

“Then don’t they deserve a father who’s still
here for them? Who can still protect them?” she pleaded. “Even if
you just act like your typically obnoxious self, with the paranoid
air that’s growing around the Administrators they may decide
you’re
a threat! And then what happens to you and to your
family?”

Perrin looked at his son and daughter. Both
of them were terrified, more so than on the morning of the land
tremor.

Mahrree hoped he wouldn’t look at her. She
was weeping quietly but didn’t want him to see it.

“Perrin,” his father’s voice had a softness
none of them had ever heard before.

Perrin forced himself to turn to him.

“Please, son. You can still do so much, and
for many people. But you have to do it
in
this system. We
need you. Just be good.”

Perrin hung his head. After a long and awful
silence he said, “I’m trying, Father.”

“Trying won’t be good enough tomorrow,
Perrin,” Relf warned. “In the morning when you face those
Administrators—”

Mahrree’s gasp was so loud it was nearly a
scream. “
What?
”

Perrin looked up and gave her feeble smile.
“Forgot to tell you. I’m supposed to meet with the Administrators
tomorrow morning. Not completely sure why, but I’m sure we’ll still
have time to take the tour of the city Mother was planning—”

Mahrree was sure she went whiter than the
plastered walls around her. Her biggest fear in the world was about
to happen tomorrow morning—

She couldn’t breathe anymore. She gasped and
gasped again, trying to make her lungs move—

Perrin pushed away his chair and rushed to
the other side of the table. He reached her just as panicked tears
trickled down her face and one of her gasps finally produced a
sob.

“Now, now, none of that,” he said as he
crouched next to her and pulled her into him. “Remember, the walls
don’t have ears. They know nothing about the nonsense we spout.
It’s just our nature. We simply like to argue. Every family does,
right? This meeting—it’s only a formality, I’m sure. No, don’t cry,
don’t cry. Brisack said it would be a friendly ‘How are you doing’
type of thing. They probably just want to go over the menu for next
week. Usually three or four Administrators come to The Dinner.”

Mahrree whimpered at the news and slumped
into his arms.

Jaytsy sighed. “They’ll be coming to the Shin
Family Dinner War of 335. That should keep them entertained.”

Chapter 10
~
“Just smile and nod. Smile and nod.”

I
t was late when
Perrin finally entered his bedroom to see his wife sitting in bed
reading a book she’d borrowed from the study. She was sure the look
on her face showed she wasn’t too engaged by
Mace Tactics of the
Middle Age
.

“Your father settled in for the night?”

Perrin nodded from the door. “I think he’s
going to struggle getting out of that bed of theirs, but he’s
insisting. I told Mother to come get me if he gets stuck and can’t
roll over.” He offered her half a smile.

She returned only a quarter of it, which
really didn’t amount to anything. “Can you tell me what happened
tonight, at dinner?”

He leaned against the door frame. “A family,
each one with opinions and tempers to match, ate a meal and had a
few words. Typical, I’m sure.”

“There was nothing typical about it!” she
burst out. “And as for the walls not having ears? Oh, they do!”

“You mean Kindiri and the others?” He
shrugged that away. “They didn’t hear anything.”

“Oh, really? Did you even
see
how pale
Lieutenant Riplak was when you brought him in? For a young man so
naturally brown, he was shockingly white. When you told him you
needed help moving your father, I’m sure he thought he’d be moving
a corpse with your long knife coming out of his chest. He was quite
relieved to realize he just needed to help get him to a sofa in the
gathering room so he could recline while enjoying his cake.”

Perrin frowned. “I thought Riplak seemed a
bit reluctant when I retrieved him from the servants’ eating room.
The others also seemed rather nervous—”

“Because he wasn’t the only one worried!”
Mahrree told him. “As soon as you left with your father, Kindiri,
the maids, and two of the stable boys peered through the door,
likely wondering how many more bodies needed to be carted out.
Kindiri seemed genuinely surprised we were all upright and talking
normally, but she asked me later why I’d been crying.”

“Well, your eyes were rather puffy about that
administrator business.” He continued more rapidly when Mahrree
reddened with rage, “But I’m sure they didn’t hear what we
said—”

“They heard the shouting!” she demonstrated.
“And when men with blades shout, bloody things are sure to
follow!”

Perrin blinked. “I’d never pull a knife or a
sword on you,” he said, slightly hurt. “And my father rarely
touches his long knife, and wears his sword only for show.”

“But
they
don’t know that, do they?”
she gestured in the direction of the kitchen. “Besides,” she said
more softly, her frustration being replaced by her true worry.
“That’s not what I meant. What happened with
us?
We’ve had
our squabbles, but I haven’t felt so angry at you since before we
were married.” She refocused on the book, fighting back tears.

Perrin sighed and walked over to sit on the
bed, but couldn’t find any space. “You know, you are allowed to
move some of these pillows. I can’t understand the purpose of
them.” He scowled as he sat down. “Make the bed look cluttered, and
then no one sleeps on them? Waste of cloth and feathers. Some poor
old naked goose somewhere—”

“Perrin,” Mahrree interrupted more boldly,
and set down the shockingly dull book. “What’s going on with you
here in Idumea? I feel like I hardly know you.”

He opened his mouth to make another smart
diverting remark but closed it again. “I don’t know. Had a talk
with my father while you were out earlier. He’s convinced we’re
supposed to move here. Of course you heard him try to make me
promise in front of the whole family that I would. Sneaky old
wolf.” He inspected his boots.” I guess . . . I guess I just
reverted back to using you as my reflection. I’ve been arguing in
my mind all afternoon while Peto and I wandered around that absurd
arena, then I threw those arguments at you to see what you’d say.”
He finally looked up at her with apologetic eyes.

She nodded but said, “You promised you
wouldn’t do that again, remember? The night after we got engaged
you said you’d always be honest with me.”

He took her hand and rubbed one of her
fingers with his thumb. “You’re right. I did. And, to be fair, I
was
honest tonight. A lot of those ideas were mine. It’s
just . . . I feel like I have two minds sometimes. One that can
find ways to rationalize and agree with the Administrators, and the
other that tells me I should be doing something else and that I
need to keep my distance.”

His rubbing became more forceful and Mahrree
wished that he’d remember he never held her hand. She closed her
other hand over his tense one. He immediately relaxed, to her
finger’s relief.

“So you threw at me your ideas to see how I’d
react. You know, Perrin, we could just talk about what’s bothering
you. Everything doesn’t have to become a battle.”

He slowly smiled. “But battling is what I
love best. Well, actually
arguing.
” He kissed her hand.

Mahrree sighed. “What happened at dinner was
not arguing
.” She resisted her usual tendency to give in to
him and kiss him back. “That was a full-blown, all-out fight. Worse
than the back garden sofa incident.”

He continued to study her small hand in his
massive rough one. “You know, if you’d let me teach you to hold a
sword, you could spar with me, and you’d find I’m the most
easy-going man in the world.”

Mahrree wasn’t going to be shifted off topic.
“If you’re bothered by something, talk to me about it.”

“And talking is what you love best.” He put
down her hand as if suddenly bored with it.

“You already promised once, remember? Along
with promising not to kill me?” She chanced a small smile. “And,
Perrin, I must confess, there was a moment that I felt the desire
to kill you tonight, so perhaps you better not teach me to hold a
sword. I may actually use it someday.”

Perrin returned her smile. “I’ll try to do
better to talk to you about issues that are bothering me,” he said
dutifully.

Mahrree nodded. “Good. We can start with
something easy.”

“What, tonight? Mahrree, it’s late—”

“Did you meet Cush’s grandson?”

Blandly, he said, “Yes.”

Mahrree paused. “You see, that’s not exactly
talking
. That’s just responding. Tell me . . . tell me what
you thought of him.”

Perrin rolled his eyes. “That if I need my
boots cleaned, he’s the man.”

“And . . . that’s what we call a commentary.
Closer, but not quite what we need.”

“Mahrree, come on—”

“Please Perrin? I need something to distract
me about your meeting tomorrow morning! Just . . . just talk to me
about why you were in Edge with the Densals when you were eighteen.
That shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“Obviously you have no concept of what is
‘difficult,’” Perrin groaned.

---

Morning came both too soon and not soon
enough.

Perrin had another two hours before he’d
march to the Administrators’ Headquarters near the university to
present himself to the Administrators in their weekly meeting. He
practiced the walk before breakfast as he paced from the west wing
to the east and back again.

His father, supporting himself with a crutch
and bracing himself against a pillar at the base of the long
staircase, watched his son attempt to wear a groove in the oak
floor.

“So do you know what you’re going to say?” he
asked as Perrin passed by the fourth time, merely shining up his
path.

“Not until I know what they’re going to
say.”

The urgent knock at the front door startled
both of them.

Perrin stepped up to answer it before a bored
Riplak, still stationed in the study, could leap into his first
action of the day. Sulkily the lieutenant leaned against the
study’s doorframe while Perrin did guard duty.

A small man in a red uniform stood at the
open door with a folded sheet of paper. “Lieutenant Colonel Shin,
this is for you and to be read immediately.” He bowed, turned
smartly, and left.

Mahrree, who had heard the knock, came from
the eating room and stood next to the general by the stairs. “Maybe
they’ve changed their mind,” she murmured to him. “Maybe decided to
go out for a ride in the countryside or something. You know, some
kind of Administrative retreat?”

Perrin opened the message, and his face lost
the ability to move as he silently read.

“I’m guessing it’s not the countryside,” the
general said levelly with a glance to his daughter-in-law.

Perrin didn’t look up, but cleared his throat
and read out loud. “The Administrators look forward to the visit of
Lieutenant Colonel Perrin Shin this morning, and respectfully
request that his wife, Mahrree Shin, accompany him to be presented
to the Administrators as well.”

Up until that day, Perrin thought that only
in poorly written dramas at the amphitheater did women fall to the
floor in a dead faint.

But Riplak finally got some exercise by
sprinting to the surgeon’s office.

---

“I’m sure it’s nothing. In fact, now more
than ever I’m confident it’s to go over the menu for next week,”
Perrin assured her uselessly as they walked through the tree
canopied neighborhood past the mansions of Idumea.

Mahrree gripped his arm even tighter.

He paused. “Why don’t we go back and take
Cush’s carriage. It’s all ready, and he said he wouldn’t be needing
it for the next few hours. You’re still very pale.”

“No.” She pulled him along. “The walk will do
me good. Get my blood flowing.

“Whatever blood you have left,” he
mumbled.

She ignored him. It wasn’t that bad; it only
looked bad, creating a puddle like that on the shiny floor. “You
shouldn’t be worrying about me, anyway. It’s your poor father. I’m
going to feel awful about that for years.”

“It’s fortunate you fell on his good leg.” He
patted her hand consolingly and, since providing consolation wasn’t
a frequent habit, his pat was rather firmer than it should be.
Mahrree wished he’d stop trying to make her feel better.

“The surgeon said that had you hit his other
leg you could have opened that gash again.”