The Mansions of Idumea (Book 3 Forest at the Edge series) (35 page)

Out the doors, down the steps, and through
the grassy fields they marched in heated silence, then up over to
the campus and to a large stand of trees.

Perrin finally released her in the small
clearing in the middle of them, then looked around him and above to
make sure no one was near.

Mahrree sat worriedly on a stump and waited
for him to slow his pacing around her.

“I can’t think here,” he muttered as he
passed in front of her.

She was about to suggest they go somewhere
else, but realized he wasn’t talking to her.

He walked in a circle around her stump,
scanning the area as he did so. “I can’t focus, I can’t see
clearly. I can’t separate the two. I feel like I’m
suffocating.”

Mahrree twisted to watch him walk and mutter.
He looked down, around, at her, toward the Headquarters building,
and down again. He reminded her of a restless bobcat a neighbor had
once caught in his garden and caged to release to the forest. It
was so agitated they fed it mead until it was drunk, just to be
able to pick up the cage without it thrashing wildly about. Mahrree
pressed her lips together and, for the first time in her life,
wondered where she could buy some mead.

She fingered the fancy parchment in her
hands, aware that she was crinkling the edges of the gold-gilded
and black-scripted acknowledgement. She didn’t need to be awarded
some meaningless scrap. She took care of Edge because Edge was her
home, and it was the right thing to do. It didn’t matter if the
parchment wrinkled in her nervous hands. She already knew exactly
where it was going once they got home: on the same shelf as
Perrin’s Officer of the Year awards and his numerous commendations
from the Administrators. She could slip this in between them where
it, too, would never again see the light of day.

She’d never reveal it to her mother, either.
Hycymum would devise a way to encase it in wood and glass and
insist on having it displayed on their mantelpiece. Then she’d also
insist that their home wasn’t grand enough for such a piece of
parchment, but that the Edge of Idumea Estates had a few very large
homes available that could accommodate it.

As Mahrree watched her husband circle and
mumble, she was tempted to tear the parchment in two and shove it
under a rock. Maybe the parchment, or her, or both of them were
contributing to his mild insanity.

“I can’t continue like this. I can’t decide
who to be,” he continued mumbling. “I’ve got to get out of here,
but I can’t go anywhere. Just work around, just work around. Can
still do good here, just work around . . .”

Mahrree sat in silence. This was hardly the
time to point out that ‘talking’ involved two people exchanging
information. She wasn’t sure if she preferred this madman murmuring
around her to their shouting matches. As she listened to him
muttering, she wisely abstained from commenting.
See?
she
thought, I can keep quiet when needed.

He stopped unexpectedly and stared just
beyond her. His mind was working on something that didn’t reach his
mouth. A flurry of ideas seemed to pass across his face as his eyes
shifted erratically. The shifting slowed, the flurry seemed to die
down, and he released a deep breath.

Finally he dropped to his knees and stared
dully at her hands on her lap, holding the parchment. “You were
right. You were absolutely right. If anyone heard more than what
you said, it would’ve been Gadiman. And no one likes to pay much
attention to him anyway.” He slumped to a sitting position.

Mahrree reached out and touched his shoulder
experimentally.

He startled her by grabbing her hand, kissing
it, and looking into her eyes. “I know I’ve said this before,
but—”

Mahrree smiled and said it with him. “I
really hate Idumea.”

He laughed softly before sobering. “I’m so
sorry. I said nothing to assist you back there. Then again, you
didn’t really give me an opening.”

Mahrree looked down guiltily. “I think I was
a little too excited by the power in that room. I felt it and
grabbed it and started babbling just like you feared I would.”

“But you didn’t babble,” he assured her. “You
did very well. Most people feel the weighty influence of those men
and lose their nerve. Honestly, I thought you would too, but you
didn’t.” A smile came across his face. “You were quite articulate,
even with me jabbing you. Once I got over the shock of what you
were saying, I thought to myself, That’s my wife!
My wife
,”
He kissed her hand again.

Mahrree grinned proudly, but her smile soon
faded. “Perrin, did I
really
just accuse all of the
Administrators of being no better than the kings?”

To her surprise, Perrin’s face became lighter
and he grinned. “Yes, my darling wife, I think you really did! Not
in those exact words, to be sure, but still.” He was smiling
broadly now. “I can’t take you anywhere, can I?”

Mahrree covered her face with her hands,
letting the parchment drop to the ground. “Oh, no . . . what have I
done?”

“As I said before, I don’t think they
really
heard it.” He pulled her hands from her face. “And if
they did, they’ll think nothing of it. You’re just a simple wife
from a little village.
You know what I mean
—don’t give me
that look. You just stabbed in the dark and hit something. They’ll
think it’s ironic or funny and forget about it by midday meal. You
really are something else, you know that? What that something else
is, I’ve yet to figure out.”

That made her smile and even chuckle. He was
her husband again—wholly, completely hers.

“I’ve noticed something about the way we
work,” she said. “When you rant and rave, that’s when I’m stunned
to silence.” She made a circling motion around herself to remind
him of his behavior a few minutes ago, and Perrin shrugged
apologetically. “And when I can’t seem to shut my mouth, that’s
when you shut yours.”

“If I don’t say anything it’s because I’m
surprised that
you
are,” he said. “Besides, one of us has to
keep a cool head about them.”

“You keep a cool head?” Mahrree scoffed, and
then reconsidered. “Actually, you do, quite often. Except in that
corridor down there. You hit the back of my head! Don’t you think
it’s been through enough today already?”

He stood quickly, bent over her, and kissed
the back of her head. “I’m sorry,” he said as he kneeled down in
front of her again. “Better?”

Mahrree scrunched her nose. “That’s the best
you can do?”

“Of course not.” He grinned. “Besides, I
always wanted to do this here. I think I was jealous of all those
students years ago.”

He rose up on his knees, leaned in to her . .
. paused and surveyed the trees above them . . . and, convinced
they were alone, he kissed her long enough for someone to run to
the mess hall and retrieve the hard bread.

They walked back to the mansion a while
later, talking and laughing easily. Perrin had the parchment folded
in his jacket pocket and out of sight. In some ways it was almost
possible to like Idumea, Mahrree decided. They’d faced their
biggest fear and walked out of there commended. No one would
remember her words, and she was perfectly fine with that.

She was still the anonymous wife of Perrin
Shin, and she’d never have to see any of those men again, except
for a few maybe at The Dinner. But they’d be more interested in
talking to the High General than to her, and then they could go
back home to Edge and live happily ever after.

“I almost forgot,” Perrin broke into her
thoughts, “when we go out this afternoon with my mother I need pick
up some new uniforms.”

“Why? What’s wrong with this one?”

“Well, they changed the color to a deeper
blue, you see, and since I need some new insignias on the jacket
anyway, I might as well just get the whole package.”

“Wait a minute . . . the Administrator said
‘Congratulations
Colonel
Shin’, didn’t he?” She squeezed his
arm.

“Still has to be approved, you know,” he
smiled almost bashfully. “But I’ve never known an Administrative
directive being overturned by the army.”

“And who is to approve the promotion?”
Mahrree smiled back, already knowing.

“The High General and his Advising General. I
have a feeling that’s why Cush was here this morning, to officially
sign the papers.”

“Time for the brass buttons now, right? You
realize that with this promotion you’re one step closer to the next
ranking.”

He sighed. “I could be a colonel for many
years still. No one’s promoted to general in less than two
years.”

“Not even Relf’s son?”

Perrin grumbled.

“You realize now you really do have to go to
that dinner, Colonel.”

“I’m praying for another land tremor,” he
murmured as he looked sideways at her. Abruptly he stopped walking
and focused his gaze just beyond her.

“I nearly forgot,” he whispered. “How could I
forget?”

Mahrree looked around, perplexed. “Forget
what, Perrin?”

He nodded down a road she hadn’t noticed.
“Feel up for taking a short detour?”

Mahrree turned to what direction he was
facing and gasped. “What in the world is that?”

“Take one guess.”

She shook her head. “If your parents live in
the second largest mansion in the world, then that must be the
largest!”

It filled the entire road, ending it several
hundred paces down from them. She hadn’t noticed it on their way to
the Administrative Headquarters because of her preoccupation, but
now she couldn’t image how they missed it. They passed a few
exceptionally large houses, nearly as grand as the Shins and
formerly the homes of the kings’ family, advisors—and in one case,
a favored mistress, as Mahrree remembered—that lined the road
leading to the mansion. But as Perrin led Mahrree down one side of
the road, she could barely take in the other houses he told her now
belonged to some of the Administrators. All she could see was
the
mansion.

Mansion wasn’t a big enough word. It was
crafted out of white stone so precisely cut and fitted that the
first stone cutters certainly got plenty of experience trimming
thousands of rocks. Larger than the Shins’ home, it stood three
stories high, and was more than two times deeper than the Shins,’
Perrin told her. There were only a few narrow windows facing the
road, however, which Mahrree thought peculiar. She also could see
just the front of the building as they approached the tall iron
gates locked in front of it. The rest of the building was obscured
by mature trees and thick shrubs.

“Beautiful, but cold,” Mahrree muttered to
her husband. “Can’t really see in or out, can you?”

“That’s the point,” Perrin told her.

They stopped in front of the gates, still a
few hundred paces away from the house. The four soldiers manning
the gates, two inside and two out, stared past them as if they were
simply curious squirrels.

“Can’t get any closer without an invitation,”
Perrin whispered to Mahrree. “But this wasn’t what I wanted to show
you. Come with me.”

He gently pulled her away from the gates, and
Mahrree could feel the eyes of the guards following them, because
even squirrels may be a threat.

Perrin followed the high stone wall that
created the perimeter of the compound, enclosing a massive area.
The barrier turned a corner, they followed it, and soon they were
in the relative privacy of the dense bushes that hugged the wall.
Perrin glanced around to make sure no one was watching.

“Well?” Mahrree asked.

“Do you realize what this is?” He patted the
stacked and mortared rocks.

“A wall,” she answered lamely, looking up to
see the top of it about twelve feet high.

“But do you remember what this
kept
in
?”

“Kept in . . .?” Then she mimicked her
husband five minutes earlier. “I nearly forgot! How could I
forget?” She spun to look at the barrier and sighed. “Querul’s
servants!”

“Slaves,” Perrin whispered.

Mahrree nodded. “Those thirty-three servants,
kept behind this stone wall, for three generations! Oh, Perrin—I
haven’t thought of them for years.”

“Nor have I,” he confessed. “One of the
greatest travesties of the reign of kings—that they kept their
servants locked behind these walls and ignorant of the world around
them—and I didn’t remember until just now.”

“I think the world wants us to forget,”
Mahrree said. “There were only a few of us that knew, too. My
father heard about it from the man who helped teach them how to
function in the world again. You knew it because your grandfather
told you about his liberating them.”

“Never forget,” Perrin sighed sadly. “That’s
what Pere told me. ‘Perrin, never forget them, how they were
imprisoned by those who claimed to protect them.’ I’m so sorry,
Grandfather. I haven’t even told my children about them.”

“We’ll remedy that,” Mahrree assured him. “As
soon as we have some quiet moments. Pere’s probably the one who
turned you to see this again.”

Perrin nodded. “I used to be obsessed with
this wall,” he told her as he ran his hand along it. The stone here
wasn’t chiseled into perfect squares, but were ordinary rocks
mortared together. While some seemed to be cut castoffs from the
construction of the mansion, most were just round rocks the size of
melons, and likely gathered from the rivers.

“After my grandfather had told me about the
liberated slaves,” Perrin continued, placing his hands along
different rocks as if looking for holds, “I came here to see this
wall that kept them in. I was about twelve and shorter then, and it
actually looked large and intimidating. But when I came to Command
School, I walked by the wall again. Mahrree, look at this—the rock
bulges out in many places. It’s the same on the other side.”