The Mansions of Idumea (Book 3 Forest at the Edge series) (57 page)

“He did,” Mahrree acknowledged, “but then we
talked and I explained to him all that he misunderstood. Did you
also hear that we walked home happily arm-in-arm?” she said in a
teasing tone that turned accusatory. She wasn’t used to having so
much of her personal life exposed. “Or did your ‘extra eyes’ leave
us alone once they saw us hiding in the trees on the campus and
kissing like lovesick college students?”

Brisack blinked rapidly, taken aback. “Uh . .
. I don’t exactly employ spies, Mrs. Shin,” he stammered. “I just
wanted to make sure you’re all right.”

She smiled at him in a mollifying manner.
“I’m fine. And so is my husband. He’s a very passionate man, Doctor
Brisack, and never does anything half-hearted. He’s wholly devoted
to me and to Edge. In fact, I don’t think the villagers will ever
realize just how much he loves them.”

Brisack swallowed and nodded, surprised by
Mahrree’s adamancy. “Of course, of course,” he said, then added,
“He’s also married to a very passionate woman.”

“Works nicely, we think,” she said and,
hoping to put an end to the conversation that was growing
increasingly uncomfortable, she used Relf’s tried and true
diversionary tactic. “Would you like to take something home with
you? As you can see, we have plenty of food left over—”

Sensing their discussion was over, Brisack
smiled thinly. “Actually, I was asked to bring back a slice of cake
for Nicko Mal, which has already been set aside for me, but thank
you anyway, Mrs. Shin.” His eyes darted to the side and noticed his
wife approaching, as well as Perrin returning from saying goodbye
to the kickball director. In a whisper Brisack said, “I see our
lesser halves returning to us.”

“What was that?” Mahrree asked, sure she
didn’t hear him correctly. But Brisack had already put on a new,
albeit pained, smile on his face for his wife.

“Well Mrs. Shin,” Mrs. Brisack said
pleasantly, “sorry to have left you, but I haven’t seen my friend
there since she moved to Orchards, and I simply had to compliment
her on the shoulder bag. Exquisite! It was to live for! So many
jewels! Hint, hint,” she elbowed her husband again. “Did you see
it, Mrs. Shin?’

Something in Doctor Brisack’s smile turned
brittle.

Mahrree smiled pleasantly. “I’m sorry, I
didn’t. I supposed I don’t have much of an eye for such
things.”

“Ah, well,” said Mrs. Brisack, patting her
arm. “We’ll train you yet in what to notice. Lovely evening, dear.
Wonderful to meet you, but it’s late and we must be going home.” To
her husband she said, “Have you Nicko’s cake?”

Doctor Brisack sighed and answered dully,
“Waiting by the door.”

Perrin, who had returned, shook Administrator
Brisack’s hand. “Thank you for coming, and I mean it about that
fishing trip.”

Some distant light sparked on again in
Brisack’s eyes. “I think I’d like that. Thank you both for a most
entertaining evening.” He fixed his gaze so earnestly on Mahrree
that she felt her insides squirm. But then he was off, pulled away
by his wife as if he was an indolent school boy and she was his
long-suffering teacher.

Perrin put his arm around Mahrree again as
the Brisacks made their way to the line of those waiting to say
goodbye to Relf and Joriana, including the Cushes and Thornes who
were in discussion with the Shins.

Finally alone with her husband, Mahrree said.
“Brisack seems to be a decent man. Although,” she added slowly, “he
seemed a bit odd at times, as if he was doing more than just having
a conversation, but also carrying on some kind of analysis which
kept getting in the way. I felt like I was being evaluated.”

Perrin shrugged. “Probably. I heard he has
studies and research going on all the time. Now,” he turned to her,
“you need to think carefully. Did you say anything,
anything at
all
to anyone that might get back to Gadiman? I have no idea
how long he was here or why.”

“I don’t either!” Mahrree said in a panicky
tone, remembering the scowling man’s face. She thought for a
moment. “I did speak for a minute to the Administer of Science
during dinner, and suggest that he send a group to the west to
investigate the etchings about Mt. Deceit.” She cringed. Now that
she thought about it, that was a rather forward thing to say.

“And?” Perrin nudged her.

“All he did was stare for a moment, then
asked me to pass him the butter dish.”

Perrin smiled partway. “Figures. What else?
What did you say to Brisack when Gadiman was there?”

“Just that we would help with ideas for their
parenting guide,” she remembered. “And that I teach teenage boys. I
think Gadiman may have heard all of that.”

Perrin considered. “No, I think you were safe
there as well. He seemed rather disappointed there was nothing else
said, so I think you passed the test, Mrs. Shin. We can let you out
in public! Now, I hate to ask this, but have you seen Peto
lately?”

“He found a few boys and went outside with
his new kickball. I really don’t want to know the condition of his
suit, but he seemed happy enough. Why?”

Perrin nodded toward the door. “That was the
director of kickball in Idumea my father wanted me to meet—Mr.
Flamafoul.”

“I’m beginning to smell something foul,” she
murmured.

“Apparently our son has ‘natural ball
handling skills,’” Perrin said.

Mahrree frowned. “But they don’t
handle
a ball in that game. They
footle
it.”

Perrin sighed. “He spent the last hour in the
back garden with Peto, tutoring him.” He looked significantly at
Mahrree.

She returned the look. “Why was he even here,
may I ask? Could it be that your father invited him?”

Perrin growled quietly under his breath.
“Flamafoul told me boys can start playing for the professional
teams at age eighteen.”

“When they should be starting at the
university,” Mahrree pointed out.

“But many boys start training with the junior
league here earlier, around age
sixteen
,” he emphasized.
“Their families even move to Idumea to be closer to the
trainers.”

Now Mahrree growled. “And not too
coincidentally, in two years our son will be sixteen.”

“And should we happen to move here,” Perrin
said in annoyed undertones, “Flamafoul would be most interested in
seeing our son participate. Wants our whole family to be his guest
in his reserved box at the arena next week for the opening matches.
He wants to introduce Peto to the team.”

“This is all your father’s doing, isn’t it?”
Mahrree hissed. “He’s getting Peto to come here so you’ll have to
follow. Ooh, and just this evening I was thinking how much I’ve
grown to like Relf Shin!”

Perrin chuckled mirthlessly. “They’ve been in
Idumea too long. Underhandedness is rather a way of life here.”

Mahrree caught Relf’s eye in the distance,
and the High General had the decency to look a tad uncomfortable
under her glare that said,
I’m on to you, old man.

“And I’m afraid Jaytsy’s already been won
over to Idumea,” Mahrree murmured.

“Nah, she’s not,” Perrin flimsily waved that
away. “Nothing here to interest her . . .” His voice dropped off as
he saw the Thornes take their turn to say good night to the
Shins.

Jaytsy stood next to her grandmother,
beaming. Lemuel took her hand and kissed it good night.

Perrin grumbled.

Mahrree grumbled back.

Versula waved a subtle farewell to them—more
so to Perrin than Mahrree, she suspected—and Qayin Thorne tipped
his cap which he had just put on to go out into the night. Perrin
and Mahrree plastered on their Dinner smiles and waved back.

Lemuel was saying something quietly to Jaytsy
which required her to lean in very close to him. Whatever he
whispered into her ear made her blush. She covered her mouth and
giggled as he bowed slightly before following his parents out the
door.

Mahrree exhaled and felt her husband bristle
next to her. “I have to admit, I’m not too keen about a match
between those two right now,” she said in a low voice. “I just
don’t like the parents interfering that way. My mother tried to get
me involved with so many different men—”

Perrin looked at her askance. “Really?
Who?”

“Oh, I don’t remember anymore. The point is,
she’s just too young. I’ll see if I can find out from Jaytsy what
she thinks of him. Maybe I’m worrying about nothing. But I still
think something like this needs to be her choice, not the choice of
her future in-laws.”

Perrin went positively rigid next to Mahrree.
“In-laws,” he sneered.

She patted his arm. “Perrin, I know you’ve
said this before, and even though it was an interesting evening,
and I met some intriguing people, and the food was delicious, and
the musicians exceptionally talented, and this dress feels amazing,
and you look fantastic as usual, and our daughter had the time of
her life as did, apparently, our son—it’s just that when I saw
Jaytsy in the arms of all those young men, and now whispering with
Lieutenant Lemuel Thorne, what I really want to say is—”

“You hate Idumea?” he guessed.

“Yes!”

“That’s my wife!” he said, hugging her.

When the last of the guests finally left,
General Shin, looking pale and exhausted even though he’d been
sitting on the sofa for the last several hours, said to his son, “I
think you made an impression tonight, even if it was only with the
women. I overheard many wives say to their husbands, ‘Why didn’t
you ever hold the baby?’ There may be some men less than happy with
you.”

“The only thing that matters,” Perrin said to
his father, “is if
you
are less than happy with me.”

“Of course not, son,” Relf smiled. “Once
again, you’ve exceeded my expectations. Now, had I known I could
have held a baby to get out of dancing for all of these years, I
would have done it, too. Someone would have had to show me which
way was up, though.”

“Now, High General,” Mahrree said sharply,
her arms folded but her eyes throwing daggers, “what was this about
a certain kickball director? Evaluating my son? For playing in
Idumea?”

Joriana sent Mahrree a look that claimed,
I wasn’t part of this
, while her husband solidly held
Mahrree’s gaze.

Relf cleared his throat and said, “I’m a bit
peckish, Mahrree. Would you mind getting me a plate of something to
snack on? There’s still quite a bit on the tables over there . .
.”

Chapter 17 ~ “What we need is
someone who has a special talent.”

S
hem sat at the
large forward command desk checking the list left for him by
Grandpy Neeks. With a piece of charcoal he put a mark next to the
last name at the bottom of the list and smiled.

“You got them all, Sergeant,” he declared.
“Everyone’s reserves, along with the fort’s, are safely gathered in
at the second schoolhouse. Good work.”

The staff sergeant standing in front of the
desk nodded and smiled. “Thank you, sir. It was a bit of a race
toward the end there, but before dark fell we got the last of it
in. And we have a dozen soldiers guarding it, just as Karna
ordered. Edge’s food supply is secure.”

Master Sergeant Zenos sat back and sighed. “I
can’t tell you how relieved I am. Major Karna and I have been
worried—”

“Everyone’s been worried, sir,” the sergeant
confided. “I thought the villagers would be reluctant, but with
those pesky teenagers sneaking around—”

Shem nodded. “At least now we have one of
them
on our side.”

The sergeant grinned. “Private Hili has been
most helpful, sir. Major Karna never would have rounded up that
last group without Hili leading us to their hiding spots in the
marshes.”

“Glad to see the soldiers are recognizing the
value of Private Hili now,” Zenos said.

“Indeed. I never doubted him,” the sergeant
proclaimed, and Zenos grinned. The staff sergeant was one of the
few who believed Poe was sincere in his desire to help the fort,
while dozens of other soldiers who had the pleasure of chasing him
down and throwing him into incarceration a couple of years ago
watched him dubiously. But not anymore.

Now everyone in the fort trusted him too,
especially since he informed them that he spied fifteen men he knew
from Moorland sneaking over to Edge. They were intent on finding
Edge’s food reserves, Hili learned from an old acquaintance who
didn’t realize Poe had recently switched sides. Shem had sent out
his newest recruit in his old clothes to find out what was
happening in the marshes. Poe came back with the news that
apparently no one wanted gold and silver anymore, but the price of
a bag of sugar or a jug of mead in Quake and Mountseen was now
equal to that of a small house.

“Never realized food would become so
valuable,” the sergeant said, reading Shem’s mind. “But now that
it’s all under guard everyone will sleep better tonight. Well, at
least those that aren’t on the night shift like us.”

Shem chuckled with the sergeant, feeling for
the first time in weeks a little bit of weight lifted from his
shoulders. He opened his mouth to respond, but a voice coming up
the stairs and exclaiming loudly stopped him.

“So to add insult on top of injury—or maybe
it’s just another injury on top of injury,” Major Karna complained
as he reached the top of the stairs, “it’s now snowing!” He took
off his cap covered with a white layer, and dropped it on the desk
in disgust. Bits of snow fell off and melted in wet clumps on the
wood. “As if Nature hasn’t handed us enough troubles, it decides to
see what else it can throw at us!”

“I don’t believe it,” Shem breathed as he
balled up the snow from the top of the cap.

“All the years I’ve been in Edge, I never
remember a snowfall this late.” Karna put his hands on his waist
and looked around the office for who might responsible for the
storm. A corporal in the corner copying reports to be sent to
Idumea cowered in innocence.