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

by Trish Mercer

  “And with Shin’s daughter as my daughter-in-law,” Thorne continued, “well, considering how securely she has her father under her influence, she could be quite valuable. After she’s been tamed, that is. Did you see them at dinner?”

  “No, I missed that, fortunately.” Gadiman watched the two young people dancing in and out among other couples. Lieutenant Thorne was far more poised on horseback, but somehow his stiff movements drew a giggle from the Shin girl.

  “Well,” Thorne bristled, “she was most forward and overly confident. Even though she was at the table behind me, she disrupted my explanation as to the particulars of increasing security at the Trades gold mine.”

  Gadiman’s nose wrinkled. “How so?”

  “No one could hear my conclusion over the laughter from the Shin table!”

  “Laughter?”

  “It gets worse,” Thorne groused. “Those seated around me at Cush’s table wanted to know the source of the amusement, as did those at General Shin’s table. So the High General invited his granddaughter to stand up and retell her story for everyone!”

  Gadiman, used to eating alone at the same inn each night, tried to discern if this was normal behavior or not. “So, she . . .”

  “Got up!” Thorne exclaimed. “Went to the head of her grandfather’s table, and told everyone in very lively terms how something called ‘The Strongest Soldier Race’ was run last year. Apparently up in Edge they’ve turned the running training into something of a contest between Colonel Shin and an enlisted man.”

  Gadiman, who understood about officers and enlisted men’s places, cringed in revulsion.

  “Not only that,” Thorne continued, “Major Karna is the one who sets up the race each year. And Cush was just speculating that it was time to give Karna his own command!”

  Gadiman sniffed in disappointment, which seemed appropriate.

  “So it seems,” Thorne droned on as he watched his son dancing with the presumptuous teenager at the other end of the room, “Karna sets up challenges for each stretch of the race. One stretch required Shin to deliver a chicken.”

  “Why?”

  “Part of the challenge,” Thorne scoffed. “Had to deliver it for someone’s dinner.”

  Gadiman shook his head. “He could have easily said he ate it. It was delivered, and was someone’s dinner—his!” He beamed at his own idea.

  “It was a live chicken!” Thorne said loudly in Gadiman’s ear.

  “Ah,” said Gadiman flatly.

  Then, “Wait, that’s ridiculous.”

  Then, after yet another moment, he ventured, “He ran with a live chicken? What, tucked under his arm? Do chickens enjoy that?”

  “Apparently not,” Thorne sighed. “Part of the amusement of the story. It seems that chickens have strong pecking and clawing instincts when someone sprints them away from their coops. The other supposedly humorous part of the story came when Miss Shin described the enlisted man’s challenge—a man she called initially ‘Uncle Shem.’ He was to navigate his way through a pasture filled with several dozen she-goats—”

  “Simple enough,” Gadiman said, growing bored with the conversation.

  “—into which half a dozen lonely billy goats had been released only moments before? It seems that while the colonel was dealing with a combative chicken, Uncle Shem was being mistaken for an attractive female by the largest billy goat.”

  Gadiman tried to imagine the scene. “I don’t get it.”

  “No,” Thorne exhaled loudly. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Wait a minute,” Gadiman turned to the colonel. “What’s an Uncle Shem?”

  “Took you long enough to ask. He’s your gift for the evening,” Thorne said, his eyes still focused on his son and his dancing partner. “Although I don’t see why you deserve it.”

  Gadiman saw the pieces in front of him, but struggled to put it all together.

  Thorne noticed. “You really should’ve been at The Dinner. That’s when you would’ve picked up on that tasty morsel I just gave you. The colonel had to remind his daughter—rather too kindly, I thought—of how the man should be referred to in such a public setting. ‘Uncle Shem’ is a master sergeant, and a favorite of the Shin family. Shem Zenos has been like their uncle since the children were very small. He used to be their baby tender.” Thorne gave him a deliberate look that dared him to not be so dense as to not figure it out.

  Gadiman’s eyes grew large. “Baby tender? Wasn’t the baby tender once suspected to be—”

  “You, my dear Administrator, are as slow, and obvious, and useful as mudslide coming down the Idumean River. Do watch yourself,” Thorne breathed. “It’s your sloppiness that held you back in the past. Don’t let it be your downfall now that things are growing interesting again.”

  Gadiman squirmed. He knew Colonel Thorne knew things, but he didn’t know if Qayin knew whose idea the failed attempt on High General and Mrs. Shin’s life was many years ago. He fidgeted more at the assumption that he was “sloppy.” The failure was not his fault! It was someone else’s. It was . . .

  “Name was Shem Zenos, you said?”

  “Do you know it?”

  “I will.”

  Thorne’s son and the Shin girl twirled past them.

  Thorne smiled encouragingly to the couple, and then his smile slid into a sneer. “She even acted out the tale,” he recalled. “It seems that all Shins enjoy audiences. And her father just grinned at her, as if she was something remarkable. Almost as insufferably as he looked at his wife.” He cleared his throat in disapproval. “A man can’t think properly when under such influences.”

  Gadiman nodded in agreement. The lieutenant and the girl stepped past them again in a wide circle. “And still you approve of this?”

  “My father’s a most excellent horse breeder,” Thorne said. “He always told me one can’t be too particular about what kind of package the bloodlines come in. Perhaps the coloring is off, or the height isn’t quite what you’re looking for, but if it contains the right blood, don’t discount it. It can still produce a remarkable offspring.”

  Gadiman shrugged, not entirely following Thorne’s meaning as he eyed the Shin girl. “How old is she, twelve?”

  Thorne chuckled mirthlessly. “No, just turned fifteen.”

  “Girls get married at that age?”

  “Usually a little older. I married Mrs. Thorne when she was seventeen.”

  “So he has a couple of years to . . .” Gadiman wasn’t sure of the word. It had something to do with the law or—

  “Court her, yes,” Thorne grumbled the pointless phrase. “Even though he’s seven years older than her, I don’t see that as a hindrance. I’m almost six years older than my wife. Still, he should go to Edge while Shin’s there. He met Shin a few days ago and seemed to respect him enough.”

  “Where’s Colonel Shin, anyway?” Gadiman asked, looking at the crowd.

  “Not dancing. He’s over there, by the doors to the terrace. The man looking utterly wretched with the fake smile on his face?” Thorne snickered. “This isn’t his kind of thing. He suffered through dinner well enough, but as soon as the tables were removed, you would’ve thought they’d killed his favorite horse and served it for dessert. For the opening dance, he ducked out to the back terrace and left my in-laws to begin the music.” Thorne sniffed. “He returned with two corporals and two girls, and pushed them to the dance floor. Said he understood it was his job to ‘get the party started.’ That’s not behavior fitting for a future general.”

  “Agreed,” Gadiman said, pretending he understood the appalling breach in protocol Colonel Shin had committed by not beginning the dance himself with his wife since his father couldn’t.

  Gadiman spotted the colonel on the other side of the Hall standing stiffly a few feet away from anyone else. He seemed to be trying to find his daughter, while unconsciously patting the new brass buttons on his uniform. Gadiman couldn’t tell if he was making sure they were still there or trying to cover them
up.

  “Two corporals you say? Here?”

  Thorne exhaled in disgust. “He invited more than a dozen enlisted men. From the corporal who got them through the traffic when they arrived, to the sergeant who led the search for his father. And when Snyd showed up with Sergeant Oblong, Shin sent out an entire platter of food for him and his private.” Thorne shook his head. “Those kind don’t belong here.”

  But then he chuckled coldly and folded his arms. “I think the only thing that would make Shin more wretched was if someone tried to get him to dance. I don’t know where his wife vanished to. She seemed to avoid the floor just as quickly. Versula was intending to coerce Shin into asking her to dance, but she’s busy with somebody’s child somewhere.” Thorne sounded disappointed. “To think, some people even brought their young children. Yes, it’s for the families, but seriously—look at Colonel Nelt’s son over there, the lieutenant? See him trying to figure out why his wife can’t calm down that baby?” Colonel Thorne shook his head.

  But Gadiman’s eye was caught by Colonel Shin’s movement. He was heading straight for Lieutenant Nelt and his wife who were sitting at a small table near a wall. Gadiman nudged Thorne, but the colonel was already watching.

  Colonel Shin walked up to the young couple, smiling broadly. They were so involved with trying to calm down their squalling baby that they didn’t notice his presence until he put a hand on the lieutenant’s shoulder and said something to him.

  The lieutenant looked at his wife in surprise, and she looked back at him, stunned. Her dark complexion flushed even deeper, while her husband’s brown skin seemed to pale to almost as light as Shin himself.

  Asked them to leave, Gadiman thought to himself. Finally the colonel wields some power—

  But to his astonishment—and judging by the gasp from Colonel Thorne, to his surprise as well—Colonel Shin lifted the baby from his mother’s arms. Then he did something that made half of the officers in the room open their mouths in dismay: he rubbed noses with the infant.

  The tiny child stopped crying and stared at the strange large man holding him.

  Colonel Shin nodded to the lieutenant. Reluctantly the young officer stood and took his wife by the hand. She went to protest to the colonel, but he just smiled and waved her off, then turned the baby so he wouldn’t see his parents walk to the dance floor of the Grand Hall.

  Colonel Shin carried the baby, still staring transfixed at him, over to a set of unoccupied chairs in a quiet corner by the open doorway to the terrace.

  Nearly all of the eyes in the Grand Hall stared at him and conversations quieted. Several other people from adjoining rooms opened for the evening came to see what was causing the silent commotion. Even a few of the couples dancing strained their necks for a glimpse.

  Colonel Shin was oblivious to it all. He sat with the baby on his lap and watched as he bat clumsily at the colonel’s medals. Shin removed the largest, shiniest medal, secured the pin in the back, and handed it to the little boy.

  Gadiman and Thorne stood speechlessly. Finally Thorne choked out, “The Medal of Valor! He was the youngest recipient, and now that baby’s drooling on the Medal of Valor!”

  General Aldwyn Cush came up behind the two men and put his arms on both of their shoulders. With a laugh he said, “I think Colonel Shin is looking forward to becoming a grandfather, wouldn’t you say?” He squeezed his son-in-law’s shoulder meaningfully. “I think we can help him out. Don’t you, Qayin?”

  Mrs. Versula Thorne sidled up to them and took her husband’s arm. “Goodness, Qayin, look at Perrin. That baby is drooling all over—”

  “The Medal of Valor!” Thorne said again, this time with contempt.

  Mrs. Thorne shook her head. “What do they do up there in Edge?” she said in silky tones. “Soldiers taking care of babies?”

  “Well, if what Miss Jaytsy said at The Dinner is to be believed,” Cush said, “Uncle Shem?”

  Mrs. Thorne nodded once. “Yes, I caught that too. A master sergeant baby tender. You would think Perrin’s son would be more eager to join the army with an upbringing like that.”

  The four of them, along with most of the guests in the Grand Hall and on the staircase who weren’t dancing, watched as the colonel beckoned to his son. He spoke to him for a moment, then the small teenage boy nodded and went to the food tables against the opposite wall.

  He took a plate and eyed the contents of the leftovers table thoughtfully, taking items from different trays. His mother, still keeping watch, pointed out a few suggestions which her son added to the plate. The song ended and the lieutenant and his wife hurried back over to the colonel who was completely absorbed in holding their little boy and squeezing his chubby brown cheeks. Their baby, still content with gumming the medal, didn’t notice their arrival. The colonel gestured for them to go back to the dance floor.

  The Nelts looked at each other hesitantly then went to the floor, casting backward glances at their son on the colonel’s lap.

  Mrs. Cush joined her husband, daughter, son-in-law, and Gadiman. “Why, isn’t that charming!” she gushed when she saw Colonel Shin smiling down at the baby now leaning against his chest. “So that must’ve been his plan. Joriana said he refused to learn to dance and insisted he’d find another way to prove he was civilized.”

  General Cush chuckled, but Colonel Thorne gave her a disagreeing look. Versula Thorne simply raised a precisely plucked eyebrow.

  But Gadiman sneered. This behavior was most unexpected, and most undignified. He’d heard of people in the north “going local,” and now he had a perfect example in front of him. This was a mental condition Dr. Brisack should’ve been watching, not Gadiman.

  The Shins’ son had now returned and his father was pointing to various foods, shaking his head at some and nodding to others. From a distance it seemed as if they decided to give the baby a hard cracker. The baby grabbed it eagerly, then alternated between gumming the medal and chewing on the cracker. Colonel Shin grinned at the baby and finally raised his head to see the looks of amazement of his guests. His grin hardened as he eyed the crowd.

  Everyone immediately turned back to their conversations, stealing only occasional glances of the colonel and the baby. It wasn’t difficult to imagine what they were talking about.

  But Gadiman continued to watch Colonel Shin. Relf Shin wanted him to become the High General of Idumea? How could a decorated nursemaid hope to achieve High General?

  Gadiman noticed Mrs. Shin approach her husband and hold out her hands to take the baby.

  “Finally!” Thorne muttered. “Enough of that behavior.”

  But Colonel Shin shook his head and gestured to his wife to come closer. She bent down and he whispered something in her ear that was amusing enough that she laughed and he winked at her. She kissed him on the head and left.

  “Unbelievable!” Thorne hissed to Gadiman. “How long is he going to make a fool of himself?”

  A colonel from another village hesitantly approached Shin. He looked up from the baby, smiled, and patted the chair next to him. The colonel sat cautiously and Shin said something to him that made the colonel chuckle. He put a shielding hand over the medals on his uniform and shook his head.

  Gadiman leaned against the wall to watch the colonels talk. The Thornes and Cushes were now engaged in a conversation with the Administrator of Science, giving Gadiman time to focus on Colonel Shin.

  Shin seemed to keep one eye on his visitor and the other on the baby, occasionally running his hand over the child’s fuzzy black hair. After a few minutes the visiting colonel patted Shin on the back and left him. Doctor Brisack was waiting for the empty chair and approached.

  At last, Gadiman thought to himself. Evaluate the instability of the man, and let me go home to a quiet evening—

  But the inane doctor was all smiles, and Gadiman slouched against the stucco wall discouraged because his night wasn’t about to get any shorter.

  Shin nodded to the chair next to him and the Administr
ator of Family Life happily sat to chat. For two more songs, Colonel Shin hosted guests in that manner while entertaining the baby.

  Gadiman failed to see what he should be picking up from this, except that the young couple had a free baby tender.

  Most of the guests in the room had become accustomed to the scene playing out in the corner, but when the baby began to wail while the colonel spoke to an elderly widow, every eye looked at the colonel while trying to appear not to do so. He seemed concerned as he stood the baby on his lap. The infant’s chubby legs couldn’t yet fully support him, but the colonel looked into his hollering mouth. The musicians were playing an exceptionally loud melody, so that the baby’s parents didn’t hear the cries.

  The colonel sat the baby back down on his lap, then did something that made even the most battle-hardened soldiers cringe—he deliberately put his thumb in the baby’s mouth and rubbed his lower gum. The baby grabbed his hand and chomped down, but the colonel only winced a smile and nodded.

  Gadiman was completely at a loss for an explanation. “Disgusting!”

  The elderly woman patted the colonel on the arm with an approving smile and shuffled off. The baby leaned against Colonel Shin as he stood up, now with his knuckle in the baby’s mouth. The musicians began a slower song, and the colonel repositioned the baby and began to rock.

  Gadiman’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He became even more perplexed when Joriana Shin came to speak to the colonel and started swaying in time with her son, without a baby in her arms. She left to have a word with the ensemble’s conductor who nodded toward the colonel.

  More people approached Colonel Shin with a brief comment or a lengthy discussion. He frequently paused in his conversations to reposition the baby or his finger. By the end of the second soothing piece, which the musicians seemed to play specifically for the colonel, the baby was asleep.

  The young lieutenant and his wife came up to the colonel, flabbergasted. The mother held out her arms but the colonel shook his head, held the baby closer, and gave her a threatening look. She beamed at him, took her husband’s willing arm, and headed back out to the dance floor.