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

by Trish Mercer

  Gadiman didn’t understand any of it. But now he knew the Shin family was odder than he could have imagined.

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  For the next two hours Colonel Shin, Baby Tender of The Dinner, entertained his guests over the sleeping infant cradled in his brawny arms.

  Mahrree looked over at him frequently and grinned. He always loved babies. As handsome as he was wielding his sword, she always thought he looked even better snuggling a child.

  By the time the tired musicians ended for the evening, Lieutenant and Mrs. Nelt, looking exhausted themselves, finally relieved the colonel. Mahrree watched from a non-interfering distance as Perrin gingerly placed their sleeping son in his mother’s arms and stroked the curly black hair on his head.

  “Once he cuts that tooth, he’ll be a different baby. Until the next one starts to emerge. But he’s a good little boy. Enjoy him. Babies tend to grow up.”

  The baby’s mother tiptoed to kiss the colonel on the cheek.

  Perrin smiled at her, a bit bashfully, which Mahrree thought was completely adorable.

  “Sometimes it just takes an experienced set of arms,” he told Mrs. Nelt. “Years ago in the village green an elderly grandfather took a few minutes to calm down our infant son for us. I’ve never forgotten him and always wanted to repay that service. Now remember, Lieutenant,” Perrin said in a playfully stern tone to the young husband, “take her out of the house every few weeks. You both need the time alone. And since I’ll be leaving soon, I’m afraid you’ll have to find a new baby tender.”

  The lieutenant chuckled. “Or maybe just get transferred to Edge?”

  “Not a bad idea! I could use a tactful scribe to keep me out of trouble.” He saluted the young family away.

  Mahrree finally found her moment to join her husband now that most of the guests were leaving. It was the first time she dared approach him.

  During the dance he’d been flanked by officers and Administrators who so intimidated Mahrree that she kept to the food tables, signaling occasionally to the servants to fill them again. They really didn’t need her directions, but she needed something to do where no one of importance would expect anything significant of her.

  She also kept a close eye on her daughter who danced at least five times with Lieutenant Thorne. Watching Jaytsy was supposed to have been her father’s task, but it seemed everyone in Idumea wanted a few moments with Perrin Shin.

  Mahrree had been completely unprepared for that. She’d expected the two of them would huddle in a corner all evening and make impolite comments about the clothing they saw. She thought she’d only have to endure The Dinner alone, seated a little ways down the table from him.

  But that was only the beginning of Colonel Shin, Most Popular Man at The Dinner. At the head of the three dinner tables sat the most powerful men of the evening: General Shin at one, General Cush at another, and Perrin uncomfortably at the third, smiling tightly at the guests who looked to him to begin the eating and conversation.

  To her surprise, Mahrree had been seated next to the Administrator of Science who thought nothing much of a little woman from Edge, and engaged in only the briefest of conversations with her.

  Not that she didn’t try to be polite to the man who had decided on several occasions that it was too dangerous to send expeditions to Terryp’s ruins. She was quite cordial when she asked if he’d be sending anyone north to research the devastation of the land tremors.

  Hutchins merely curled a lip and said, “Enough destruction here to investigate.”

  When she told him Deceit had been smoking, and hinted that may be strong evidence that perhaps the volcano was connected to the tremors, his scowl became more pronounced and he said, “So have suggested others with more knowledge.”

  Then, after great consideration as to the potential harm of the question, and concluding that Hutchins wouldn’t be able to do much with it, she suggested, “Terryp, in his travels many years ago to the eastern ruins, found carvings describing what happens when a volcano erupts. Perhaps it may be a good idea to send a team in search of those etchings that told the history of Deceit?”

  Hutchins only stared at her as if she were a pile of rocks that was growing duller by the minute—or maybe a pile of rocks would have been more intriguing to him—and eventually said, “Pass the butter, Mrs. Shin.”

  And that was the extent of Mahrree’s dinner conversation.

  Across the table Jaytsy fared better, seated between two older women, and far away from any handsome young men. Mahrree was sure Perrin had something to do with that.

  Peto was next to his grandmother at the table headed by General Shin, who managed the night without pillows propping him up. A few times Mahrree was able to glimpse Peto between the heads of other guests, and saw his grandmother elbowing him to eat slower and less noisily.

  The meal seemed to take all night, but it was likely only an hour. At least she could watch her husband since few conversations were sent her way. He soon relaxed in his position and was easily addressing everyone within the sound of his voice. There was decidedly more laughter from their table than from the other two, especially when Perrin engaged in good-natured arguments with Jaytsy, which delighted everyone around.

  Jaytsy really was quite radiant that night, Mahrree was reluctant to admit as she watched her daughter who seemed much older than barely fifteen. There was something in her eyes, exactly like her father’s. How they could be so dark but sparkle so bright, Mahrree would never understand. She was far more poised than Mahrree expected, and Mahrree wished she had some of that confidence herself. When Jaytsy got up, at her grandfather’s insistence, to explain to everyone about the Strongest Soldier Race, Mahrree was in awe. Jaytsy commanded the room—and their laughter—with the kind of ease Mahrree used to pretend for herself. If only debating were still allowed, Jaytsy would have been astonishing on the platform in front of the village, just as her father had been.

  So for most of The Dinner Mahrree sat in silence, trying bits of food here and there, and not really tasting any of the fantastic dishes set before her. The fact that she was seated next to an actual Administrator made her perspire, but she soon realize Relf was right; none of the Administrators were really interested in her, but in evaluating the health of High General Shin. Administrator Hutchins kept leaning toward Mahrree so as to have a better view of Relf. At one point Mahrree found herself staring at the man’s balding head instead of the roasted lamb on her plate, and privately mused how similar the two appeared.

  Fortunately High General Shin was as robust as ever, eating well and talking loudly. Joriana beamed at her husband, relieved and triumphant that another Dinner was moving along remarkably well. Mahrree was happy for them both, but frequently checked the sand clock on the mantle over the fireplace to see just how much longer this was going to take.

  A few times Perrin caught her eye during dinner as if plotting a way to get her to speak, but she’d barely shake her head and beg him with her eyes to not say anything to her. So he’d direct his conversations elsewhere while Mahrree just watched him and marveled.

  Everyone seemed to enjoy lingering at the tables and eating from the trays of extraordinary dishes that were replaced with precise regularity by the staff Joriana had hired. Twenty servers hovered near each table ready to take platters emptying with food only to replace them with something even more delectable.

  Mahrree wished she could’ve joined them. She would’ve preferred to wash the mountains of dishes and chat with the workers rather than smile stiffly at people who regarded her with expressions that said, You really don’t belong here, dear.

  She didn’t belong in the kitchen, either. She’d tried, though.

  When everyone got up from the tables and wandered outside to enjoy the warm evening, a small corps of soldiers marched in and moved the chairs to the sides of the hallway while servants swifted away the dishes and linens. That’s when Mahrree picked up a platter and carried it to the kitchen, fully intending to find an apro
n to make herself useful.

  “Oh, no you don’t, ma’am!” an older woman her mother’s age chided. “You’re a host. The host takes care of her guests, not the dishes.”

  “You don’t understand—my mother-in-law is the host. I’m just . . . helping,” which was her original excuse for coming to Idumea.

  “Well, I don’t want you!” the woman declared. “See that list? For the past eighteen years I’ve been perfecting it. Each of the seventy-three servants hired for this evening has a specific job on that list, and will be paid for those jobs. You take any of their work, they won’t be pleased with you. And neither will Mrs. Joriana Shin. Because no one—”

  Mahrree repeated it with her. “—wants to disappoint Joriana Shin. I know,” she sighed. The woman took her firmly by the shoulders, spun her, and sent her out the door.

  Already the soldiers had removed the borrowed tables to wagons waiting to convey them back to the garrison. The Great Hall was transformed almost instantly, and opened for dancing as the guests drifted back in to the sounds of the musicians tuning their instruments.

  So Mahrree stood next to the two mansion tables pushed to the side of the Hall, as if it were her duty to occupy that space and oversee the consumption of the leftovers and desserts waiting on them.

  From there she watched her husband pace nervously for the first three songs, smiling tensely, and nodding here and there. While a small part of her wanted to try whirling around the floor in his arms, she knew he’d then be obliged to hold other women in his arms, and that thought made her fists clench. She hoped that wedging herself between the tables signaled she wasn’t a part of the dancing either. The last thing she wanted was the arm of an Administrator around her.

  A few times during those first songs Perrin snagged equally nervous enlisted men and paired them up with shyly waiting young women. But the rest of the time he desperately looked for ways to be needed elsewhere so that he wouldn’t be obligated to ask anyone to dance.

  Then he stole that baby, and everything changed.

  “Does everyone in the world know Perrin Shin?” she murmured to herself when she realized there was a line of a dozen people waiting to talk to him. And for each person who came up to him, a light of recognition flashed in his eyes, and he greeted yet another person he knew long ago.

  It was unsettling to realize he had a life she knew nothing about. Already there had been so many secrets revealed about his past, and now she felt a bit guilty for underestimating his importance all these years. Apparently he was much more than merely the commander of the fort in the next-to-smallest village in the world, as he always reminded her. His influence and changes to the army over the years had benefited the entire world, and it seemed everyone wanted to shake the hand—or at least pat the back since the hands were occupied—of the officer who had improved the world’s ability to deal with its most persistent enemy. Maybe it was because everyone also saw him as the future High General of the world.

  Mahrree’s mouth went dry whenever that thought strayed into her mind. She was a very ill fit for such a man. But she knew that, at some point in the evening, she’d have to stand next to him. Until then, no one paid her any attention. Halfway through the dancing she noticed that a silver tray of tiny tarts from Gizzada’s matched her dress. So, hoping to feel a connection to him and his back restaurant, she held it up for guests. Not one person looked her in the eyes as they took the tarts. She was little more than another piece of furniture, which was just fine by her.

  But now that the dancing was over and guests were slowly leaving, Mahrree edged her way over to her husband. His eyes glowed with that familiar spark, because he had no idea how inadequate she was for him, and she loved him all the more for that.

  She smiled broadly at him. “I see your plan failed. Holding a baby didn’t keep everyone away! But at least the wives think you’re civilized.”

  He didn’t get a chance to answer, because Mahrree noticed more people were approaching to speak to Colonel Shin, and when she recognized a few of them, she steeled herself in preparation.

  Coming with General Cush and his wife was Colonel Qayin Thorne and a tall, beautiful woman who, Mahrree noticed, had been eyeing Perrin all evening. Then again, everyone had been eyeing Perrin all evening.

  But her, just a bit more so.

  Behind them was another approaching couple, but Mahrree didn’t pay too much attention because the willowy blonde was headed straight for Perrin. Mahrree took a small step closer to her husband as the stunning woman stopped right in front of him.

  He blinked at her without recognition, then his eyes grew large. “Versula!”

  She smiled coyly and dragged her long sleek finger across the faded scar on his forehead. “I see you still have a way to remember me.”

  “Every time I see my reflection,” Perrin chuckled with his teeth clenched.

  “I think about that often,” Versula Thorne said as if speaking in code. “And wonder.”

  Mahrree squinted ever so subtly. Versula Cush Thorne also regarded Mahrree as just a piece of furniture, but this time that bothered her.

  Colonel Thorne, standing next to his wife, nodded curtly to Perrin. “Colonel,” was all he said in greeting. He ignored Mahrree, who apparently wasn’t a threat.

  Perrin nodded back. “Colonel Thorne.” He reached out and pulled Mahrree close to his side. “Colonel, Mrs. Thorne—may I present my wife, Mahrree.”

  Mahrree looked up into the perfectly carved face of Mrs. Thorne and felt Edgier than she had all night.

  Versula Thorne, who finally acknowledged Mahrree with a slight smile, was even more exquisitely Idumeaic than Joriana. Her dress of light blue silk clearly had not heard of Perrin’s coverage specifications. Tightly wrapped around her girlish torso and no higher, the dress left her creamy shoulders and arms completely exposed, along with a generous dose of cleavage. Most of the women as The Dinner seemed to be firm believers in cleavage, Mahrree couldn’t help but notice. Versula’s blond hair was similarly wrapped, as if the entire of her had been put together by a highly concentrated tornado.

  Mahrree felt wholly out of place in the small crowd of people that now clustered around them.

  Mrs. Thorne was the definition of sophistication, and her husband, with his sharply defined features and penetrating stare solely focused on Perrin, was as imposing as General Shin used to be to her.

  Cush, with his substantial girth, could have been two men, especially with the authority with which everyone regarded him, and his wife had nearly caught up to him in size and influence.

  Mahrree was used to the power that accompanied her in-laws, but she began to feel as if she were suffocating. Who was she compared to this group of important people? And there were even more to meet, standing behind them, and not a table with food nearby for her to use as a shield.

  Mahrree sucked down her feelings of inadequacy and smiled at Mrs. Thorne. “It’s wonderful to meet you! I’ve heard a few stories since I’ve been here.”

  “I’m sure you have,” Mrs. Thorne said pleasantly enough, her voice even smoother than her gown. She bobbed her head toward Perrin, “but not from him. You have a very charming daughter. She’s turned a few heads this evening.”

  Perrin glanced over to the leftover food tables and saw Jaytsy still talking with two young officers and two sons of officers, each several years older than her. She laughed at something, and the young men smiled in approval.

  Perrin did not. He made a move to step away, but Mahrree caught his arm.

  “She’s fine,” Mahrree whispered.

  Perrin took a deep breath and looked at Versula with an expression Mahrree couldn’t interpret.

  “Don’t worry, Perrin,” she simpered. “My Lemuel’s armed. He knows how to take care of a young woman.”

  Perrin looked again at the little group and saw one of the young officers was Lemuel Thorne. Mahrree noticed Perrin’s boot licker didn’t seem as amused as the other three young men, but sat nearby on a
chair by the table picking at the remains of a pheasant while studying Jaytsy.

  Versula Thorne pulled Perrin’s attention away from them by saying, in a tone as rich as cream, “Quite a show you put on with that baby.”

  Perrin turned back to her again, startled as if at first not understanding what she said. “Oh, oh, that. I was just looking for a friendly face, someone who wouldn’t expect me to dazzle them with anything witty.” He smiled at Mahrree. Then he pulled her even closer to him.

  Mahrree hid a smirk. She suspected there were a few more stories she needed to hear. Versula Cush Thorne still made him nervous, and she didn’t have a stick in either hand.

  “Well, Perrin, with any luck, you can be holding another baby in just a couple of years.” Mrs. Thorne smiled, watching closely for his response.

  Perrin’s face was the very definition of bewilderment.

  “Your daughter? She could give you your own grandchild in a couple of years.”

  “Jaytsy?” Perrin said so loudly that, across the Great Hall, she stopped talking and looked over at him. She tilted her head as if asking what he wanted, and he waved her off.

  Mrs. Thorne laughed in a manner that suggested she’d practiced it to be just the right pitch, length, and tremor. “Yes, of course! Goodness, Perrin, scare the poor thing.”

  “We were nearly twice her age when she was born,” Perrin said, squeezing Mahrree’s shoulders and jostling her a bit in his earnestness.

  Mahrree chuckled stiffly. “I don’t think we’re ready for her to do anything so, so grown up. Sometimes I think we’re not really grown up yet!”

  Perrin nodded at that.

  “There’s nothing wrong with having your child early and getting on with life,” Versula said. “I haven’t missed out on anything. Just because Perrin was exceptionally slow to get around to parenthood doesn’t mean your children will be.”

  Perrin and Mahrree looked at each other, the thought never having occurred to them before.