by Trish Mercer
“Karna will come down later,” he smiled as she dropped a stack of gold slips. “Along with being told his pay will be increasing, he’s been told an anonymous benefactor donated this to Edge to pay for the repairs, and that it was hiding in the coach you arrived on. He and some discreet sergeants will come by later today. They’ll remove it in padded crates that will look like wheat. We’ll secure it in my office at the fort, then when all of the repairs are finished and the bills tallied, we’ll begin distribution.”
Mahrree nodded. “Good. The sooner this is out of the cellar, the better. I’ve never been sure if I’ve felt more secure knowing we had a small fortune underneath us, or more paranoid that someone would find out.” She stood and cocked her head at Perrin. He wore a strange smile. “What is it?”
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
“For what?”
“For willingly giving all of this up to help our neighbors.”
She shrugged at that. “Why should we have more when others suffer? That never struck me as right, and today, I’m feeling quite a sense of freedom about giving our excess to those who have nothing.”
Perrin studied her for a moment. “I can’t think of another woman in the world who would say such a thing.”
“Oh, I’m sure they’re out there,” she dismissed his evaluation, a bit overwhelmed by his intensity. “We just haven’t met them yet.”
After breakfast Perrin went to the fort, but he came back to the house just as Mahrree and the children were about to set out for another day of cleaning.
“If you see an Administrative messenger, alert any nearby soldier to come find me. I may be out all over Edge. Any news about the reactions of what we’ve done in Idumea, I want it immediately.”
Mahrree nodded at him with the smile she practiced for The Dinner. “I’m sure all will be well.”
“Really?” he challenged.
“No,” she admitted shakily.
He wrapped her into his arms. “We did the right thing taking the wagons. All of us,” he kissed her hair. “No matter what happens, we can face the Creator knowing we did His will. We shouldn’t fear anyone in the world. We should respect only Him. He’ll reward us in the end.”
Mahrree leaned back. “That’s really insightful. You know, I think you’re right.”
“I am, because it’s what Shem said to me last night when I told him my concerns,” Perrin confessed. “And he’s right, too. I wouldn’t change anything. Nor would I change the look on my parents’ faces as we left. It was if they remembered things they had forgotten. Idumea does that to a person. So easy to become complacent.” He held her close again and sighed. “I’m ready. I just want to know. Officer or rancher or builder? Lots of planning ahead, either way,” he chuckled sadly.
“I was thinking you’d make a good guard at Edge of Idumea Estates.”
He pulled back. “Oh, interesting. I’ll have to add that to my list.” He kissed her and left.
All day Mahrree watched the roads to the fort when she was near them, even when she knew it was far too early for any messenger. By late afternoon she was quite jittery, assuming some kind of decision had been made in Idumea, and the notice was on its way.
When she went home to prepare dinner—fortunately, it had been decided that the community dinner at the Shins would occur only on Holy Days—Mahrree was nearly dizzy with worry.
When she heard hoof beats at the back alleyway, she rushed to the door to see Shem on his horse looking around hastily as if trying to find something. Mahrree stepped out of the door to ask him what he needed.
He regarded her with an expression of intense concern, pressed his lips together, then kicked his horse into a full run out of the neighborhood.
Mahrree went back into the house, perplexed.
“Who was that?” Peto asked.
“Shem, but he didn’t stay.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. He seemed very odd.”
Jaytsy came to the kitchen. “Did I just see Uncle Shem stop and then leave again?”
“Yes, but I don’t know what’s going on. Maybe he’s looking for someone. Well, let’s eat. I don’t know when your father might be home tonight.”
“Things are back to normal,” Jaytsy mumbled.
It was in the middle of dinner when Karna, accompanied by two sergeants, came to the door. His eye was bruised and swelling shut, and clutched in his hand was an official looking piece of crumpled parchment.
Mahrree had a dreadful feeling that he wasn’t there to collect the gold and silver waiting for him in the cellar.
“Mrs. Shin,” he said quietly, “Mahrree, may I come in?”
---
What happened at the fort was retold for days, with small embellishments here and there, but with enough witnesses that the truth always came through. And the true story was so affecting it really needed no additions.
Colonel Shin had arrived in the late afternoon from inspecting the village and went up to the forward command office with its full view of Edge. He was pointing out to Lieutenant Rigoff where to work the next day when the messenger arrived. The little man in red marched up the stairs and thrust his parchment under Colonel Shin’s nose.
The colonel froze in place for a moment, took the message, and without a word walked into his private office. The messenger followed without invitation.
Major Karna and Sergeant Major Neeks ran up the stairs, having seen the messenger arrive, and looked at Rigoff for explanation. Rigoff just shrugged. They all assumed it would be news from Idumea about the caravan, and they were just as anxious as their commander to hear how the Administrators would interpret the deed.
That’s when they heard the noise.
It could best be described as a roar, as if a bear had been suddenly surprised in the colonel’s office, and it was enraged. The roar was followed by a bellow, in the form of a word: “NOOO!”
Everyone in the fort heard it.
They could even tell each other where they were when the shout made the hairs on the necks stand up.
Then the little man came out of the office, through the wall.
He landed on the large desk, unconscious, in a spray of wood and splinters.
Colonel Shin stared with animal-like ferocity at the new hole he’d created, threw down the parchment, and bolted through the door.
Karna made a valiant attempt to stop him, and received a punch in the eye that would later suggest a broken cheekbone underneath.
The colonel ran down the stairs and out through the reception area, knocking down several more soldiers and even breaking the arm of a sergeant who accidentally got in his way.
Neeks jumped through the hole in the wall and retrieved the message. As he read it his jaw quivered, and he crumpled the parchment in his hand.
“What? What happened?” Rigoff asked as he tried to help Karna stand back up.
No one paid any attention to the still body in the red uniform on the desk. They would forget about him for over an hour and remember him only when he finally came to and hobbled out of the compound, without a word to anyone.
“Where’s Zenos?” Grandpy Neeks shouted.
“Getting ready to take the next shift of guards for the night,” Rigoff said.
“No, he’s not!” Neeks threw the message and rushed down the stairs.
Rigoff stepped over the splintered wood to pick up the message. He read it, then looked up at Karna in agony.
“Well?!” Karna demanded, holding his eye with one hand and bracing himself against the wall with the other.
“It’s the General and Mrs. Shin. Guarders invaded the mansion last night.” Rigoff tried to keep his composure but failed. “Sir, they’re dead.”
---
In the stables, the sergeant in charge of horses found the reins of the stallion he just finished saddling grabbed roughly out of his hands.
Colonel Shin ran the horse out through the barn doors, leaped on to it, and spurred it into a full r
un past Master Sergeant Zenos and the twenty men mounted with him. He was out the fort gates and down the main road before the soldier with the broken arm in the reception area could struggle back to his feet.
Zenos, astonished, turned to the stables and saw Neeks come running out of the reception area of the command tower.
“ZENOS! HERE!” Grandpy was running to the supply building, and Shem prodded his horse over to meet him. He arrived just as Neeks came running out again with two rations packs.
“Neeks, what’s happened?” Zenos asked. “Where’s Shin going?”
“I’m suspecting to Idumea,” said Neeks hurriedly, checking the packs. “And you have to go with him.”
“What? Why? What’s happened?”
“You said you’re like his brother, right Zenos? Devoted solely to him?”
“Yes, of course!”
“Well if ever a man needed a brother, it’s right now.”
Neeks threw the packs up to Shem and pulled his own long knife out of his boot. He slid it, carefully but quickly, into Zenos’s boot. “He’s not himself. I know you hate carrying these, but you may need it, along with that sword.”
Zenos shook his head in confusion. “Neeks, WHY?”
“His parents, Zenos. Killed by Guarders. That’s not the colonel that just left. That’s a crazed man. Stop him, Shem!”
Zenos’s head snapped up to stare out the empty gates where the colonel had just left. Soldiers were still standing there, dazed and questioning.
“Dear Creator!” Zenos whispered. He spun his horse and kicked it into a run out of the gates.
He rode first to the Shins’ home and stopped at the alleyway. There was no sign of Perrin. Mahrree came out of the door, and, judging by the composed look on her face, it was obvious she had no idea what had happened.
Shem couldn’t spare any time. Someone would undoubtedly come by the house, so he kicked his heels into the horse.
He was going to Idumea.
---
“Major Karna—what happened to you? You look terrible! Come, sit down,” said Mahrree as she escorted him into the house. She led him to the sofa and told Jaytsy to get a wet cloth for his eye.
But he wouldn’t sit down. “No, Mrs. Shin. Jaytsy, I’m fine. All of you, please.” He gestured to the sofa and took a bracing breath as the three of them sat with dread growing on their faces.
Mahrree looked at the crumpled parchment in his hands. “It’s from Idumea, isn’t it.”
Karna nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” He tried to explain the message, but the words wouldn’t come.
“Just tell us,” Mahrree began to tremble. “I’ve been waiting for days to know.”
He shook his head, realizing he could never say the words, and instead handed the message to Mrs. Shin. With her hand quaking, she took the open message and let her children read over her shoulders.
It was only seconds later that Jaytsy screamed and Peto leaped from the sofa and ran to his room, slamming the door. Mahrree dropped the parchment, held her head with her hands and began to shake. Jaytsy wept uncontrollably next to her.
“Where’s Perrin?” Mahrree gasped between sobs.
“Gone, Mahrree,” Brillen whispered. “We think he’s headed to Idumea.”
Her headed came up. “Dear Creator—he’s going to kill someone!”
Karna shook his head quickly. “No, we’ve sent Zenos after him. He should be able to catch him by the first messenger station.”
“He’ll kill Uncle Shem!” Jaytsy cried.
“No, no he won’t!” Her mother wrapped an arm around her. “Shem will calm him,” she said firmly, as if her words would make it so.
Karna crouched and put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m so, so sorry, ma’am. I’ve posted two soldiers here for security, and four more coming down soon. We’ll keep the house surrounded for as long as necessary, and Grandpy Neeks will see to increased patrols along the forest. We’ll keep you safe. What more can I do?”
Mahrree rocked her sobbing daughter while trying to wipe tears from her eyes. She looked toward Peto’s door.
Karna nodded. “Men grieve differently, ma’am.” He patted her shoulder and made his way to Peto’s room, a bit wobbly from the throbbing in his face. He opened the door slowly and saw the boy curled on his bed with his back to the door.
Karna crept in, sat on the edge of Peto’s bed, and noticed a new ball in front of Peto’s chest.
“Your grandfather gave that to you, didn’t he. That’s good,” he said quietly. “You’ll always have something tangible to remember him by. Maybe you could put it on the shelf, honor his memory by preserving it. See it every day. Remember the kind of man he was. How he felt about you.”
Karna tried to keep his voice steady as he watched the boy’s body wracked with silent sobs. He placed a hand on his shoulder and felt him pull away slightly, but he kept his hand there. Peto needed to feel some kind of touch.
Karna didn’t feel he knew him well enough to hold him. He wondered if Zenos should have stayed and if he should have chased down Colonel Shin instead. But Brillen could feel his eye swelling shut and an enormous pain building around his cheek. He probably wouldn’t see anything clearly in less than an hour and would be waylaid by the headache soon after.
“You’re lucky to have such a heritage, Peto. Few men can say they had a grandfather who was High General. You’ll always carry that with you. You will always carry him with you.”
He nodded to the ball, even though he knew Peto couldn’t see his movement.
“You keep that safe, and someday you can show your grandchildren what your grandfather meant to you. What he gave to you.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you,” Peto whispered.
Karna took that as his signal to leave. He reluctantly stood up. “You let me know if you need anything, your mother, your sister. I’ll be available anytime.” He paused. “I’ve sent someone to get your Grandmother Peto. I’ll come by later and stay the night on the sofa,” he decided. “Just so someone’s here, along with the guards.”
Peto nodded.
Karna shut the door quietly behind him.
The ball rolled off of Peto’s bed, but that wasn’t what he had been holding. An envelope of sturdy parchment was clutched to his chest, as if pushing it there tightly would heal the gaping hole, but it seemed to fall in. The weight of the envelope was tremendous.
Now, he alone in the entire world knew that the envelope existed, and what the words were on the parchment inside. He hadn’t realized how much of it his grandfather had carried until now.
Now that he was alone.
Relf’s dream about the greatest general in the world really had been for Peto Shin.
Why?
Chapter 22 ~ “This really isn’t in my nature, and I’m very sorry about this, but--”
Shem Zenos rode faster than he ever remembered, barely seeing the surprised looks of soldiers and citizens as he dodged and weaved through the dinner time congestion of Edge. Soon Edge was a cluster of buildings growing smaller behind him.
He tried to think what he would do, what he would say when he finally caught up to Perrin. He had glimpsed the look in his eyes as he sped past him out of the fort, and Neeks was right: he was murderous. Who his target was, Shem couldn’t even imagine. Maybe the first unlucky man that crossed his path.
Shem didn’t want it to be him, but he would be a better target than anyone else. At least Shem would have a fighting chance.
He squinted into the distance to make out Perrin’s figure in the light of the setting sun. The trees that lined the roadside were casting too many shadows to see distinctly, but Shem was sure it was Perrin ahead of him, passing a slow wagon.
Mathematical formulas began limping into his brain, weakened from disuse and neglect. He remembered when they were first taught to him, and he came home to complain to his father.
“It’s stupid,” he had said. “Look at this problem, Papa. Two men are riding horses. One is traveling at one hundr
ed paces a minute, the second is traveling at one hundred ten paces a minute. If the two men leave from the same destination, but five minutes apart, how long will it take the second faster man to reach the first slower man?
“When would I ever need to use this?” he had grumbled.
Shem now laughed mirthlessly inside. When would I ever need this? Right now. Perrin will probably reach the first messenger station and change horses before I get there.
Papa had laughed at his question. He was always laughing, when he wasn’t teary-eyed. The sweet and simple man had only two emotions.
“I don’t really know when you’d use this,” he had said. “But if they’re teaching it, it must be important.”
“But you didn’t learn it,” Shem had complained. “And you get by all right.”
“I didn’t learn it because Archedes just came up with it,” Papa laughed again. “He’s going to hold a lecture on it and some other theories he’s developed. You’re blessed to have such a brilliant man as your upper school teacher. When he does his lecture on displacement, I plan to sit in the front row. I’m always losing things.”
Shem almost smiled at that memory.
“That’s not what displacement is,” he had told Papa. His father knew cattle, and that was about it. Granted, he knew just about all there was to know about cattle, from what part of the day they liked to eat clover to exactly how long each cow would wait to be milked. But beyond cattle?
Young Shem would then sigh and shuffle off to stare at the formulas. The same ones he was trying now to recreate in his mind.
But the formulas faded away and Shem could think of nothing but his own father.
What would he feel if the message had come about him? Papa always greeted Shem with the standard, “Where have you been, and why have you left me here all alone . . .” whenever he came home to visit. True, it was with a smile, but there was loneliness in his eyes as well. His father fully supported Shem and his work, and understood why he had to be gone so far, but still Shem ached each time he left him.