by Trish Mercer
Just before dinner, Mahrree made her way to the study where the general was resting and trying to recover from his setback that morning. As she neared the open door, planning to ask him what she could bring him for dinner, she saw Relf in earnest conversation with Peto. She stopped well before the door to let them finish, and watched.
Relf was holding Peto’s arm and speaking to him in hushed tones. Peto nodded and rubbed his running nose on his sleeve.
Then Relf astounded Mahrree. He pulled Peto close and hugged him, albeit gingerly.
Mahrree stepped out of the view of the open doorway so as not to be noticed. Of all the devastation that had occurred from the land tremor, so many miracles happened, too. The High General of Idumea hugging his grandson—that had to count as one.
After what she hoped was a long enough moment, Mahrree made a coughing noise and approached the doorway. Peto was sitting by his grandfather’s bed, smiling.
“Dinner, young man! And you too, old man.”
As Peto ran for the eating room, Relf raised an eyebrow at Mahrree. “Old man?”
“Perrin referred to you that way this morning. Thought you should know,” she teased. She felt astonishingly at ease around him lately. She concluded that spoon-feeding someone who used to terrify you, and even wiping his chin because he can’t, tends to temper things.
“He was right,” the High General said analytically, “Idumea has made you irrationally brave.”
Mahrree chuckled and sat on the chair next to his bed. “No, Perrin said—”
But Relf shook his head. “That assessment was not from my son.”
“Then who said that?”
Relf looked nonchalantly at his fingernails. “Oh, just an administrator. Or two. Or three.”
Mahrree swallowed so hard she was sure Relf heard it.
He looked up at her, a wily grin forming on his face. He’d become quite at ease around her as well. “Had a briefing from the Command Board this afternoon. Three of the board members are Administrators.”
“Which ones?” She couldn’t hide the panic in her voice.
Relf’s grin widened. “Not Gadiman—don’t worry. Just board-sitting ones. But they expressed their interest in coming to The Dinner, so I’ll be sure to introduce you to each one.”
High General Shin had a truly devious soul, Mahrree thought as she whimpered and held her head.
Relf laughed a deep, gut-kicking laugh, until his ribs kicked him back, and he held his chest as he gasped in laughter and pain.
Mahrree chuckled impolitely at his discomfort. “Serves you right, old man.”
Once Relf was able to regain some composure, he pointed at her. “This city’s changing you. Or awakening you. Or something.”
Mahrree shook her head. “It’s just that you’ve never been around me for so long. This is how I always am. You’re usually at the fort by the time I get going.”
“I wished I’d known earlier how entertaining you could be,” he winked at her.
She scoffed good-naturedly. “Well I’m not here to entertain you.”
“You entertained the Administrators this morning,” he chuckled. “And I think we’ll have a record turnout of them for The Dinner this year, hoping for more.”
“Well I’m certainly not here for their entertainment either!” she declared. “I came to help you get better!”
“And you are!” He tried not to chuckle again, but held his side just in case. He slumped back against his pillows and said more gently, “You are. More than you can ever imagine. All four of you.”
Recognizing his changed demeanor, she said quietly, “If only it didn’t have to be in Idumea, General.”
“You don’t have to call me that,” he said so softly Mahrree almost wasn’t sure he said the words. “I have a name, you know.”
“I . . . I’ve always called you—”
“Don’t,” he said quietly. “Any woman—any person—who can stand in front of the Administrators and Mal and speak her mind better call me Relf.”
Mahrree grinned. “That may take some time.”
“Just don’t take too long. I’m an old man, you know.”
She chuckled. “I’m sorry again about this morning. Do you think our collision set you back a great deal?”
He beckoned her to come closer. “Just between you and me, Mahrree, I may have played up our little incident. Last night Joriana said she thought I might be well enough to dance once or twice next week.”
He shrugged at her dropped jaw.
“I was planning to ‘fall’ later today anyway. You merely provided me a more realistic scenario.”
It was several seconds before Mahrree could say anything, and when she did it was, “You are the most devious man I’ve ever met!”
He sat back and said gravely, “Thank you.”
Mahrree couldn’t help but laugh, which made her head throb.
Relf winced as she pressed her fingers near the cut. “And I was trying to catch you, but my reflexes are a bit slow as of late. Getting itchy, is it?”
“Now that you mention it,” she rubbed her fingers around the resin.
He nodded. “You better make it an early evening. You’ve had a long day and you’re a little pale yourself.”
“I’m going to bed after dinner. What do you want to eat tonight? The surgeon said you should stay in bed—”
She noticed his smirk.
“You don’t need to stay in bed, do you?”
He held up his hands. “Joriana wants to make sure I’m fully rested up, and—” He hesitated. “We probably don’t need another Shin Family War Dinner tonight, do we?” He actually seemed apologetic.
“We’re all good again. Perrin and I talked last night.”
The High General raised his eyebrows. “Talked? At a certain volume, noise travels quite well through the Grand Hall.”
Mahrree shrugged. “All right, I did yell a little at first, but then we fixed things.”
“I know you did,” he said. “I can see it in the way you two look at each other. Very good,” he added uncomfortably.
She decided he needed a new topic, and fast. “So did Peto tell you what happened this afternoon at the old garrison?”
Relf rolled his eyes. “Yes. I told him thanks for trying to get me paper, but I have plenty in my desk.”
“I’ve never seen him do something so rash. He’s really quite a cautious boy.”
“And I told him to stay that way, if he wants to live to be a grandfather himself. No, he’s a good boy, Mahrree.”
“You realize,” she said hesitantly, “that he still doesn’t want to be a soldier. I know there’s the tradition, but right now he’s—”
“I know, and that’s all right,” Relf said. “He needs to make his own decisions. I won’t pressure him.”
Mahrree nodded, and feeling the opportunity was right, decided to push it. She put her hand on top of his. “I’m glad you feel that way about your grandson. Now General—Relf—could you feel that way about your son?”
He laid his head back on the pillows and closed his eyes. “Mahrree, you don’t know what you’re asking. Perrin’s different. Perrin has a destiny.”
“We all have a destiny,” Mahrree said. “The Creator has a plan for each of us, but sometimes we ignore it because we want our own will even more.”
He opened his eyes and regarded her with a level of thoughtfulness she’d never seen in him before. “I’ve been reading about that in The Writings lately. Hogal would be proud of me,” he added with a small smile. “Sometimes we don’t even understand the plan until the plan’s at its end. Faith, Mahrree, right? That’s what we go on until we see the solution. Well, I have faith in my son’s destiny. The Creator has a plan for him.”
Mahrree would marvel at this discussion later, when she’d whisper it to Hogal and hope he was in her part of Paradise to hear that Relf Shin was voluntarily reading The Writings. She could already hear Hogal Densal’s cheerful chuckle, I knew that boy would come around
some day!
She leaned forward and said, “But do you know what that plan is, Relf?”
“Yes,” he said plainly.
Mahrree was startled by that. “Well then, can you tell me what it is?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Mahrree,” he pulled his hand from under hers and placed it on top. He grasped her fingers firmly, and she fought wincing as she realized where Perrin had learned to grip a woman’s hand like the hilt of a sword. “Just take care of my son. Promise me. He’s a special man—”
“You told me something like the first time I met you. And you’re right—”
Relf shook his head. “It’s much more than you think. He can do great things he can’t even imagine right now. But he must, must stay in the army. Promise me you’ll help him.”
It wasn’t the High General of Idumea ordering her; it was a father asking for her help. She remembered the first time she saw High General Shin and how intimidated she’d been. She could hardly string more than a couple of sentences together in his presence. Over the years she began to know him a little better, but it wasn’t until this trip that she saw him as something much more than just the General.
She closed her other hand on top of his. “I’ll do all I can to support him,” she promised.
He clenched his teeth. “There’s that avoidance tactic again. Why is it I can never get a straight answer from either of you?”
“Because you ask such hard things!” Mahrree grinned at him. “But I do promise.”
His face softened. “One more thing, if you will?”
“I will, if you make it an easier request.”
He chuckled. “Make sure he does his duty at The Dinner.”
“Ooh.” She sighed. “This is going to be a disappointing week for you, isn’t it?”
---
Two men sat in the dark office of an unlit building.
“Wasn’t she remarkable?”
Chairman Mal opened his mouth to answer, but Brisack answered himself. He’d been waiting all day to speak to Nicko. Several times in the halls Brisack beamed at him with the excitement of a boy on his birthday, knowing that later there’d be pie and presents and maybe even a pony, and could he have it now? Twice that afternoon the good doctor had stood in the waiting room of Mal’s office, checking his schedule to see if there was an opening, but both times Nicko sent him a warning squint, reminding him that such matters are never discussed except in a certain room and at a certain time, such as now—
“I mean, I expected a certain level of poise, but she was completely unflappable! From my vantage point, Shin was stabbing her so hard in the back she’ll undoubtedly have a series of bruises there, but still she rallied on!”
Mal took a breath, but was again cut off before he could begin.
“I mean, I, I, I was completely stunned. She’s in her forties? Looked barely thirty, didn’t she? The only giveaway to her age were a few gray hairs, and she certainly doesn’t look like someone who’s been ravaged by two expectings, does she? Over the years I’ve imagined what she may have looked like—just for a point of reference, mind you—but I wasn’t expecting someone so dainty, so charming—But her eyes . . . oh they weren’t dainty, were they? Like fires raging in them!”
Mal didn’t even try to interject his thoughts. He just sat back with his hands clasped on his lap while the good doctor plowed on with a faraway look in his eyes.
“Not that we have many citizens who stand before us, but I’ve rarely seen such composure in officers! She knew exactly what she wanted to say, and nothing was going to stop her. Remarkable. What an interesting woman.”
Mal waited a moment before attempting to speak. “So . . . are you about finished with your gushing about Mahrree Shin?”
Brisack blushed. “I’m, I’m sorry. Didn’t realize I was—”
“Gushing, yes. A man of your age, stature, and married status, gushing about some villager from the north.”
Dr. Brisack swallowed.
“So,” Mal began, “quite a performance put on by the Shins this morning, was what I was going to say.”
Brisack nodded, but remained silent.
“From some of my sources, Colonel Shin wasn’t as pleased with his wife’s presentation as you were, my good doctor. He forced her down to Gadiman’s office, pushed her up against the wall, and said something threatening to her before marching her out of the building. They said the look on his face was positively murderous.”
Brisack swallowed again. “He wouldn’t hurt her, I’m sure of it. He was probably just as surprised by her as I was. That’s all. I’m sure he’s over it.”
“Bears don’t easily calm down, Doctor.”
“He’s not a bear,” Brisack said. “He’s a man.”
“Men are worse, Doctor.”
“Not him,” Brisack said solidly. “I looked him in the eyes. Not him.” But something suggested he was now worried about the possibility.
Mal smiled thinly. “Gadiman was in earlier. Brought me her letters to review again. I get the impression we’ve been underestimating her. She hasn’t gone silent like so many of her fellow detractors have over the years. Instead, she’s been ripening like cheese, becoming stronger and sharper with age. She has great potential, this one. Great potential to do us great harm, if she doesn’t feel any fear of retribution or consequences.”
Brisack shook his head. “All she said today was teach the people how to take care of themselves. Even the Administrator of Education said he could think of a few ways to implement strategies to teach people how to look at a situation, put it in one of several categories, then see what kind of possibilities exist to—”
Mal sighed loudly to stop the dull drivel. “That’s not thinking. That’s plugging numbers into a formula. And that’s not what Mrs. Shin was saying. I know you heard it, too. She hasn’t come around, and she has the ear of the future High General of the world? You experiment with concoctions—do you realize what a volatile mix that could create?”
Brisack blinked. “So you’ve already decided about the High Generalship? But there have been promises made. I thought you were going to—”
“We need to keep a closer eye on her. And it’s going to happen here.”
“What about the Quiet Man? What about your plans for him to—”
Mal shook his head. “I still haven’t found a way to get in contact with him. We may have to conclude he’s gone as well. Fourteen years was too long for any man. No, Colonel Shin will be receiving yet another promotion, one that he cannot refuse.”
Brisack rubbed his chin. “I really don’t think that’s going to work. Shin doesn’t want to be here. And if his wife—”
“—finds herself enjoying Idumea,” Mal smiled, “she just may be the key to getting them both here.”
Brisack shrugged. “Perhaps. I don’t see how we can influence that though.”
“There are ways. The Dinner will show us how. Brilliant stroke of luck to still have that this year, with them in attendance. Let Mrs. Shin see what Idumea has to offer, what her husband means to the city, then you can gauge her responses and go from there.”
“Wait, me?” Brisack made a face.
“You’re going, Doctor. You and your wife. Tradition, you know. I realize you don’t enjoy these things, but it is your turn this year. Go to observe her. And Gadiman.”
Brisack barked a laugh. “Gadiman? He’s going?”
“I ordered him to. You can give me a report on how both of them behave that night. Many decisions about their futures will be made based on what you see.”
Brisack nodded once. “Then I’ll be sure to be most thorough, Nicko.”
“I’m expecting you to bring back something tasty, Doctor.”
“Of course. Full reports on all of them.”
“Actually, I was thinking along the lines of cake, my good doctor. Bring me back a slice.”
---
The Duty of The Dinner lessons began the ne
xt morning. With only seven days left to prepare, Mahrree was feeling even more Edgy as she sat at the breakfast table with the family.
But her mother-in-law wasn’t worried. “Delegation, dear. That’s how I handle the pressure—I simply don’t. I shift it to others, spread it around. I organize and assign and check on others to make sure they do their duty. I learned that from the army. Otherwise, how could I feed and entertain over three hundred people in this house?”
“So you won’t need me after all?” Perrin asked hopefully as he took another bite of breakfast.
His mother glared at him. “You’re part of the delegation, Perrin, and no one in Idumea wants to disappoint Joriana Shin. Besides, with the news that all is well in Edge, you can focus on your efforts here.”
Perrin grunted quietly. “Not completely well.”
Mahrree smiled encouragingly at him, but he didn’t return it.
The messenger had arrived last night after dinner with news from Major Karna. He reported that reconstruction was going well, no more dead had been uncovered, and no one else was missing. The first of the peas and lettuces were beginning to sprout, even in the old catapult fields. Food stores were being rationed and the fort was allocating all available grain to the villagers.
That last sentence had bothered Perrin the most. By his calculations, there were still a couple of weeks where there might not be enough food. He had sent back another message that the grain be given out in as small as amounts as possible, just to make sure it would last.
Mahrree looked down at her eggs, ham, toast and beans, and felt guilty that they were eating so well while Edge wasn’t.
Perrin sighed at his plate, likely thinking the same thing. He stood up and picked up his cap.
“Where are you off to?” his mother demanded. “I have the dance instructor coming.”
Perrin stopped. “What?”
“You need to learn the new dances! Mahrree and Jaytsy, too. Peto’s still too young—”
“Ah, that’s too bad,” Peto said with a broad grin which his father envied.
Mahrree gulped, wondering if she could claim she was too young as well.
“No, Mother,” Perrin said firmly. “I’m going to the garrison, remember? Discussing response times and recovery methods are far more important than learning how to dance,” he said with a slight shudder. “Besides, Father will be exhausted after his morning at the garrison, and I’ll need to put him on the carriage to come back home.”
Joriana shook her head. “But you have to prove you’re civilized! Not one of those wild men from the north—”
“But I am a wild man from the north,” he grinned.
“You know what I mean!” his mother snipped.
“I’ll find another way to show my civility, all right?” he promised. “Who do you have coming anyway?”
“Kuman. The cook’s older brother? He’s been teaching people to dance for over ten years now.”
Perrin shook his head. “I’m supposed to learn civility from the cook’s brother? What else does he do?”
Her gaze turned crisp. “He’s a dressmaker, too.”
Perrin burst out laughing. “A dressmaker?”
“Yes! And his wife has the loveliest clothes you’ve ever seen. He’s a clever man. Used to make suits, but realized women go through dresses much more quickly, so he changed his business. Then he realized these women wear his dresses to dances, so he became a dance instructor to further his name.”
“I almost want to meet this man. Certainly opportunistic and resourceful, I must admit. But,” he continued in feigned grief, “the safety of Edge is more important. The Administrator of Security will be expecting me in about an hour, and I have all of Mahrree’s notes to deliver.”
Joriana scowled. “Oh, that’s so convenient, isn’t it, Perrin?”
Perrin came over to kiss his mother on the forehead. “Doing my duty? Absolutely!”
He leaned over and kissed his wife briefly on the lips, paused, then dove in for a proper goodbye. At least that part of Perrin was still recognizable in Idumea, Mahrree thought as she thoroughly enjoyed his extended kiss.
Peto groaned. “There’s your civilization, Grandmother. He does this to me all the time. And Uncle Shem isn’t even here. Look at them, all slobbery and—augh, I’m still trying to eat here, parents!”
Mahrree giggled and Perrin smirked in their kiss. Just to annoy their son, they turned it into a noisy smooch.
“Ah, Peto,” Jaytsy sighed dreamily. “They’re just being cute. Get used to it, because someday soon it’ll be me and some man.”
Perrin and Mahrree both choked and spluttered, effectively ending the moment.
“What did you just say, young lady?” Mahrree turned to her daughter.
“Well, not today,” she squirmed. “Just someday—”
Perrin turned to Mahrree. “Don’t let her out of the house unattended.”
“And you make sure all the guards posted here are old and ugly,” she replied.
Jaytsy rolled her eyes. “You two are so impossible! I can’t talk to you about anything.”
Mahrree winced in apology. “That’s exactly what I used to say to your Grandmother Peto.”
Joriana clapped her hands. “Well then, let’s get started with the master checklist until our dance instructor comes. We’re going to learn how to host a great party, my dears!”
Mahrree grimaced again. “And that’s what my mother would say to me,” she mumbled to herself. Perrin was right—Idumea was most disorienting.
Perrin heard her. He grinned as he put on his cap. While his mother got up to retrieve a stack of papers, he mouthed to Mahrree, Remember, I hate Idumea.
The next hour was spent with pages of preparations spread out across the massive dining table. It was enough to make Mahrree’s head ache, but as she massaged her scalp she claimed that the throbbing was from banging it yesterday, so as not to offend her eager mother-in-law.
“I’ve kept notes on every dinner since the first,” Joriana said proudly. “And I think it was after that first dinner that Perrin convinced Relf to assign him to the new fort in Edge. He was already gone by the time we had the second one. He’d heard no one danced in Edge.” She shook her head. “I must admit, he really did seem to hate that first dance we hosted. He was anxious all evening. For someone so natural with a sword in his hands, you think he wouldn’t be so awkward with a woman in his arms.”
She turned pink and looked horrified at Mahrree, as if suddenly remembering who she was. “Oh! I didn’t mean . . . I, uh . . . what I meant was . . .”
Mahrree chuckled. “It’s all right. I’m rather relieved he was uncomfortable with other women. I’m the only one who should ever be in his arms. If you want to keep him happy about all of this, don’t push him to dance. He’ll find another way to be civil, I’m sure.”
Joriana reluctantly nodded her head. “Yes, I’m afraid that may be true. Ah, here it is—last year’s stack of notes. The best Dinner yet! Now, I delegated all of this out last season, but usually I start checking on people a few weeks before the big day. Oh dear, do we have some catching up to do. We’ll visit each place and introduce you, since this may be your duty someday.” She elbowed Mahrree excitedly, and Mahrree bit her tongue prudently. “First we’ll begin with the bakeries. I use two, one for the breads, and one for the cakes . . .”
Joriana Shin made fun of her husband’s file-keeping, but had she been a general, she would’ve needed far more than just one large cellar room to keep track of her details. Of course, Mahrree didn’t say that out loud.
But she was glad by the time the instructor arrived to give her a chance to take a breath. Later they had at least ten stops to make—maybe more, she lost track—to assure all the foods, decorations, tables, chairs, and groomers for the temporary stables were in place. She was grateful for the break to watch Jaytsy learn to dance.
Kuman arrived with his own accompanist, a portly man with a small guitar and a pr
opensity for nodding with an overly-happy grin. Mahrree thought it was good Perrin wasn’t there. He would have felt the need to fix his mouth.
Kuman was slender-built, just slightly taller than Mahrree, with curly brown hair cropped short, and a playful expression. When he saw Joriana he bowed deeply.
“What an honor it is to be in your home again, madam,” he said in an overly formal tone that made Joriana almost giggle and Mahrree almost gag. “I’ll have your gown ready by tomorrow afternoon, if you wish to come by for a fitting?”
“That’ll be perfect, Kuman. By the way, I’d like you to meet Mahrree, my daughter-in-law.” There was such obvious eyebrow raising and winking between Kuman, his accompanist, and Joriana that Mahrree stiffened in anticipation, but didn’t know what kind of ambush to expect.
Kuman nodded to the portly man who, in a flash, whipped out a cord with markings on it and flung it to Kuman.
Joriana had already stepped behind Mahrree and, strangely, began to tickle her around her throat.
“Mother Shin!” Mahrree squirmed and unwillingly laughed. “What is the meaning of—”
It was to get her elbows up, she discovered a moment later, so that Joriana could take the cord from Kuman, quickly wrap it around Mahrree’s bust, and call out a number to Kuman who wrote it down in a little notebook his friend handed him.
“Waist!” Joriana called out, and she slid the cord down around Mahrree’s middle.
“What in the world’s going on here?” Mahrree demanded, trying to catch her mother-in-law’s unnaturally fast hands.
She shouted out another number which Kuman wrote, and flipped the cord vertically. “Length!”
“Oh, this is ridiculous,” Mahrree folded her arms and pouted. “This is because I wouldn’t choose a dress, isn’t it?”
“Less than a week, madam!” said Kuman fretfully as he eyed one of her shoulders, then the next, and wrote down the number on the cord Joriana handed back to him. “My seamstresses and I will be up all night as it is with last minute alterations, and now I need to create another gown? You do have lovely shoulders, though. Have you considered—”
“Keeping them covered, thank you,” Mahrree said curtly. She turned to Joriana who was looking through some samples of cloth in a bag Kuman had brought with him. “Mother Shin, why can’t I just wear the green dress you bought me—”
Kuman blinked at her. “A dress? For The Dinner?” He sent a hopeless look to Joriana.
Joriana rolled her eyes. “It’s her first Dinner. And the dress is linen.”
Kuman sneered, as did his guitarist, and together they tsk-tsked Mahrree.
She rubbed her forehead like her husband did, and began to realize where he picked up the habit.
“This one, Kuman,” Joriana waved a swatch. “I think this would be best for the assistant host of The Dinner.”
Kuman smiled as he wrote. “Ah, Smoldering Slumber—excellent choice. One of my favorite colors.”
Before Mahrree could tell exactly what color it was, Joriana thrust it into the bag again and nodded to her gown-maker. “She likes things simple, so ankle-length, position D bodice, medium to thick clusters—”
And now they were speaking in code, Mahrree thought glumly.
“—mid-elbows, liberated turtle neckline—”
Kuman’s head popped up from his notebook. “Turtle! On a gown?”
Mahrree stared at Joriana too.
Joriana sighed despondently. “My son will insist—what can I do?” For Mahrree, she drew a line just below her throat, which made Mahrree smile. Turtles obviously didn’t have cleavage.
“And with a coverlet,” Joriana said to Kuman “for a bit of variety.”
Kuman nodded as if the mysterious coverlet was a particularly inspired addition.
“Do you have any cro-shayed available?” Joriana asked Kuman who clapped the notebook shut.
Mahrree knew most of the words, but was lost as to their meanings. Idumea was becoming more annoying by the minute.
“My wife finished up one last night that would lie nicely with the Smoldering Slumber.”
Mahrree began to wonder if gowns were supposed to sound a bit indiscreet . . . and sleepy.
“But how about her shoulders?” Kuman tilted his head and eyed Mahrree’s shoulders again with a look she couldn’t define, but one that made her intensely uncomfortable. “Perhaps a bit of cut-work?”
Now this sounded painful.
Again Joriana sighed. “My son likes them covered. To keep all of us out of trouble, keep her covered. And speaking of Perrin, he snuck off to the garrison instead of staying here to learn dance!”
Kuman shook his head sadly. “To have such misplaced priorities . . . Ah, well. But how fares the High General?”
Joriana beamed. “Doing much better. He’s hardly in the study anymore, and can spend the night in his bedroom. He’s even at the garrison for few hours today. But,” she said with a shrug, “he won’t be dancing either. Well, I still have two women for you to work with,” she beckoned the men to follow her out to the Grand Hall. “Let me call my granddaughter, Jaytsy—”
But Jaytsy was already waiting by the grand staircase, bobbing eagerly. Peto sat on the balcony wanting to avoid any introductions but hoping to see the action he could make fun of later.
“Actually,” Mahrree interrupted, “I think you best just spend your time with Jaytsy. If Perrin’s not going to dance, I hardly think he’ll be comfortable with me dancing with anyone else.”
“Ah, Mother, what will you do all evening?” Jaytsy asked.
“Watch you!” Mahrree said. “And every young man who comes to The Dinner.”
Kuman bowed to Mahrree. “Very well, the young lady it is.”
Jaytsy proved to be a quick study. So fast, in fact, that Kuman was dancing elaborate steps with her by the time the hour was over. At least one Shin would be socially acceptable, Mahrree thought.
Before Kuman left he went to visit with his sister Kindiri in the kitchen. As he went out the back door, he called to Mahrree, “Should you change your mind, ma’am, I’ll be happy to come back for you and the colonel. Perhaps the colonel will have a change of heart, a new understanding of his true duty?”
Mahrree chuckled a bit tensely. She wasn’t sure if the man was sarcastic or truly misdirected. “I think he’ll be wearing one of your gowns before that happens, but thank you anyway.”
“And your gown will be ready before the big day.” Kuman smiled politely and nodded his goodbye. “For the Shins, I handle everything myself.”
Strangely, that statement didn’t strike Mahrree as reassuring.
But other things worried her that afternoon, especially as she looked at the extensive list they were about to tackle that afternoon. Mahrree couldn’t help but wonder: where was the food coming from for The Dinner?
Many items on the menu were easy enough to get this time of year: veal, lamb, and pheasant. But others were items normally seen only at harvest time: grapes, apples, and squashes. And the fruits and vegetables weren’t just the dried ones—one of the menu items called for pumpkin baked stew.
And for three hundred people?
Mahrree didn’t work up her courage to ask until she and Joriana were preparing to walk to the first bakery.
“Where does it all come from?” Joriana repeated her question as she put on her wrap. “The garrison, of course. You have a reserve at the fort, right?”
“Yes, but not of apples! Those are gone by late Raining Season. We’re down to only wheat now.”
They left the kitchen through the middle back door, Joriana slamming it repeatedly since it never seemed to latch properly. Mahrree smirked to herself; it was good to see that even the world’s second largest mansion had its little quirks.
“We have the most extensive reserve anywhere,” Joriana told her as they walked. “The Administrators saw to it. There’s even a large cooling area in a cellar that preserves fruits and berries from one year until the n
ext. They pack it with ice and sawdust during the Raining Season and it keeps cool throughout Weeding.”
“That’s . . . that’s remarkable,” Mahrree said. “But that seems a bit much, doesn’t it? What’s the purpose?”
“The purpose?” Joriana exclaimed. “To prove that even in times of need, the Administrators can provide! That’s one of the reasons why The Dinner is held early in Planting Season when stores are usually low. It’s not just to commemorate the date King Oren was deposed, but also to celebrate that we still have so much, when with the kings we used to have so little.”
Mahrree thought for a moment. “How much grain is there?”
“A full two years’ reserve for one thousand people. Plus other essentials, like molasses, dried meats and fruits, and so on,” Mrs. Shin said proudly.
“That’s impressive,” Mahrree said, her mind figuring. “But not near enough for all of Idumea.”
“It’s not for Idumea,” Joriana said, nodding to a few women passing them. “It’s for the Administrators, their families, and the highest levels of the army.”
“Only for the leadership?” Mahrree felt a knot in her stomach again. Those seemed to come with regularity here.
“Of course. And those in the households, naturally.”
“Why no one else?”
“‘In an emergency, you need to preserve the hierarchy to prevent anarchy,’” she recited. “Giyak, the Administrator of Security, came up with that little motto.”
Mahrree felt the knot tighten. “And because it rhymes, it must have merit,” she murmured. “So the leadership survives while the populace starves?”
Joriana furrowed her brow. “It’s not that harsh, Mahrree.”
“Could that reserve ever be used for someone else?” Mahrree wondered. “Suppose a tragedy hit somewhere else, and part of the reserve was needed—”
“I know where you are going with this: all the way to Edge, aren’t you?”
“Mother Shin, we have five thousand people who may need help just for a week or two. That would be only a fraction of the reserves. Would the garrison let that go?”
That Joriana didn’t immediately answer disappointed Mahrree. She thought the solution was obvious.
“You see,” her mother-in-law began after a hesitation, “it’s not intended for regular people. Certainly you and Perrin and the children could take something back, and enough for the soldiers, but it’s not for everyone, understand?”
“No, actually, I don’t.”
She sighed. “It’s for necessary people.”
Mahrree bristled at that. “Who decides who is ‘necessary’?”
“The Administrators have.”
“Is Kindiri necessary?”
“As part of our household, yes.”
“What about her brother Kuman and his wife?” Mahrree pressed.
Joriana thought for a moment. “I’m sure some surplus could be sent quietly their way, as it could be sent to your mother.”
“What about their neighbors?” Mahrree pushed. “If a mere cook and a dressmaker and an old woman are ‘necessary,’ why aren’t their neighbors necessary? Who’s to judge who deserves life and who deserves death? Are the Administrators the Creator now as well?”
Joriana let out an exasperated breath.
Mahrree held hers. She’d done it again, gone too far.
“Mahrree,” her mother-in-law said in a strained voice, “I love you as if you were my own daughter. In fact, I don’t know how I could love you more. But so help me, you are the most vexing woman that ever was! Has anyone ever told you that?”
Mahrree winced. “Yes. Quite often. My own mother, for starters,” she said apologetically. “I blame it on my father, though. He always pushed me to ask the tough questions and find the hard answers.”
“Well when I get to the other side, I’m going to find him and have a little chat!” Joriana said sharply.
Mahrree couldn’t respond, too delighted by the idea of tall, elegant Mrs. Shin marching up to her small, slender father. She’d have her hands on her hips in anger, he’d have a finger on his lips in patient contemplation, and when she finished letting him have it, he would say something like, “So what do you think about the color of the sky here in Paradise? And did you know no arguing is allowed?”
Joriana nudged her with her elbow, and Mahrree looked to the side to see Joriana’s pained eyes.
“I’m sorry, Mahrree. I didn’t mean to bring up sad memories.”
Mahrree threw her head back and laughed. “Quite the opposite, Mother Shin! I was just thinking how much he’ll aggravate you. I’m not really sure that’s allowed up there, though, so it should be quite a meeting.”
Mrs. Shin chuckled with relief as they turned a corner down to the bakery. After a moment she said, “I’m sure there’s something that can be done for Edge. When Perrin comes home from the garrison we’ll ask him to check on the reserves tomorrow. Perhaps something could be spared, just to make things a little easier for everyone.”
“Will the Administrators allow it?”
“I really don’t know. I hope so. The garrison holds it, but the Administrators put it there. I think the one to make the final decision is Relf. It’s just one of those things, you know? The things that we just have to work around? Really, though, life is far better now than when we had the kings. From year to year you never knew what impulsive decision they’d make next. You didn’t feel it as much in Edge, but Idumea was a very unpredictable place. At least with the Administrators when there’s a change, it takes place so slowly we can prepare for it. Relf helped put that in their Resolutions, you know. He told Nicko Mal that he’d support the overthrow as long as the new government put in some kind of check on its decisions. Decrees pass only after weeks of discussions in committees and with the approval of the majority of Administrators. That was Relf’s insistence, and why there’s an odd number of members,” Mrs. Shin explained, “and why Nicko Mal has the power to decide a tied vote if someone is absent or abstaining,” she finished, obviously pleased with her husband’s accomplishments.
“I hadn’t realized he influenced so much in developing the government,” Mahrree said. “There’s nothing written in the history texts about Relf Shin’s assistance in creating the government.”
“Because the Administrators didn’t want to seem as if they were influenced by anyone else but their own ideals,” said Joriana, a bit put off by the slight so many years ago. “But everyone knows that without the full support of the army—without Relf,” she clarified proudly, “the overthrow never would’ve happened. At least, not peacefully. The Administrators owe a great deal of gratitude to the Shin family. Perhaps that will help us have some influence over them again?” She stopped walking, and Mahrree saw they stood in front of the first bakery on their list.
Debt of gratitude to the Shin family? Mahrree pondered that. Most people forget a debt within minutes—never mind decades—because that way they’ll never feel the need to repay it.
But influence? Oh, the Shin family definitely had influence. But enough?
Pushing aside those troubling thoughts, Mahrree smiled at her mother-in-law’s expectant face and addressed another more manageable worry. “So this is where you ordered the cakes, is it?”
Chapter 13 ~ “As if there are different kinds of people in the world.”