by Trish Mercer
“Tell me, Jothan—how could I possibly sleep after what happened tonight?”
Neither of them lit a candle, but the large man dressed head-to-toe in black sat in the only other chair in the sparse room of the unlit rectory. “No one’s going to be sleeping for a while, I suspect.”
“Jothan, how much did you hear?”
“Mr. Braxhicks caught up to us. His wife was at the amphitheater and filled him in. She even sent a copy of the findings for us. I don’t know when I’ve ever seen a husband so proud of his wife.”
Yung chuckled quietly.
“She’s still safe as an unknown midwife, but you aren’t, Rector,” Jothan pointed out. “According to what we read, all rectors are officially out of a job. Who knows what Idumea will come up with next. We need to get you out of here tonight.”
Yung shook his head. “Can’t. There’s another wrinkle, because Idumea has already come up with that ‘next’. I had another visitor not too long ago.”
“Oh?”
“An assistant of Genev’s, the Administrator of Loyalty. You’re right—there’s no need for rectors, so I’ve been asked to hand over the rectory tomorrow morning to the Administrators. Likely because I was perhaps a bit too vocal myself.”
Jothan let out a low whistle. “What do they want with the rectory?”
“Who knows. Apparently I haven’t paid my taxes since I arrived, although my records show otherwise. I’m being evicted.”
“So why not let me take you now?”
“Think about it,” Yung said steadily. “They expect to find me in the morning. If I’m gone, questions will be asked. No, I’ll do my duty, say a few good-byes, then . . . take a walk. I’ll meet you at one of the usual places. Besides, it’s not me that will be a complicated vanishing.” His tone was the weight of boulders.
Jothan sighed just as heavily. “I know. It’s not as if they can suddenly move somewhere else, or even receive visitors—”
“Are they being watched?”
Jothan nodded in discouragement. “Both houses are guarded.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “We’re already brainstorming ideas, but until we hear back . . . what do you think your brother-in-law will recommend?”
Yung thought for a moment. “Right now everyone’s on high alert. But if the Shins suddenly become silent—boringly silent—Thorne and his soldiers will lose interest. Give it a few weeks and I predict the surveillance will drop off, and then you can get to work.”
“But I’ll likely have to work quickly,” Jothan mused out loud. “I have some serious qualms about this succeeding. My instinct is to do an old-fashioned snatch-and-run, but—”
“But this is a situation unlike any other we’ve ever encountered,” Yung reminded him.
His companion nodded dismally.
“No matter what you end up doing, there are going to be questions asked and people wondering and even wandering,” Yung warned him. “We have to be prepared for anything and everything. It’s going to be messy, no matter what.”
“Shem and I have talked about this before, and we’ve both come to that same conclusion,” Jothan agreed. “So many things can go wrong, and I have a hard time envisioning it going smoothly.”
“It doesn’t have to go smoothly,” Yung reminded him. “It just has to go.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Jothan said. “I just thought of another problem: who’s going to do it?”
“Why not Shem?”
“He’s due to leave tomorrow to visit his father.”
Yung scoffed. “He won’t do any such thing. Not right now.”
“But he does have to leave. He told me the other day that Thorne reminded him he’s got three weeks leave coming, and he expects him to take it all beginning tomorrow.”
Yung scratched his chin. “I might not have time to catch up to Shem tomorrow. Not even sure where he’ll be . . .”
The men sat in thoughtful silence for a minute.
“It just may have to be you,” Yung finally said. “Stand up,” he said, getting to his own feet. “Right in front of me . . . yes, I do believe you’re rather larger than him.”
“Meaning?”
“How hard can you hit?”
“Rector?”
“I mean, can you knock out a man roughly your size with one blow?”
“Of course. Most of us can.”
“Then how far can you carry a man, roughly your size, who happens to be unconscious?”
Jothan smiled reluctantly. “Perhaps a mile, as long as I’m not running.”
“Can you do that multiple times?”
“Probably. Why?” his smile grew, although he tried to hem it in. “What are you suggesting?”
“If worse comes to worst, you just may have to employ your old snatch-and-run techniques. And bring some friends.”
“Not a problem, Yung.”
The rector smiled, a bit sadly, as he looked around the dark room. “I’ve enjoyed my time here. The Densals were very good to me. I regret having to hand their home over to the Administrators, but—”
Jothan peered around too. “Yung, there really isn’t anything here aside from that rickety table, that thin blanket you sleep on, and a handful of chipped dishes. Besides, the Densals haven’t been here for years.”
“Oh, they’ve been by to visit many times.” Yung’s smiled brightened. “Until tomorrow, then . . . but Jothan—do one more thing for me, please.” He gestured to the ancient stuffed chair. “Take a seat, would you? Just for a moment?”
Jothan shrugged. “All right, but I really need to be leav—”
His sentence was stopped by the enormous cracking sound that deposited the massive man on the floor and surrounded him with splinters of wood, torn cloth, and old gray bits of fluff floating around him.
Yung grinned. “Well done. Now that I don’t even have a chair left, I suppose my time here is finished.”
---
Two other men sat in the dark office of an unlit building. The sun would soon be rising.
Chairman Mal clenched several papers in his hand, shaking. When he spoke, his tone could have ripped leather. “So NOW what?!”
Genev took an analytical breath. “Really quite remarkable when you think about it. He’s resigned—completely thrown away his career. Unimaginable,” he said with a faraway look in his eyes.
“Apparently he imagined it!” Mal bellowed to bring the younger man’s thoughts back to the room. “And he did it!”
Genev shifted in his chair. “It’s nothing out of our control—”
“That’s what my former colleague claimed once about a situation. And then he lost his life!”
Genev’s jaw firmed. “Are you threatening me?”
“No!” Mal shouted, waving the papers. “Shin is! He killed Brisack in Moorland!”
The Administrator of Loyalty leaned back, trying to appear confident, but he licked his lips nervously. “What’s he going to do now, really? He has no army to command, so he’s no threat to us—”
“You said you read our previous findings, right?” Mal seethed. “Where in those studies have you ever seen that Perrin Shin and his wife are not threats to us? When have they ever acted in a predictable manner? Surprises! Always!”
Genev met Mal’s fiery gaze. “What could he possibly do?”
The Chairman shook his head in disbelief at his new assistant’s ignorance. “Tell me, how many soldiers love Colonel Shin? How many citizens saw that ridiculous play about him? The only village it wasn’t performed in was Edge, yet the reports were that Mountseen was flooded with Edge’s citizens for the four weeks it ran there. There’s only one name more well-known in the world than mine: Perrin Shin. And now he’s supporting his wife’s protests against me and the Administrators?” He threw the papers to the ground in disgust.
Genev swallowed.
“I knew Perrin back when he was a student,” Mal continued, struggling to regain composure. “You read about that. He never agreed wi
th my theories or my tactics. Not then, not now. Do you really want to know what he could possibly do? The man you replaced promised me I would never again hear the words General Shin or King Perrin. Then he lost his life trying to make that so. You took his place and promised me General Shin would be a good idea. It now seems clear that that is not the title he wanted. Would you like to take a guess as to which title he’s going for now?”
The Administrator of Loyalty firmed his position in his chair. “I assure you, with my life, that there will be no King Perrin.”
“Do you swear it with the oath?” asked Mal severely.
Genev sat even taller and more resolute. “With the same oath all Guarders swear allegiance to you: there will be no King Perrin. Nor future King Peto. I swear it with my life.”
Mal leaned back in his chair and exhaled. “I’m satisfied with that answer. Now, what will you do to guarantee your life remains yours?”
Genev thought for a moment, an air of worry about him. “We still hold considerable power over the Shins. The young captain has thickened Mrs. Shin’s file significantly. Nearly every day she’s been teaching the impressionable and troubled youth of Edge contrary to what the Department of Instruction requires. I’ve already drafted the sedition papers, but with her outburst she’s rather convicted herself, hasn’t she?” He ventured a tentative smile.
The Chairman nodded slowly, but his countenance suggested he was waiting for much more.
Genev nodded back and coughed politely. “Then there’s the matter of the letter Captain Thorne found in the colonel’s—I mean, Mr. Shin’s—desk, addressed to Zenos. All kinds of implications in that, apparently. So many that he sent a second messenger with news about it. We can certainly find a use for that ‘death letter’ as well. That will be the final blow to Mahrree Shin should everything else somehow fail.”
“Is it still in the captain’s possession?” Mal asked.
“Yes, although I’ve told him it should be sent to us immediately. I mean, the Administrator of Loyalty told him—”
Mal cut him off with an admonishing finger point. “Don’t be sloppy!”
Genev nodded. “Sir, I believe it’s all well within our means to control,” he tried to salvage. “Perrin Shin’s ‘intentions’ must be exposed. After all, it appears he may be attempting a takeover of the Administrators,” he implied with raised eyebrows.
“Not bad,” Mal said slowly. “Not a bad spin at all. You just may survive this, Genev. But no allegations must come from either of us, nor from any of the Administrators.”
“No, of course not,” Genev said, not at all certain as to why he agreed.
The Chairman smiled faintly for the first time that early morning. “However, I know who should make the allegations.” He bent over and picked up the papers he’d thrown to the floor. “Captain Thorne’s urgent message makes some serious allegations. Given to his father, I’m sure General Thorne can read between the lines and draw his own conclusions—with a little guidance—about Perrin Shin’s future intents.”
Genev’s shoulders relaxed. “That should make General Thorne much more satisfied with the present situation. That, along with giving him the High Generalship?”
Mal sighed. “Yes, I suppose that must happen now. I’ll have to rewrite all the scenarios, toss away all the future questions. I really was looking forward to this, but now?” He shook his head and looked out the dark window. “Perrin, Perrin, you arrogant man. Do you realize how much work I’ve wasted on you this past year? What insights could have been gained? I barely have time to create new questions before . . .” He looked again at Genev. “Before what? What’s going to be tested now?”
His associate shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure yet. Have you considered just watching to see how things play out for a time?”
The Chairman pointed at him. “I leave very little up to chance! Observations should take place under carefully controlled situations. I’m not about to throw away my life’s work just because one of my test subjects continues to rebel! No . . . no . . . he’s still coming back to Idumea.”
Genev smiled thinly again. “It sounds as if you are already planning to execute something. Tell me, how do you recommend we do this, sir?”
“Not us,” Mal smiled. “This will follow under the jurisdiction of the Administrators. As you mentioned, we have a very thick file waiting to be addressed. We’ll soon have an intriguing letter written by Perrin Shin’s hand that promises additional treachery . . .” He looked off at the dark windows slowly lightening with the coming dawn. A flurry of ideas passed over his face. Scenarios, possibilities, fingers of blame, outcomes not even considered before . . .
“This may take a little bit of time to massage,” he finally continued, interlacing his fingers together.
Genev waited patiently.
“But it’ll be worth it. Perhaps our focus should be on the Administrators for a time. Group pressure is also a fascinating process to watch. Given enough arguments, time, and stress even the most resolute and determined man can be made fearful enough to completely reverse his ideals to conform with everyone else. No, I believe you just may be correct. There is still much under our influence. We are still ultimately in control, aren’t we?” With renewed optimism, he bellowed. “Get me General Thorne!”
---
As the sun rose that morning, a bleary-eyed Captain Thorne stood in the doorway of Zenos’s quarters to watch him pack. Thorne hadn’t slept at all that night, too engrossed with what he found in Colonel Shin’s desk drawer, too caught up with sending messengers to Idumea, and too busy reorganizing the fort.
But he took time to make sure one complication would be eliminated for the next few weeks while everything at the Fort at Edge improved.
“Not taking a uniform?” Thorne said.
“Don’t need it where I’m going,” Zenos intoned. He shoved his work clothes into his pack and buttoned it. “I’m ready for my goodbye kiss now.” He hefted his bag on to his shoulder and smiled frostily at Thorne.
Thorne glowered. “Three weeks you have off, soldier. Remember, I expect you to enjoy yourself. Give my regards to your father. Perhaps he’d like to see more of you? Consider a transfer to Flax while you’re there. I’ve already sent a message to the fort to look for you.”
“If they can find me, they can talk to me. Good luck, Captain. You’re going to need it.”
Shem pushed past Thorne and on to the stables. He strode across the compound, several soldiers looking at him in surprise that he wore his worst work shirt and trousers. But Shem didn’t notice as he went directly to his horse, which Thorne had already ordered to be saddled. Nearby, Clark snuffed and regarded him with questioning eyes. Shem would have to find a way to get him to the Briters’ barn. Clark didn’t belong to the fort, but convincing the fort of that when he returned might prove difficult.
Shem mounted and glanced back to see Thorne standing in the compound with his arms folded, waiting. Without a word, Shem kicked the horse and headed out the gates as the sun began to rise.
He slowed the horse to a trot as he approached the Briters’ farm, and spotted the soldier hiding in the bushes leading up to their drive. He shook his head in frustration.
“Don’t have the baby early, please,” he whispered to the quiet house as he passed. “Take care. I’ll be back. I promise.”
He continued down the road and turned to the alley that led to the Shins. Another soldier sat in the tree behind their house. Shem groaned quietly as he clucked his horse to walk slowly past so as to not arouse the suspicion of the guard. He looked askance as he passed the house hoping to see some movement inside, but it was quiet as well.
“Probably didn’t sleep well last night,” he murmured. “I certainly didn’t. But if I can’t find out what’s happening in the fort for you, I can find out something somewhere else. Just lie low. I’ll be back,” he whispered and hoped the message would somehow reach them.
At the end of the alley he turned his horse back
on to the road and kicked it into a gallop.
He had a long way to go. For the first time in his life, Shem Zenos was headed south for his leave.
Chapter 33 ~ “The quieter you both are, the faster all of this will just . . . go away.”
Mahrree had been expecting the knock on the door in the morning.
Mr. Hegek smiled painfully, apologetically, when she opened it.
“Mrs. Shin, I’m so sorry to have to do this but I was told that I needed to—” He stopped because Mahrree was already handing him a sheath of papers.
With a kind smile she said, “Last night I made complete records about each student for whomever will be filling in for me during the last few weeks of school. I wasn’t about to get much sleep anyway. I wish you guidance from the Creator, who I still believe in, Mr. Hegek. You’re going to need all the help you can get.”
Mr. Hegek shook his head, his tiny green eyes looking lost and pitiful. “Oh, Mrs. Shin. I feel so awful about this. There’s so much I want to say to you—”
Perrin appeared behind her. “But you’d be safer to say nothing,” he warned.
“Colonel—Gen—I mean, Mr. Shin—” Mr. Hegek closed his eyes briefly before saying, with as much warmth as possible, “Thank you. For everything. Over the years. Thank you.”
He tried to convey so much in those few words, and Mahrree felt it all. She blinked back tears and nodded to him, as did Perrin.
Mr. Hegek nodded back and left with Mahrree’s notes.
Perrin closed the door. “Well, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” He was already wearing The Dinner smile.
Mahrree shrugged. “So why do I feel like I was just kicked out of school?”
“Well then let’s sit down at the table and ‘Consider the effect of our behavior upon our peers!’” Perrin did his best Mr. Hegek impersonation.