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

  “Lamb in wolf’s clothing,” Karna breathed. “All of those boys. Your son excepted, of course, sir.”

  “Thanks, Brillen.” Perrin addressed his second in command by his first name, because, after all, Brillen was his second mind, as well as his third and fourth hands, and you had to call someone that close to you by his first name. The math required it.

  And also because, even after all these years, Brillen Karna still winced slightly whenever his commander called him by his first name and Perrin simply loved to make the man squirm.

  “Peto’s so small and wiry he’d be an excellent thief,” Perrin acknowledged. “Just doesn’t have any muscle on him to carry anything.”

  “But if he did,” Shem said, “he’d be stuck in your wife’s class with all the other ‘special cases’ she gets to teach.”

  “And that’s probably the main reason he’s remained such a good boy—he doesn’t want his mother as his teacher.”

  The three men chuckled, a bit sadly.

  “At least Mahrree’s in a position to see if any of those boys are looking at Jaytsy,” Brillen said. He’d given up long ago referring to her as Mrs. Shin. Her husband ignored him whenever he did.

  “Why should they be looking at Jaytsy?” Shem burst out. “She’s only fourteen!”

  Brillen recoiled at the master sergeant’s emotion and held up his hands. “Sorry, sorry . . . it’s just that she doesn’t look fourteen. I keep forgetting her age.”

  The lieutenant colonel nodded. “So do I, Brillen. And she’s almost fifteen. Doesn’t help that she’s taller than her mother. And . . . and more, uh—” His hands moved in an odd way as if trying to demonstrate the shape of a body that alarmed him. He was still struggling to articulate—or gesticulate—what happened to her when she turned twelve. He dropped his hands in disillusionment.

  His men cringed in understanding.

  “Yes . . . all that.” Perrin sighed.

  “Better not be looking at her,” protective Uncle Shem mumbled, his shoulder twitching.

  Perrin suppressed a smile and picked up the report from Chief Curglaff again. “In a way, Brillen and Shem, I almost miss outsmarting the Guarders. Chasing down and chaining up Edge’s sons is far less rewarding and far more disturbing. Home grown criminals. I don’t like it, and I never want to get used to it.”

  “Agreed,” Brillen whispered while Shem nodded.

  “So,” Perrin said breaking the quiet moment, “have the new duty rosters ready, Zenos?”

  “Right there, on the corner of your desk. I put them there before Curglaff visited.”

  Perrin picked up the pages he hadn’t noticed before and smiled faintly. “You already put the soldiers on patrols again in the village, hadn’t you?”

  “It’s Planting Season again, after all. Weather’s warming up, so our lizard-like thieves will be coming out of their slumber. We’ve got 250 soldiers itching to get out and do something.”

  “Very good, Shem.” Perrin handed back the duty roster. “Just continue like that for the next two and a half seasons, until it gets cold again and the boys go back into hiding.”

  “Yes, sir,” Zenos smiled and stood up. Leaving the private office of the commander always reminded the men to adopt a more formal bearing. “Anything else, sir?”

  “No, thank you, Master Sergeant,” Shin said, getting up too. “I need to make my daily sweep of the village. Can’t put it off any longer. Some of those new shopkeepers with the Idumean goods wanted to have a word with me about ‘security’ issues.” He rolled his eyes.

  “Curglaff referred them to you?” Karna guessed.

  Perrin grumbled back. “Few believe in hiring personal guards up here, I suppose. You have the fort, Major.” He put on his cap. “Headed to the stables, Zenos? I’ll accompany you.”

  Out in the forward command office, the lieutenant colonel nodded at the older, gnarled sergeant major sitting at the large planning desk, painstakingly updating a soldier’s personnel file.

  “Grandpy, I’m heading out for the afternoon. Karna’s on duty.”

  Grandpy Neeks saluted and grinned his weather-beaten smile. At fifty-three, only ten years older than Perrin, his dried gray skin and white hair made him look like the last survivor of the Great War 135 years ago. “Lemme guess,” he drawled slowly, “them lovely shops in the center are getting their fine wools coming in. Worried about them being pinched.”

  Perrin chuckled. “It’s Planting Season, Grandpy. The wools are going out, the silks and linens are coming in. More valuable, more anxiety causing.”

  “A shame,” Neeks slowly shook his head, “that a man like you is reduced to having to know what kinds of cloth are in fashion.”

  Perrin shrugged. “I know about the fashions only because I have a teenage daughter that’s been growing non-stop for the past two years.”

  Neeks continued to shake his head in sympathy as the men trotted down the stairs.

  “That’s probably why he never married,” Shem said quietly as they walked through the reception area, returning the salutes of the soldiers. “Doesn’t want a wife pestering him about fashion. A shame,” Shem drawled like the sergeant major.

  “So is that why you’re still not married, Shem? A strapping not-so-young man of now thirty-four? Men will start calling you Grandpy soon, too.”

  Shem elbowed his commander. “I look nothing like a Grandpy! And neither do you, I might add.”

  “I thank you for that,” Perrin nodded formally. Larger and broader than any man in the fort—or the entire village of Edge for that matter—Perrin Shin had also made sure over the years that he remained the strongest, fastest, and most physically intimidating officer in the northern half of the world.

  What that really meant was still being able to beat Zenos in the annual Strongest Soldier Race which, he was hated to admit, was becoming harder every year. In fact, last year he lost to Shem by a few dozen paces, but it might as well have been a mile for the amount of celebration that occurred. The enlisted man finally beat the officer, after ten straight losses. Perrin had to give him his little moment of glory, and even smiled obligingly at the enthusiasm of the enlisted men as they cheered their new hero.

  The loss had made Perrin feel . . . more mature. Even though he still thought of himself as a man only half his age, not even Shem was that young anymore.

  “And by the way, you now finally look like twenty-one,” he nudged the master sergeant. “I thought I saw a whisker on your chin the other day.”

  Automatically Shem’s hand went up to his chin to feel it.

  Perrin burst out laughing.

  Shem shook his head but chuckled. “Not funny, sir,” he sneered as they marched across the compound. The last remnants of the Raining Season’s snow piled against the stockade fence was finally melting, and the men’s boots squelched in the mud as they passed the mess hall and surgery on their way to the northeast gates.

  “Mahrree’s still on the lookout for you,” Perrin warned him. “Although I have to remind you again, single women your age are getting scarce.”

  “We’ve been through this before,” Shem sighed as they walked out of the compound toward the stables, “when I’m ready, I’ll find the right woman. Or she’ll find me, and then I’ll know I’m ready. We’ve just never crossed paths yet.”

  “That’s because you don’t walk on any paths except when on duty, Shem! You need to go out and find some new paths.”

  Shem looked around to make sure they were still out of earshot. “So, what . . . you’re saying you’re tiring of my company, Perrin? You’re ready to find a new best buddy?”

  Perrin smiled. It’d be impossible to replace Shem Zenos. He became so much a part of the Shin family that more than once Perrin had to remind himself that he wasn’t actually a blood relation. For Shem’s 26th birthday he gave him permission to call him Perrin—and found out then he’d been calling Mahrree by her first name for years.

  But somehow that step past propriety had sealed S
hem Zenos’s connection. If only Shem had black hair and nearly black eyes like Perrin, he would have been tempted to guess they were distantly related. There was no way to prove such a thing, however, since all the records of family lines had been destroyed generations ago. But since Shem was from between Flax and Waves, on the farthest reaches of the southern border of the world, and Perrin’s family had all come from Idumea, there were obviously no connections. Besides, Shem’s hair was the same color as Mahrree’s, his skin was hued a different gravelly color than Perrin’s, and his eyes were of such a pure blue that Perrin knew no one in his family could ever have produced something close to it. Black and brown were the dominant colors in the Shins.

  “Look,” Perrin told his master sergeant, “what you do with your life is your life. But you know Mahrree. ‘Coax him a little, Perrin!’” he said in a high-pitched voice. “‘Tell him how wonderful marriage is!’ By the way,” he added with cheerful deviousness, “did she tell you she received a letter from Sareen?”

  The moan of despair next to him made Perrin smirk.

  “Apparently not, then. It seems things didn’t work out too well with her latest conquest, and since Sareen’s likely gone through the full gamut of men in Quake and now Mountseen, she’s thinking of coming back to Edge. She was wondering about you.”

  “Dear Creator,” Shem mumbled in earnest prayer, “please no, please no . . .”

  Perrin chuckled. “Mahrree wrote to her that you’re still wholly committed to soldiering.”

  Shem’s shoulders sagged. “Thank you, Mahrree.”

  “She’s not the only one interested in you, Master Sergeant,” Perrin warned him. “Mahrree’s had a few other inquiries. She’s given up trying to find Grandpy Neeks a wife, but there are a few out there your age still. And they are—shall we say—not as young as they used to be. A few of them are bordering on full-blown spinsterhood, although they can probably cook well, judging on the spread of their hips.” He cast a sidelong glance to Shem to see if he was taking the bait.

  But Shem wasn’t.

  So Perrin went on. “You can’t wait too much longer. You’re older than I was when I got married, by several years now.”

  “I know,” Shem murmured. “I just . . .” He never finished those sentences about his reluctance to find a female. “Tell Mahrree thanks for fending them off for me.”

  “Oh, but she’s not,” Perrin chuckled. “She’s feeling them out and I have to play along, you know. Do my duty to my wife, and all that. So, get married. Have a wonderful life.”

  “Good man, Perrin,” Shem said solemnly. “I’ll tell Mahrree you did your duty, and I’ll take your words to heart.”

  “You must be the biggest liar in the army, Zenos!”

  “You really should be giving that lecture to Major Karna,” Zenos told him. “Brillen asked me to schedule him three days off in a row again. Seems he’s planning another visit down to Rivers.”

  “I’ve already given him the lecture,” Perrin said. “It’s not as if their fort needs more training in his inventory projection procedures.”

  A corner of Shem’s mouth went up. “So he’s still calling on that mystery woman?”

  “She’s no longer a mystery,” Perrin smiled faintly. “Told him I needed some details as to why he’s been a bit distracted lately. Her name’s Miss Robbing. He met her when she was making a delivery to the fort’s kitchen and he was inspecting their paperwork. She’s their egg woman. Brillen seems quite smitten with her.” Perrin’s smile dimmed.

  Shem frowned. “So what’s wrong? Sounds promising. He should bring her back here for a visit.”

  “There’s a bit of a problem. Her parents are unwell. Something’s wrong with her father’s lungs and he can’t breathe properly, and her mother’s legs were injured many years ago, and she can’t walk without assistance. Miss Robbing is not only their sole support, she’s their caregiver. She’d never leave them or Rivers.”

  “Ah,” Shem said slowly. “She could bring her parents here—”

  “Doesn’t sound like that’s an option. They have other family that help from time to time, a good neighborhood that frequently assists—Rivers is their home.” Perrin sighed.

  Shem cleared his throat. “Brillen’s long overdue for a promotion to lieutenant colonel, you know. Just like you’re long overdue to become a colonel.”

  “So what?” Perrin said dully as his gait slowed. The stables were in view, but he didn’t want to get there just yet.

  “Change isn’t all bad, Perrin. You’ve made a lot of changes to the forts, for example—”

  “That’s not the same,” Perrin interrupted, and his shoulder twitched. “The changes I instigate are good—”

  “He proclaims humbly,” Shem said in an undertone that Perrin tried to ignore.

  “I came to Edge because I despised all that was going on in Idumea. But it’s followed me here. All good things change, Shem. Nothing wrong with fighting it, is there?”

  The men had stopped walking now, and spoke just beyond each other’s shoulders, as if surveying the area for signs of trouble. Their ready stance kept younger soldiers away from their conversation.

  “Bad things also change, Perrin, often to something better, and change is vital,” Shem said quietly as his gaze swept across the forest’s edge, a few hundred paces away. “As manifested by your improvements to the security of the world. But think about this: what if your children never grew? You and I have certainly changed, and I think for the better. So why fight that?”

  Perrin grumbled quietly to himself. Shem was always far too logical. “Careful, master sergeant,” he said quietly as he watched passing soldiers who glanced back at him nervously, “you sound like you’re debating, and you know I’m not supposed to allow that.”

  Shem scoffed. “Says the biggest hypocrite in the village.”

  Perrin snorted, but kept his face still.

  “Now consider this,” Shem said, pivoting as a signal that what he was about to say was going to end the illegal debate. “If Brillen were promoted and transferred to Rivers—you know the colonel there’s looking to retire soon—what kind of change would Miss Robbing experience? And think if she were married to a man who brought home an officer’s pay? She wouldn’t spend so many hours each day in a hen house now, would she? Even her parents would benefit, and Brillen Karna would enjoy all those ‘benefits of marriage’ you keep going on about.”

  Perrin folded his arms and growled under his breath. They were robbing him of his major.

  But he knew he was being selfish. Karna had been there with him from the beginning, chosen by his father specifically to be Perrin’s second in command, probably because he was so by-the-book Perrin could use him as a reference guide.

  But over the years, Perrin had rubbed off on Brillen, so that he ignored the High General’s book of procedures nearly as often as Perrin did. Yet Karna was still an excellent officer, a careful planner, a most dedicated subordinate, and—worst of all—a friend who deserved to have a little bit of happiness, too.

  Perrin rubbed his forehead in frustration.

  “Lieutenant Rigoff’s a good officer,” Shem hinted. “He helped the major develop the new inventory procedures. He’s bright, willing to learn, and also overdue for promotion to captain. You know, I see those forms arrive in the messenger’s bag, but I think you lose them all on purpose. I’m sure Teeria would be happy to have her husband promoted to captain—”

  “Yes, yes, yes—all right, I heard you! I heard you already,” Perrin finally snapped at his conscience.

  A passing soldier hustled away to the mess hall to avoid finding out if the outburst was pointed at him, and what noise he may have made to set off the lieutenant colonel.

  Master Sergeant Zenos just smiled smugly and folded his arms.

  Perrin mumbled, “I’ll talk to Brillen after his next trip. See how things are going. See if he’s . . . interested in requesting a transfer.”

  “I don’t want to see him
go either, Perrin,” Shem whispered, “but how much longer should he sit under your shadow?”

  Perrin blinked in surprise at that. The thought had never occurred to him.

  Shem raised his eyebrows and tilted his head toward the stables.

  Reluctantly Perrin nodded back. They’d pick up this conversation later.

  As they neared the stables they found the group of ten new soldiers saddling their mounts for their training ride. Perrin and Shem both assumed a more reserved demeanor in front of the young men, which meant extending the distance between them another foot or so, as if to signal the familiarity all the soldiers knew existed wasn’t as close as it seemed. But it was a well-known fact that if you needed one man, just find the other.

  Still, the expectations of the Army of Idumea simply couldn’t abide an enlisted man ever referring to an officer by his first name, not even in the privacy of the officer’s home, and with a family he considered his own. So it was a good thing that the village Edge of the World was about as far away from Idumea as one could get.

  The men nodded to each other, took their respective horses, exchanged complicated facials expression that said, Mahrree’s expecting you for dinner, and I hope it’s steak, then headed out in different directions.

  Master Sergeant Zenos, in charge of new recruit training, rode straight to the forest’s edge to monitor the orientation of the fort’s newest soldiers, while Perrin shoved the worrying thought of Brillen Karna and a hopeful Miss Robbing into a recess in his mind—

  —But he didn’t shove them too closely together.

  Feeling a bit guilty about that, he decided to let them be a little closer . . .

  He prodded the horse chosen for him for the afternoon—a brown mare the stable master hoped would be the right combination of strength and speed Perrin was always searching for but never finding—and headed toward Edge to show the village that the Eyes, Ears, and Voice of the Administrators was there for them.