The Mansions of Idumea (Book 3 Forest at the Edge series) (39 page)

“Peto, just
stop
!” Jaytsy shouted.

A sound of shifting rock began at the far end
of what would have been the back of the storage room.

“Peto!” cried Mahrree as the scraping noise
grew louder.

A section of timbers caved in with a
deafening crash and a plume of dust rose just a few paces away from
Peto, but he was already scrambling back to the crevice. As a small
hill of debris shifted into the collapse, Peto grabbed the
soldier’s outstretched hand. Perrin reached down to grab his other
arm, and together they pulled. Peto kicked up to the surface just
as several large pieces of rock shifted and gave way, compressing
the crevice into a mere slit.

Mahrree gripped her chest in relief as the
dust began to clear, Joriana fanned herself, and Jaytsy put a
supportive arm around her grandmother.

Perrin, however, punched his son angrily on
the shoulder before pulling him into a firm hug. “Stupid, son.
Don’t ever, ever do something like that again.”

The sergeant stood up and dusted off his
jacket. Perrin slapped him gratefully on the back.

The soldier nodded to him. “Whatever files
the general was going for, boy,” the sergeant said a little
breathlessly, “are destined to be entombed. No paper is worth
that.”

Peto actually looked disappointed as he
pulled out of his father’s grip and turned to the pile of rock and
wood. “I guess we already know enough,” he said vaguely. “Just had
to try.” He looked at the sergeant and nodded.

“Well, I’ve seen enough,” Joriana said,
patting her chest. Mahrree and Jaytsy nodded vigorously in
agreement.

Joriana squeezed the arm of the soldier in
gratitude and marched quickly to the carriage. Mahrree and Jaytsy
each took a side of Peto and escorted him back, just in case he had
any additional less-than-brilliant ideas.

Perrin turned to the soldier. “I’m sorry
about that, Sergeant. I don’t know what got into him. But I’ll
never forget your assistance. You’ve just earned yourself a seat at
The Administrative Celebration Dinner at the High General’s Mansion
next week.”

“Really, sir?” the sergeant said
excitedly.

Mahrree, Jaytsy, and Peto chuckled to each
other as they headed for the carriage.

“Absolutely,” they heard Perrin say. “You can
even be in charge for the evening.”

Joriana heard that, too. She spun around and
bellowed, “PERRIN!”

He cringed and turned back to the sergeant.
“Woman has ears like a bat. It was worth a try. Still, come by for
The Dinner and bring a friend. My personal invitation. Tell them
that at the door.”

“Yes, sir!”

A few quiet minutes later—Joriana glaring at
her son, and Perrin looking everywhere but at her—the carriage went
around a bend and out toward the large gates of the garrison. The
driver stopped the impatient horses, waiting for a gap in the
steady stream of wagons passing before they could continue on to
the road.

Peto, bored already by the delay and
surprisingly unperturbed by his near brush with death, looked
around. He stopped suddenly, twisting to see behind them.

“Grandmother, what is that?”

Joriana, facing him in the carriage, already
had a clear view of what captured his attention. She groaned and
shuddered. “With so much happening this week, the rubbish removers
haven’t been able to do their jobs. Look at that pile of waste and
filth! Disgusting.”

Mahrree, Perrin, and Jaytsy twisted to see
what Peto had pointed out. A sloppy structure of debris, cloth,
paper, and even what may have been food was heaped in a mass about
thirty paces away.

“That’s not what I meant, Grandmother,” Peto
said in a quieter voice. “I meant that man.”

None of them had noticed him yet; his dress
and filth blended in with the mound of refuse. He was gently
tugging at something in the precarious pile, not realizing he had
an audience. His age was undetectable under his dirt. He could have
been eighteen or sixty-eight. He might have been tall, but his
gaunt body was hunched over. His hair, maybe dark, was tousled and
unkempt.

Peto swallowed hard. “He’s looking for food
or clothes, isn’t he?”

Joriana shuddered again. “Turn around Peto.
Never mind him. He was probably one of the layabouts they evicted
from the old houses that are now rubble. But people that are like
him, they want to live that way.”

Jaytsy turned sharply to her grandmother.
“They
want
to live that way?”

Joriana sighed loudly. “That’s not exactly
what I meant.”

Mahrree and Perrin looked at her for an
explanation.

“What I meant was . . .” Under the scrutiny
of her family, she tried again. “People like that—there are a lot
of them in Idumea. We seem to attract them from the other villages.
They don’t have jobs or families, no ambition, no desire to help
themselves. They eat from our trash and live in crates down by the
river. Well, some of them probably lived in the abandoned garrison
up until last week, and I think they uncovered a corpse or
two—”

Her family stared in dismay when she casually
waved that little detail away.

“Really, they’re
fine
. This is what
they do.”

Peto turned again to look at the man. He had
stopped tugging at the pile and was examining something in his
hands. Perhaps feeling the stare of the thirteen-year-old, he
slowly looked up and met Peto’s gaze.

Peto gulped again as the vacant eyes looked
past him, and he turned back around. The carriage was leaving the
garrison.

“That’s not right,” Peto whispered. “Someone
should do something for them.”

“Well,” Joriana sighed, “the Administrators
believe that—”

“The Administrators!” Peto scoffed exactly
like his father.

Perrin beamed with pride.

“Why should the Administrators do something,
Grandmother? Why should the government step in and take over in
every little thing?”

Now Mahrree beamed at their son.

“The first words of The Writings are, ‘We are
all family,’” Peto reminded everyone. “Even people who haven’t read
it in years should remember that first line! So he
does
have
family, Grandmother: all of us. There are dozens of shops near
here. Why doesn’t one of them give him an out-of-fashion coat?
Another one a meat pie? It wouldn’t hurt them at all. Even over at
the garrison, they were throwing blankets and pillows into that
pile that’s going to be dumped by the river. Why not give them to
people like him instead of just throwing it away? Why aren’t
we
doing something?” He looked around himself for something
he could offer, but the horses were already in a fast trot down the
road away from the garrison.

Joriana stared at him. “I honestly don’t
know, Peto. But I promise I’ll speak to your grandfather about it.
When he’s better, I’m sure he’ll see what he can do. What
we
can do,” she clarified.

Peto nodded in satisfaction and looked out at
the road again.

But Mahrree noticed his grandmother continued
to stare at him as if she’d never heard such words in her entire
life, and it seemed to bother Joriana.

Chapter 12
~
“In an emergency, you need to preserve the hierarchy
to prevent anarchy.”

J
ust 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.”