The Mansions of Idumea (Book 3 Forest at the Edge series) (69 page)

Nearly.

“Finally you believe me, don’t you my dear
Doctor? Now you see why I’ve always thought of Perrin Shin as one
of the most aggravating, annoying—”

“Dangerous!” Brisack added.

Mal nodded. “—dangerous men in the world. And
now Relf has just joined that little club.”

Brisack exhaled. “Now that was unexpected! He
wrote the message, he released the stores, he commanded the
soldiers—next he’ll be saying all of it was his fault, just to
protect that insubordinate brat of his!”

“Most likely,” Mal agreed, still torn between
fury and fascination. “The Administrators will all be in session
tomorrow morning. Emergency meeting. We’ll decide then how to
handle this.”

Brisack scoffed. “Handle this? We can’t
handle this
. We have to go along with it! Think about it:
the world will think Edge was saved by the garrison and
Administrators. If we expose the deceit of the Shins and say they
acted without permission,
we
come off as the enemy. They
had
to take it because the Administrators wouldn’t release
it! We have to support this if we want to keep any semblance of
order.”

“Yes, we do,” Mal said easily. “We can come
off looking quite good, if we handle this properly. That’s what I
meant, my good doctor.”

“And so then what happens to the Shins?”
Brisack seethed. “Patted on the back?”

“Given another meaningless certificate for
services to the world?” Mal suggested with a tone of
accusation.

Brisack huffed and looked down at his
hands.

“What do you think of her?” Mal probed.

Brisack sighed. “I still can’t figure out
Mahrree Shin. At The Dinner she was brave in her timidity and
confident despite her insecurity. Wished I knew what part she
played in all of this.”

“May have been a very big part, Doctor.”

Brisack shook his head. “He has to be
punished,” he insisted, ignoring the question of Mahrree Shin. “He
can’t get away with this. With such blatant—You realize what it is,
don’t you?” He looked up, his eyes nearly ablaze. “Exactly what I
warned you about! He’s more loyal to his Creator than he is to us.
You wondered what he could do? This! Raid from the garrison, steal
the wagons, make up lies all the way to Edge, and convince his
father to join him in the deception. And if you were to ask Perrin
Shin why, I’ll bet you all the gold in my coffer he’d say he felt a
duty
to his Creator to do this! She said it—she said it at
The Dinner!” he suddenly remembered. “She said she doubted Edgers
knew
just how much he loved them
. Loved them enough to
destroy himself and his career!”

Mal raised a surprised eyebrow. “So what’s
next?”

“Exactly what I wonder! And fear!” Brisack
barked. “What will he do next?”

“No,” Mal said, “what do
we
do next?
How do we prove to him his devotion should be to us, not some
imaginary friend?”

Brisack thought about it for a moment, his
breathing becoming more rapid the angrier he became. “We prove
who’s more powerful,” he finally decided. “Years ago you wanted
Perrin Shin brought to his knees, remember? In the name of his
Creator,
I will bring him
down!
”

“Or you’ll die trying?” said Mal, just as
icily.

“Yes!” Brisack exclaimed without
hesitation.

Nicko Mal clasped his hands in front of him.
“Now, that’s more like it.”

Chapter 21
~
“What we did would be known by now, wouldn’t
it?”

E
ven though the next
morning was Holy Day again, marking three weeks since the land
tremor, Mahrree knew there’d be no congregational meeting. There
was still too much work to do.

But that didn’t stop her from studying. She
sat at the table and sighed with pleasure at her library. There
were far fewer books than in the mansion’s study, and they weren’t
bound as beautifully, but she the loved the ragged edges of the
pages that were too cheap to be cut to perfection. Somehow they
felt more real.

Yesterday she had the impression as if their
family had been, in the words of Jaytsy, away for a lifetime. Yet
this morning the last couple of weeks were almost a dream. She
opened The Writings to study before waking her family to eat the
last of the leftovers from Idumea. Then they’d be on bread and
chewy apple bits, supplemented with strips of jerky twice a week
like everyone else, unless more deer could be found in the forest
and roasted in her backyard. Perrin was already planning to spend
an hour with Peto fishing in the river for dinner, and not just for
fun, he told his wife. But Mahrree suspected fun would be had
anyway. At least, she hoped so.

As she thumbed through the pages, she knew
exactly what she wanted to read: the warnings of the first and
great guide, Hierum.

Before the Last Day will be a land tremor
more powerful than any ever experienced. It will awaken the largest
mountain and change all that we know in the world. Those changes
will bring famine, death, and desperation to the world. And that
desperation will cause the world’s army to seek to destroy the
faithful of the Creator.

Mahrree stared at the passage, amazed how
once again words she’d read dozens of times suddenly jumped out and
throttled her. Why’d she never notice that list before? There it
was, plain as day, but she had always skimmed over it.

First was a land tremor. For some reason her
mind always jumped to “awaken the largest mountain,” and ignored
the earlier words. Their recent tremor was big, but Shem had said
his father between Flax and Waves felt only a mild jiggling. This
tremor clearly wasn’t a prologue to the Last Day. But maybe it was
a warning.

Second on the list was the awakening of Mt.
Deceit. No one knew quite how to interpret that, and even the smoke
that rose from it three weeks ago had quieted in the past days, so
she decided that they were safe for a while.

Next was famine, death, and desperation.
Mahrree could see all too easily how that could come to pass.
Villages low on reserves, thieves looting for food, and just one
late snowfall could doom an entire civilization, driving it to
desperation. She made a mental note to discuss with Perrin ways
that they could avoid being caught unprepared in the future.

Then came the sentence that always pricked
her, and did so again.

And that desperation will cause the world’s
army to seek to destroy the faithful of the Creator.

There were only two armies: one organized and
one Guarder. The question of who was considered “the faithful” also
always worried her. Surely everyone felt faithful to someone or
something, but how could you be sure you were faithful to the
correct
one or thing?

She looked again at the phrase that gnawed at
her.

On that day do not be one of those surprised
to find yourself on the wrong side.

What could be the ‘wrong side’? For years
she’d tried to understand that, but figured out only this: the way
to be surprised was if she was
sure
she was on the right
side, only to find out that instead she was confused, or stubborn,
or simply missed—or worse, ignored—the promptings to get to
another side
.

But where could that other side be?

Perrin’s lumbering down the stairs in his
frumpled nightshirt startled her out of her thoughts. They’d
reached a dead-end anyway.

He rubbed his eyes and tried to focus. “What
are you doing? How late is it?”

“I’m reading, and it’s still early,” she
assured him. “I just wanted to feel some normalcy again.”

He nodded wearily and plodded into the
kitchen. A moment later she heard him call, “Mahrree, it’s Holy Day
again, right?”

“Yes. Why?”

“That would explain the installation of a
third spit in our back garden. By the shape of him I’d say it looks
like Arky and his neighbors. They’re setting up two half-starved
deer and . . . if I had to guess, that other animal that looks like
a large dog might instead be a sheep or maybe a small boar.”

Mahrree chuckled. “And
that
, Joriana,”
she said to herself, “is how we host dinners in Edge: bring your
own boar.”

Perrin’s voice came louder, addressing the
men in the back garden through the window. “No, no, no, that’s
quite all right. That part of the garden seemed to be lacking for
something interesting anyway. Yes, yes—it’s good to be back.”

He stumbled back to the eating room and
plopped down at the table. “It seems we can’t avoid these. We’re
hosting the after-congregation-without-meeting-for-congregation
meal again, aren’t we?”

Mahrree grinned. “I certainly hope so. Ah, I
missed Edge!”

“As long as there’s no dancing.” Perrin
yawned.

---

Perrin sent a message to Idumea that morning
as soon as he reached the fort.

Arrived safely except for trouble near
Pools.

Snyd is investigating.

People of Edge are eternally grateful to the
Administrators

for their generosity, and pledge undying
loyalty.

There was nothing else he could do; it was
all out of his hands now.

The rest of that day was spent as the others
had been. Perrin went to survey the village and set a few soldiers
to fishing the river, while Mahrree, Jaytsy and Peto got on their
worst clothes and headed to the first pile they could find. They
cleaned up rubble, lugged debris to the river to shore up the banks
for those rare years the river flooded, and dragged small timbers
taken from the safest edges of the forest to the sawmill.

“It’s almost as if nothing’s changed,” Jaytsy
said as the family trudged home to prepare dinner with several
women who were already making biscuits and chatting in the back
garden. “Finish with one house, there are another five more to do.
And we even had a break for a couple of weeks!”

“Remember Major Karna’s estimates? He thinks
in one more moon everything will be finished,” Mahrree told her.
“We have to stop focusing on what still needs to be done and feel
satisfaction in what’s already been completed. It
is
getting
better, Jayts. Sometimes it’s just hard to see it.”

“I suppose so.” Then she laughed softly. “Did
you see those women with Grandmother’s dresses? I was afraid some
of them would start changing right there in front of everyone! Mrs.
Dede went from torn rags to linens in under a minute. She’ll be the
most stylish weaver’s wife ever. I think Grandmother would be
pleased.” Then, more quietly, she added, “What we did would be
known by now, wouldn’t it?”

Peto looked nervously at Mahrree.

“Yes,” Mahrree said slowly. “But the
Administrators don’t return to meetings until tomorrow. We
shouldn’t expect any news from Idumea until tomorrow evening at the
earliest. No news would be best, remember?”

---

Two men sat in the dark office of an unlit
building.

“Well,” Brisack huffed, “that was the most
unproductive meeting we’ve ever had! And that’s saying something,
considering how many unproductive sessions we’ve had to
endure.”

Mal snickered. His partner’s frustration had
been the one bright spot of the entire situation. “It’s probably
because we called everyone back early from their holidays. Couldn’t
even come to any consensus about who was responsible. And I thought
it quite convenient that Relf was feeling too weakened to come to
our inquiry.”

“Weakened indeed!” the good doctor
sneered.

“Gadiman’s up to something,” Mal said,
clasping his hands in front of him. “He refused to meet with me
this morning, he wouldn’t make eye contact at the meeting, and as
soon as we dispersed for the afternoon, he vanished. Any idea where
to?”

Brisack shook his head. “I was going to have
him followed, then I got caught up in something else and the weasel
had already disappeared.”

Mal nodded once. “We need to track him down.
He’s likely avoiding us because he’s embarrassed about the failure
to stop the caravan. Once again, his lack of preparation has led to
a disappointing conclusion.”

“I’m beginning to get tired of these,” stewed
the good doctor.

“I have been for years. So now what?”

“Working on it,” Brisack muttered.

---

They’ll
think
it was a failure,
Gadiman chuckled mirthlessly to himself. He was headed into the
dark fog, unsure of where he was going, but confident he’d find his
way—and his contact, who had just returned to
Idumea—eventually.

Well, he had to admit to himself that in a
way, it
was
a failure. Not exactly what he expected. He
thought at least a few wagons would be destroyed—

But never mind. It was only Part One to his
plan.

The next part would surely succeed. He’d had
years to plan this, to mull over what went wrong the first time, to
make sure this one was foolproof.

And then—
then
—after all these years,
there’d be sweet vindication.

---

Early the next morning Perrin and Mahrree
went down into their narrow cellar, dug out of the soil next to the
boulder that served as their house’s foundation. Mahrree went to
the shelves set up against the earthen wall and began to remove
empty jugs, saved to be filled with juices in Harvest.

But Perrin hesitated. “You’re sure you’re all
right with this?”

“Of course,” she said, not pausing in her
work. “It’s the most logical thing. It should be done. It’s useless
hiding down here.”

Perrin helped her take down the last of the
jugs, and Mahrree stepped back as he removed the middle shelf and
pried off the planks that served as backing boards. Behind them,
dug into the earthen wall, was a crate on its side framing piles of
silver and gold slips.