The Mansions of Idumea (Book 3 Forest at the Edge series) (80 page)

Perrin didn’t look up but kept writing.

“They were so careless in those days,” Shem
went on, “thinking that no one was spying on them as they spied on
us. We just climbed high enough, and they never bothered to look
up. Why would soldiers be dressed in black themselves and sitting
at the tree line to overhear their plans?”

Perrin scratched out another line.

“Some of those nights sure were dull though,
weren’t they? Except when we saw the occasional mountain lion under
us, sniffing the trees. But we had plenty of time to perfect our
silent communication of winks and facial tics, right? So those
nights weren’t a complete loss.”

Perrin scrawled yet another line.

“But then there was that night when Brillen
and his partner eavesdropped on two Guarders talking about a raid,
and we surprised those ten Guarders the next day just as they came
running out to the field.”

“Yes, Shem—I was there,” Perrin said, a bit
impatiently.

“Swiftest end to a raid ever,” Shem said, and
then attempted a soft chuckle. “Remember that time I had to climb
down to go, uh, water the trees, and that Guarder mistook me for
his contact?”

Perrin merely grunted.

“Yeah,
that Guarder
—we were talking
about needs in the south and lack of silver slips, until suddenly
he became suspicious of me. Starting saying a slightly strange
phrase—”

“You messed up in responding,” Perrin cut him
off. “So I dropped from the tree and slashed his throat before he
could slash yours.” His quill continued to move methodically across
the page.

Shem smiled faintly. “Quite a mess, and thank
you again for saving my life. But I’ve frequently thought about
that
phrase
. It was about the north—”

Perrin looked up at him, his eyes dark and
cold. “Not now, Shem.”

“But Perrin—”

“I’m not in the mood for any of your stories,
Zenos!” Perrin snipped. “Now is not the time for ‘Remember
when.’”

Shem took a deep breath and let it out as
Perrin went back to work. He was right; now wasn’t the time.
Someday it would be, but now, considering his state of mind . .
.

Shem looked at Perrin’s plate, still
untouched. He knew it was well over a day since Perrin had eaten.
“You need food. If you want to be strong enough to go home tomorrow
you need something.”

Perrin didn’t answer, but started on a second
page.

“I realize it’s only
army
food,” Shem
tried to say lightly, “but still.” When Perrin remained silent, he
asked, “Is that for the major?”

Perrin didn’t look up but instead regarded
the notes he made. “Yes. Some questions I want him to investigate.
I want them to look more into Riplak’s background. He started
working for my father as a teenager, in the stables, but where did
he come from before that?”

“Uh, they have some ideas as to why his
jacket was in Kindiri’s room.” Shem hesitated to go into further
detail.

“I know why,” Perrin said offhandedly.

“You do?”

“Caught Riplak coming down the servants’
stairs one morning.” Perrin dipped his quill in the ink and
continued with his notes. “He was buttoning his jacket, but had
missed a button. When he saw me, he seemed surprised but tried to
be casual about it.”

“What’d you say to him?”

“That I expected better behavior from an
officer. But he wasn’t an officer. Not
really
.” Perrin’s
quill never stopped moving.

“What do you mean, not really?” Shem asked,
mystified.

“He was one of them, Shem. A Guarder. He used
Kindiri.”

Perrin said it so plainly that Shem shook his
head a little to make sure he heard that right. “Riplak was a
Guarder? How do you know?”

“He set us up. All of us. Worked for my
father for years so that he trusted Riplak. Used Kindiri to keep
close access to the house when he was supposed to be sleeping at
the garrison. He left his jacket in her bedroom on purpose, Shem,
so they’d think he was ‘caught with his trousers down,’ right?”
Perrin looked up briefly into Shem’s stunned expression.

“Well, uh, yeah, uh . . . that’s what Cush
was suggesting—”

Perrin turned back to his pages. “That’s what
he wants them to think: that he was a derelict officer, and now
he’s run away in shame.”

“Yeah . . . exactly . . .” Shem shook his
head, dumbfounded.

“They’ll never see Riplak again. He’s long
gone, but not in shame—in triumph. He’s probably been given a
sizable bag of gold and will become the newest trainer of Guarders
in how to infiltrate, murder, and get out alive and rich.”

Shem sat back, deflated. “That’s . . . that’s
. . . How’d you put that together? The way your mind works—Perrin,
sometimes you really startle me.”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn’t exactly a compliment.”

“I know.”

Shem sighed. “I thought Riplak sounded honest
in your office. He had me fooled, too. I guess Guarders
are
living in Idumea in disguise.”

“Probably have been for years. The Guarders
never quit; they just planted a few apple trees in some choice
land, knowing they’d be back in a few years and would want a
harvest.”

“Wow,” Shem said dismally. “How’d you come to
that conclusion?”

“It’s what I would do.” He didn’t look up as
he made a note on a smaller piece of paper.

“Guess you would have made a good Guarder,
then, with forethought like that.”

“Three Guarders may have had free rein in
that mansion,” Perrin bristled. “One of them even held my daughter
for an hour teaching her to dance!” He scribbled more
furiously.

“Three? But,” Shem started hesitantly,
“Kindiri couldn’t be one of them. She was beaten, horribly.”

“Because she followed them, perhaps? Because
she recognized her brother’s voice? Or went after her lover, trying
to see what he was up to? She condemned herself. Oh, by the
way—that corporal that survived but was found wounded and
unconscious?” He waved a little note impassively. “Died this
afternoon, of course. The only man with any answers as to who did
what and where?” Perrin scoffed. “Besides, what better way to show
Kindiri’s not connected to them but to attack her? Leave her
bloodied and beaten in the house?”

Perrin dropped the quill and exhaled. Shem
blinked at his abrupt manner.

“Leave them bloody and beaten in the house,”
Perrin repeated tonelessly. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Perrin?”

He slowly looked up at Shem. “
Leave them
bloody and beaten in the house.
Like you were. Left in the
Arkys’ house during that first successful raid of Edge.” He leaned
back in his chair and glared. “There’s been an apple tree in my
back garden for fourteen years.”

Shem’s mouth fell open in shock. “What are
you talking about? Perrin! That was, that was—are you, are you
suggesting, after all this time . . .” He struggled to know how to
say it as angry tears filled his eyes.

Perrin sighed and put his head in his hands.
“No, no, no,” he said quietly, “of course not. I’m sorry. I’m just
feeling . . .”

He stopped, released his head, and looked at
the affronted face of his friend. “Shem, there are
cats
everywhere.”

Shem looked at him, baffled, before he
understood. “You heard all of what Thorne said?”

“Of course I did. I was in the carriage right
next to you.”

“But you seemed, you looked . . .”

“Like a man who didn’t want to talk to Cush
and Thorne? Like a man who just wanted to be left alone?”

Shem smiled feebly. “Yes, and you were. But
Perrin, I’m not like them. If anything has shown that, I would
think the last thirteen, fourteen years would have.”

Perrin held up his hands. “I know. I know.
You’ve said so many things to me no Guarder could ever consider.”
He looked away and seemed lost in thought for a moment. “Shem, what
did you mean earlier today? As I was asking the Creator to watch
over them at the burial? You said my parents were
there
.”

Shem put his fork down and looked intently at
Perrin who now stared at the flickering candlelight. He’d been
waiting for him to ask. “They
were
there. On either side of
you as you knelt between their coffins. You mother on your right,
your father on your left. I don’t mean their bodies. Their
spirits.”

Perrin slowly looked up at him. “Why didn’t I
see them?”

“Because you’re too angry.”

Perrin breathed out heavily. “How did they
look, honestly?”

Shem began to smile, to Perrin’s surprise.
“Wonderful! Much younger, radiant, and very concerned about their
son.”

“They were . . . cleaned up?”

“Perrin, it’s only their bodies that were
hurt, not their souls.” He leaned forward earnestly. “They looked
as if they could be experiencing great joy, if only they could see
you freed. They’re going to stay with you until they’re sure you’re
fine. They had their arms around you, and each had a hand placed
right—”

Perrin put his hand on his chest, just above
his heart. “Here?”

Shem smiled. “Yes!”

Perrin nodded slowly. “I wondered at first if
it was the start of a heart attack, but it felt peaceful, like a
glimpse of the sun during a terrible thunderstorm. But it didn’t
seem right to feel such comfort at a time like that. I guess I
pushed the feeling away—”

“They’re trying to reach you, Perrin,” Shem
said as his eyes shifted back and forth across him. “Right
now
, in fact.”

Perrin looked down at his plate, breathing
deeply. “There’s nothing I want to believe more than that.” His
eyes darted to either side of him and saw nothing but the table and
empty chairs next to him.

“Then you have to forgive,” Shem said. “It’s
the only way you’ll feel them.”

Perrin’s head shot up. “Forgive?!” He leaped
to his feet, shoving the chair behind him. “Do you see any Guarders
kneeling at my feet begging for my mercy? Do you see any officials
saying anything more than, ‘Sorry Perrin, let’s go get you
sedated’? No!”

“In the hospital you said you already felt
nothing,” Shem reminded him. “But you wanted to feel better. You
won’t feel better, or feel your parents, unless you release that
bitterness. It’s consuming you. There’s no room for anything else.
Let it go
.”

“Let it go? How can I ignore what
happened?”

“Forgiving isn’t ignoring the act; it’s
moving past it.”

“But my parents deserve justice!”

“That’s the Creator’s domain, Perrin. It’s up
to Him to give justice or mercy. Do you think the Creator won’t be
fair? Or that maybe He’ll go too easy on whoever did this?”

Perrin’s breathing slowed. He dully
straightened his chair and sat back down. “I’ve known many evil
men. And I think I’m beginning to find more. They sit in large,
beautiful homes and do whatever they please and suffer no
consequences. How’s that justice?”

“It’s not justice
yet
,” Shem said.
“But their success cannot last. The Creator watches all, and
rewards and punishes accordingly, but not until the end of the
Test. Perrin, it’s not up to you to exact revenge or justice.
You’re not the Creator’s destroyer. It’s your duty to move on.”

The two men sat in silence. Shem couldn’t see
anything on his friend’s face but deadness. Finally he said,
“Perrin, eat. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow. Depending on
how long the Administrators take with you in the morning, we could
be on the road by midday meal. Let’s find out your punishment for
the ‘stolen’ wagons of food and your little show on their table,
and go home.”

Perrin still sat listlessly.

Shem sat up straighter. “You’re not going
home, are you?”

Perrin looked up at him.

Shem leaned forward. “You’re planning to
stay, to investigate this!”

“No I’m not.” He was very convincing. But not
enough.

“Yes, yes you are!”

“What makes you say that?”

“Your father! He’s just told me. Perrin, he
knows what you’re planning and he doesn’t want you to stay. You
want to send me back to care for Mahrree and your children until
you find your answers. Well, what if you never do? Perrin, your
father wants you to forgive, leave Idumea, and go home!”

Perrin’s jaw trembled. “Stop it, Zenos. Just
stop it! It won’t work. Besides, who else could do investigate this
properly? Everyone else will think like Cush and believe Riplak was
merely derelict instead of a Guarder. But I can get to the bottom
of this, Shem. I’ve figured out so much already, now I just need to
figure out who gives those bags of gold, then I—”

“No, you can’t! They don’t want you to do
this!” Shem pleaded, nearly crawling on the table in earnestness.
“Feel them! Just release the burden! At the burial, could you have
carried their coffins alone? No, you needed me to help. I carried
half the weight. Now it’s enough. Now give
all
the weight to
the Creator. Let Him exact justice in His time. You can’t move on
unless you release this. It’ll crush you, Perrin, just as trying to
carry them to their graves would’ve crushed you. You don’t have to
feel this way. Choose to release it! Give Him your burden.”

Perrin stared at him.

After a long silence he said, “Sometimes I
think I still hear my uncle Hogal Densal. You sounded just like him
there. Years ago he said something similar, but he was talking
about how to start again when you need to change your life.”

“Repentance and forgiveness go hand-in-hand,
Perrin,” Shem told him softly. “No one may ever ask your
forgiveness, but you still need to forgive. It was your parents’
time to go, Perrin. The Creator
allowed
this. He also
allowed it to be done by . . . whoever, to seal that murder’s fate
with your parents’ blood. Now the Creator can punish him not only
for the darkness of his thoughts, but also for the darkness of his
actions. In the meantime, your parents are enjoying themselves with
their friends and family in Paradise.”