The Mansions of Idumea (Book 3 Forest at the Edge series) (52 page)

“Has he seen her yet?” Relf whispered to
Mahrree as Jaytsy giggled at a private who shyly handed her a
blossom he’d stolen from a centerpiece.

“I don’t know,” she whispered back.

“It’s different, isn’t it,” Relf started
uncertainly. “When the female is yours?” He glared at the private
whose gaze followed Jaytsy, now fairly dancing between two tables
oohing at this and that, then patting a caterer in approval as the
older woman placed a platter of something green and orange on the
table.

When the private failed to realize he was
being eyed by the highest commander, Relf cleared his throat with
alarming volume. The private did a little jump—as did the dozen or
so others in the Grand Hall—and immediately the hapless soldier
turned to the High General. Seeing the threatening look in his
hardened eyes, the soldier quickly went back to fussing with
silverware, even though he was on chair detail. Jaytsy flitted
obliviously to the gathering room.

“Well done,” Mahrree whispered to Relf. “Can
you do that all night?”

“I’m sure Perrin will. I’ll just serve as
backup. She really is quite . . .” He held up his hands in
positions that made him immediately uncomfortable.

“Agreed,” Mahrree chuckled. “She’s very much
a Shin. Perrin’s slowly catching on just how stunning she is.”

“There’s a great deal of her mother in her as
well.” Relf gently elbowed her.

“Well,” Mahrree shrugged in
embarrassment.

“Where’s Peto?” Relf asked, keeping a sharp
eye on the private who kept glancing nervously back at him. He
finally remembered he was to be lining up chairs, and struggled
with exactly how one did that.

“Dressed, as of some time ago. Hiding in his
bedroom though.”

“That’s probably for the best,” Relf nodded.
“Joriana wants him by her side so she can supervise him.”

“The poor boy!”

A controlled but loud shout from the area of
the kitchen made Relf and Mahrree wince. Apparently the head of the
hired hands Joriana had employed wasn’t happy. “This was NOT how it
was done last year! Mrs. Shin!”

From the eating hall, where platters of lamb
were placed to be trotted out to the tables later, Joriana—in a
flurry of deep purple silk and grumbling none too elegantly—bustled
to the kitchen to set a few things straight.

Mahrree pursed her lips in sympathy, even
though she didn’t know who to feel sorry for.

Relf verbalized her response. “Poor all of
us.”

As they chuckled together Relf bounced his
fist lightly off her skirt. “About tonight, don’t worry so much
about Administrators watching you. Just do the old
smile-and-nod—and by the way, that means
not
saying
words—”

She shot him a playful glare.

“—and if someone does ask you a pointed
question or tries to get you to say something you’d rather not,
remember that you’re a host this evening, and offer to get them a
plate of food. That always throws them.”

Mahrree exhaled. “Good idea. I’ll remember
that.”

“Besides, I’m pretty sure they’ll all be
watching me instead. Several of them aren’t too happy I’m
recovering,” he told her in a low voice. “And I know of a few
colonels who were likely hoping this mansion would have been
vacated by now, and that tonight a new High General would have been
announced instead of in two years. They’re all coming to see just
how spry I look tonight.”

Mahrree gave him a quick once over. Then she
evaluated him again, more closely.

He was different than in years past. He was
still solid and massive and imposing, but there was gentleness
around his black eyes that she’d never noticed before. Maybe
because it wasn’t there before. His hair, a mixture of black, gray,
and a few new white hairs, had been trimmed neatly the day before,
and the color was coming back to his still somewhat gaunt face. His
perpetual scowl and squint were missing, replaced by an expression
of earnestness. Altogether, Mahrree realized, he was quite a
striking man.

“You look remarkably well,” she assured him.
He’d instinctively sat a little taller, she noticed, during her
inspection. “All things considered. But you forgot your sword.”

“I left it off on purpose,” he confided.
“It’s rather heavy. Can’t effectively put off the illusion of
strength and resilience when my sword’s tipping me over.”

Mahrree chuckled quietly with him and bounced
her own fist on his leg. She’d always been nervous around High
General Shin, but she quite enjoyed the company of Relf.

“Everything fine out here?” a shrill voice
stopped their chuckling. Joriana stood before them with her hands
on her hips, seemingly insulted that the two of them appeared so
relaxed when such an event was about to occur.

“Yes, dear,” Relf said promptly. “The Hall’s
shaping up nicely, everyone’s working diligently, and we even seem
to be a bit ahead of schedule. And you look very nice tonight.”

Joriana blinked, a bit startled. Apparently
she wasn’t accustomed to receiving compliments from Relf
either.

“Why, thank you.” She looked around and wrung
her hands, unsure of what to do next since he’d thrown her off her
trajectory.

Relf cocked his head toward the east wing.
“Perrin?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed, and marched loudly down
the Grand Hall. “You BETTER be dressed!”

To Mahrree’s questioning look, Relf said,
“She enjoys the drama. If things are going too smoothly, she gets
nervous. She needs something to fight against to keep her going.
That’s why she’s been such an excellent match for me. She keeps me
going. They never would have found me after the tremor if it hadn’t
been for her persistence.”

The High General cleared his throat to expel
the emotion that was rising there, and Mahrree, pretending to not
notice the shininess in his eyes, turned instead to watch the
lowering of the chandeliers.

A moment later from down the Hall they both
heard the exclamation of, “Mother! Do you mind?”

“You know, Perrin, some officers actually
practice getting dressed
quickly
? Oh, do get over yourself.
I changed that bottom more times than I care to remember—”

As the bedroom door in the east wing slammed
shut, Relf and Mahrree snorted so loudly it echoed in the Great
Hall, despite the decorations and tablecloths to muffle the
sound.

Or maybe their snorts of laughter were echoed
by the dozen servants and soldiers still setting up, pretending not
to hear the exchange between mother and son.

“Oh, my ribs, my ribs,” Relf wailed quietly
and slouched back on the sofa, still chuckling.

“Poor Mother Shin,” Mahrree giggled. “I don’t
think I’ve ever seen her in such a state!”

“Granted, she’s rather more anxious this year
than in years past,” Relf admitted after he caught his breath
again. “But that’s because the most important visitors she’s ever
had are coming this year.”

“Oh, dear,” Mahrree clenched her hands
nervously. “Who?”

“Her son and her daughter-in-law,” he said
quietly.

Mahrree stopped fidgeting.

“Told me the other night that she wanted
everything to be perfect. Of all the dignitaries and elite of
Idumea, she most desperately wants to impress you, Mahrree. Because
if you’re impressed, you’ll influence Perrin. She feels it’s time
for her children to come home.”

Mahrree swallowed hard and watched with Relf
the lighting of the candles in the chandelier.

Chapter 16
~
“Those kind don’t belong here.”

G
adiman surveyed the
scene in front of him and scowled.

Hundreds of guests were stuffed into the
mansion, with many spilling out onto the terraces to enjoy the
surprisingly warm evening. Officers, wives, Administrators,
citizens, teenagers, a few small children, and even several
enlisted men wearing eager and uncomfortable expressions lined the
walls of the Grand Hall, talking and laughing and . . .
mingling,
the word might be.

Dozens of couples were in the middle of the
Hall, twirling to bouncy little melodies played by the ten
musicians who sounded to Gadiman like the raucous birds that rudely
woke him every morning. The Chairman had ordered Gadiman to come,
and he conveniently missed The Dinner portion. Small talk was not
one of his strengths. Nor did it seem it would be necessary right
now either, since several people took a large step away from him as
he entered the open front doors.

Watch people. That’s what the Chairman said
to do. And don’t wear the red coat.

He always ‘watched’ people. He had crates
full of files to prove it.

But Mal had said there was a different kind
of watching. Gadiman looked around the crowded mansion for a corner
to lurk in. He praised himself again for choosing to wear the long
black coat which blended with the shadows cast by the hundreds of
candles burning along the walls, and from the chandeliers hanging
over the dance area.

He noticed an empty corner opposite of the
front doors and walked straight toward it. Several dancing couples
tripped and dodged away to avoid colliding with the unexpected
presence of the Administrator of Loyalty as he marched through the
dance floor, but he didn’t pay them any attention. He positioned
himself against the corner, feeling safe that no one could be
behind him.

And then he watched.

Five minutes later he wondered if it was
enough. It really was quite tiresome and he wasn’t getting anything
out of it.

But then he recognized Mrs. Mahrree Shin
talking with a girl that looked like a puff of yellow smoke. He
focused on the girl’s dark eyes: they were exactly like Colonel
Shin’s. She must have been their daughter.

Mrs. Shin, who had wedged herself between
side tables loaded with leftovers and desserts, was dressed in a
gray silk gown with a skirt that was uselessly twice as full as the
woman was wide. She smiled as she handed her flushed daughter a
glass of water.

A young officer in his dress uniform stood
waiting, presumably for his turn to dance with the girl, but his
face was partially obscured by other guests. The Shins’ daughter
handed the glass back to her mother, smiled at the young officer,
and took his arm.

As they turned to the dance floor, Gadiman
stood taller when he recognized the sandy-haired boy who looked a
great deal like his mother: Lieutenant Lemuel Thorne, Cush’s
grandson. Gadiman spotted Colonel QayinThorne over by another
corner and quickly made his way to him.

“Do you see what’s going on out there?”
Gadiman interrupted the colonel’s discussion with a visiting
major.

“Administrator Gadiman,” Colonel Thorne said
coolly, “may I introduce you to . . . . Hmm, looks like he left.
How surprising.”

“Out there!” Gadiman pointed. “Your son?”

Thorne looked out at the dancers and a
partial smile came across his face. “Yes, he’s dancing with Miss
Shin.”

“Do you think that’s wise?” Gadiman
hissed.

“Most definitely. I instructed him to find
her, in fact.”

“Why?”

Thorne turned his glare full on to Gadiman.
With his heavy brow and prominent nose, Thorne always reminded
Gadiman of an angry eagle. Gadiman had tried a few times to
replicate the expression in a mirror, but he always came off as
constipated rather than intimidating.

“Because, Gadiman,” Thorne sharpened his gaze
into piercing, “consider: the granddaughter of the High General of
Idumea with the grandson of his Advising General. Cush told me
himself that the Shin boy wants nothing to do with the army. If
Colonel Shin ever becomes a general, he will have no heir to
continue the tradition. But, if he has a ready son-in-law . .
.”

Gadiman nodded. “Ah, I see. After Perrin Shin
is High General, then your son would be the first High General
Thorne.”

Thorne’s low gurgling noise made Gadiman take
a hesitant step backward.

“No,” Thorne said between clenched teeth,
“
I
will be the first High General Thorne! I would have been
promoted to general by this evening had a certain old man been left
to rot in his cellar storage room. Cush would have been named High
General for the next four years until he retires, and I would have
been made his Advisor. But, as it is, I’ll have to bide my time a
bit longer, and make sure my son secures the line for yet another
generation of generals.”

Gadiman nodded. He could appreciate that kind
of long-term planning. But, “I thought Mal wanted to bring Shin to
Idumea?”

“Oh, he will,” Thorne said with a smile that
tried to be genuine but was too smug. “Snyd was hoping for a move,
but the garrison needs a new colonel in charge of requisitions and
other mundane things, so Shin can have the pleasure of serving
under me for a few years.”

Something in the way Thorne said “pleasure”
made Gadiman’s skin crawl, and he decided that was another Thorne
tactic he could try to practice.

“It will also give him some experience being
my
Advisor when I’m High General.”

Gadiman considered that. “But won’t having
him here make future research plans . . . complicated?”

“A natural assumption,” Thorne intoned,
“coming from someone who is easily confused. But for me, it will
create a scenario that will provide years of fascinating
entertainment. Mal and Brisack aren’t the only ones who can
straddle the fence to use both sides. Besides, my legs are much
longer. The world hasn’t seen anything yet.”

Gadiman blinked, sensing he’d been insulted
somewhere in there, but was too intrigued by what Thorne was
intimating to mention it.

“And with Shin’s daughter as my
daughter-in-law,” Thorne continued, “well, considering how securely
she has her father under her influence, she could be quite
valuable. After she’s been tamed, that is. Did you see them at
dinner?”