The Mansions of Idumea (Book 3 Forest at the Edge series) (54 page)

Everyone immediately turned back to their
conversations, stealing only occasional glances of the colonel and
the baby. It wasn’t difficult to imagine what they were talking
about.

But Gadiman continued to watch Colonel Shin.
Relf Shin wanted him to become the High General of Idumea? How
could a decorated nursemaid hope to achieve High General?

Gadiman noticed Mrs. Shin approach her
husband and hold out her hands to take the baby.

“Finally!” Thorne muttered. “Enough of that
behavior.”

But Colonel Shin shook his head and gestured
to his wife to come closer. She bent down and he whispered
something in her ear that was amusing enough that she laughed and
he winked at her. She kissed him on the head and left.

“Unbelievable!” Thorne hissed to Gadiman.
“How long is he going to make a fool of himself?”

A colonel from another village hesitantly
approached Shin. He looked up from the baby, smiled, and patted the
chair next to him. The colonel sat cautiously and Shin said
something to him that made the colonel chuckle. He put a shielding
hand over the medals on his uniform and shook his head.

Gadiman leaned against the wall to watch the
colonels talk. The Thornes and Cushes were now engaged in a
conversation with the Administrator of Science, giving Gadiman time
to focus on Colonel Shin.

Shin seemed to keep one eye on his visitor
and the other on the baby, occasionally running his hand over the
child’s fuzzy black hair. After a few minutes the visiting colonel
patted Shin on the back and left him. Doctor Brisack was waiting
for the empty chair and approached.

At last, Gadiman thought to himself. Evaluate
the instability of the man, and let me go home to a quiet
evening—

But the inane doctor was all smiles, and
Gadiman slouched against the stucco wall discouraged because his
night wasn’t about to get any shorter.

Shin nodded to the chair next to him and the
Administrator of Family Life happily sat to chat. For two more
songs, Colonel Shin hosted guests in that manner while entertaining
the baby.

Gadiman failed to see what he should be
picking up from this, except that the young couple had a free baby
tender.

Most of the guests in the room had become
accustomed to the scene playing out in the corner, but when the
baby began to wail while the colonel spoke to an elderly widow,
every eye looked at the colonel while trying to appear not to do
so. He seemed concerned as he stood the baby on his lap. The
infant’s chubby legs couldn’t yet fully support him, but the
colonel looked into his hollering mouth. The musicians were playing
an exceptionally loud melody, so that the baby’s parents didn’t
hear the cries.

The colonel sat the baby back down on his
lap, then did something that made even the most battle-hardened
soldiers cringe—he deliberately put his thumb in the baby’s mouth
and rubbed his lower gum. The baby grabbed his hand and chomped
down, but the colonel only winced a smile and nodded.

Gadiman was completely at a loss for an
explanation. “Disgusting!”

The elderly woman patted the colonel on the
arm with an approving smile and shuffled off. The baby leaned
against Colonel Shin as he stood up, now with his knuckle in the
baby’s mouth. The musicians began a slower song, and the colonel
repositioned the baby and began to rock.

Gadiman’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He
became even more perplexed when Joriana Shin came to speak to the
colonel and started swaying in time with her son, without a baby in
her arms. She left to have a word with the ensemble’s conductor who
nodded toward the colonel.

More people approached Colonel Shin with a
brief comment or a lengthy discussion. He frequently paused in his
conversations to reposition the baby or his finger. By the end of
the second soothing piece, which the musicians seemed to play
specifically for the colonel, the baby was asleep.

The young lieutenant and his wife came up to
the colonel, flabbergasted. The mother held out her arms but the
colonel shook his head, held the baby closer, and gave her a
threatening look. She beamed at him, took her husband’s willing
arm, and headed back out to the dance floor.

Gadiman didn’t understand any of it. But now
he knew the Shin family was odder than he could have imagined.

---

For the next two hours Colonel Shin, Baby
Tender of The Dinner, entertained his guests over the sleeping
infant cradled in his brawny arms.

Mahrree looked over at him frequently and
grinned. He always loved babies. As handsome as he was wielding his
sword, she always thought he looked even better snuggling a
child.

By the time the tired musicians ended for the
evening, Lieutenant and Mrs. Nelt, looking exhausted themselves,
finally relieved the colonel. Mahrree watched from a
non-interfering distance as Perrin gingerly placed their sleeping
son in his mother’s arms and stroked the curly black hair on his
head.

“Once he cuts that tooth, he’ll be a
different baby. Until the next one starts to emerge. But he’s a
good little boy. Enjoy him. Babies tend to grow up.”

The baby’s mother tiptoed to kiss the colonel
on the cheek.

Perrin smiled at her, a bit bashfully, which
Mahrree thought was completely adorable.

“Sometimes it just takes an experienced set
of arms,” he told Mrs. Nelt. “Years ago in the village green an
elderly grandfather took a few minutes to calm down our infant son
for us. I’ve never forgotten him and always wanted to repay that
service. Now remember, Lieutenant,” Perrin said in a playfully
stern tone to the young husband, “take her out of the house every
few weeks. You both need the time alone. And since I’ll be leaving
soon, I’m afraid you’ll have to find a new baby tender.”

The lieutenant chuckled. “Or maybe just get
transferred to Edge?”

“Not a bad idea! I could use a tactful scribe
to keep me out of trouble.” He saluted the young family away.

Mahrree finally found her moment to join her
husband now that most of the guests were leaving. It was the first
time she dared approach him.

During the dance he’d been flanked by
officers and Administrators who so intimidated Mahrree that she
kept to the food tables, signaling occasionally to the servants to
fill them again. They really didn’t need her directions, but she
needed something to do where no one of importance would expect
anything significant of her.

She also kept a close eye on her daughter who
danced at least five times with Lieutenant Thorne. Watching Jaytsy
was supposed to have been her father’s task, but it seemed everyone
in Idumea wanted a few moments with Perrin Shin.

Mahrree had been completely unprepared for
that. She’d expected the two of them would huddle in a corner all
evening and make impolite comments about the clothing they saw. She
thought she’d only have to endure The Dinner alone, seated a little
ways down the table from him.

But that was only the beginning of Colonel
Shin, Most Popular Man at The Dinner. At the head of the three
dinner tables sat the most powerful men of the evening: General
Shin at one, General Cush at another, and Perrin uncomfortably at
the third, smiling tightly at the guests who looked to him to begin
the eating and conversation.

To her surprise, Mahrree had been seated next
to the Administrator of Science who thought nothing much of a
little woman from Edge, and engaged in only the briefest of
conversations with her.

Not that she didn’t try to be polite to the
man who had decided on several occasions that it was too dangerous
to send expeditions to Terryp’s ruins. She was quite cordial when
she asked if he’d be sending anyone north to research the
devastation of the land tremors.

Hutchins merely curled a lip and said,
“Enough destruction here to investigate.”

When she told him Deceit had been smoking,
and hinted that may be strong evidence that perhaps the volcano was
connected to the tremors, his scowl became more pronounced and he
said, “So have suggested others with more knowledge.”

Then, after great consideration as to the
potential harm of the question, and concluding that Hutchins
wouldn’t be able to do much with it, she suggested, “Terryp, in his
travels many years ago to the eastern ruins, found carvings
describing what happens when a volcano erupts. Perhaps it may be a
good idea to send a team in search of those etchings that told the
history of Deceit?”

Hutchins only stared at her as if she were a
pile of rocks that was growing duller by the minute—or maybe a pile
of rocks would have been more intriguing to him—and eventually
said, “Pass the butter, Mrs. Shin.”

And that was the extent of Mahrree’s dinner
conversation.

Across the table Jaytsy fared better, seated
between two older women, and far away from any handsome young men.
Mahrree was sure Perrin had something to do with that.

Peto was next to his grandmother at the table
headed by General Shin, who managed the night without pillows
propping him up. A few times Mahrree was able to glimpse Peto
between the heads of other guests, and saw his grandmother elbowing
him to eat slower and less noisily.

The meal seemed to take all night, but it was
likely only an hour. At least she could watch her husband since few
conversations were sent her way. He soon relaxed in his position
and was easily addressing everyone within the sound of his voice.
There was decidedly more laughter from their table than from the
other two, especially when Perrin engaged in good-natured arguments
with Jaytsy, which delighted everyone around.

Jaytsy really was quite radiant that night,
Mahrree was reluctant to admit as she watched her daughter who
seemed much older than barely fifteen. There was something in her
eyes, exactly like her father’s. How they could be so dark but
sparkle so bright, Mahrree would never understand. She was far more
poised than Mahrree expected, and Mahrree wished she had some of
that confidence herself. When Jaytsy got up, at her grandfather’s
insistence, to explain to everyone about the Strongest Soldier
Race, Mahrree was in awe. Jaytsy commanded the room—and their
laughter—with the kind of ease Mahrree used to pretend for herself.
If only debating were still allowed, Jaytsy would have been
astonishing on the platform in front of the village, just as her
father had been.

So for most of The Dinner Mahrree sat in
silence, trying bits of food here and there, and not really tasting
any of the fantastic dishes set before her. The fact that she was
seated next to an actual Administrator made her perspire, but she
soon realize Relf was right; none of the Administrators were really
interested in her, but in evaluating the health of High General
Shin. Administrator Hutchins kept leaning toward Mahrree so as to
have a better view of Relf. At one point Mahrree found herself
staring at the man’s balding head instead of the roasted lamb on
her plate, and privately mused how similar the two appeared.

Fortunately High General Shin was as robust
as ever, eating well and talking loudly. Joriana beamed at her
husband, relieved and triumphant that another Dinner was moving
along remarkably well. Mahrree was happy for them both, but
frequently checked the sand clock on the mantle over the fireplace
to see just how much longer this was going to take.

A few times Perrin caught her eye during
dinner as if plotting a way to get her to speak, but she’d barely
shake her head and beg him with her eyes to not say anything to
her. So he’d direct his conversations elsewhere while Mahrree just
watched him and marveled.

Everyone seemed to enjoy lingering at the
tables and eating from the trays of extraordinary dishes that were
replaced with precise regularity by the staff Joriana had hired.
Twenty servers hovered near each table ready to take platters
emptying with food only to replace them with something even more
delectable.

Mahrree wished she could’ve joined them. She
would’ve preferred to wash the mountains of dishes and chat with
the workers rather than smile stiffly at people who regarded her
with expressions that said,
You really don’t belong here,
dear.

She didn’t belong in the kitchen, either.
She’d tried, though.

When everyone got up from the tables and
wandered outside to enjoy the warm evening, a small corps of
soldiers marched in and moved the chairs to the sides of the
hallway while servants swifted away the dishes and linens. That’s
when Mahrree picked up a platter and carried it to the kitchen,
fully intending to find an apron to make herself useful.

“Oh, no you don’t, ma’am!” an older woman her
mother’s age chided. “You’re a host. The host takes care of her
guests, not the dishes.”

“You don’t understand—my mother-in-law is the
host. I’m just . . . helping,” which was her original excuse for
coming to Idumea.

“Well, I don’t want you!” the woman declared.
“See that list? For the past eighteen years I’ve been perfecting
it. Each of the seventy-three servants hired for this evening has a
specific job on that list, and will be paid for those jobs. You
take any of their work, they won’t be pleased with you. And neither
will Mrs. Joriana Shin. Because no one—”

Mahrree repeated it with her. “—wants to
disappoint Joriana Shin. I know,” she sighed. The woman took her
firmly by the shoulders, spun her, and sent her out the door.

Already the soldiers had removed the borrowed
tables to wagons waiting to convey them back to the garrison. The
Great Hall was transformed almost instantly, and opened for dancing
as the guests drifted back in to the sounds of the musicians tuning
their instruments.

So Mahrree stood next to the two mansion
tables pushed to the side of the Hall, as if it were her duty to
occupy that space and oversee the consumption of the leftovers and
desserts waiting on them.