The rest of the afternoon, while Mahrree, Peto, and Jaytsy sorted out the candlesticks, they watched the stables from the back windows of the large gathering room and waiting for Perrin to return from visiting Administrators.

  “Mother,” Jaytsy began slowly as she rubbed wax off of a candlestick, “what do you think your bedroom looks like now?”

  “Thank you, Jaytsy. I hadn’t thought of that at all, but now I am,” Mahrree said miserably as she pushed a full crate toward Peto for him to set it by the terrace doors.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean . . . I just thought you had considered it. Maybe you could get new blankets and pillows and everything.” Jaytsy brightened. “This could be really good!”

  “Jayts,” Mahrree groaned, “you’ve been in Idumea too long. You’re looking for reasons to go shopping.”

  The sound of horse’s hoofs made them look out the window. Perrin rode into the stable and came out a moment later. He burst through the terrace door announcing, “We have Brisack, but with provisions,” he cringed. “And Windrow, Administrator of Agriculture.”

  Mahrree smiled hesitantly. “What about the others?”

  Perrin shook his head and shut the door. “Gone on holiday. I’d forgotten many leave after The Dinner for a short recess. They won’t be back for three more days.”

  “So we can’t leave before then,” Peto said hopefully. “So we could still see the first kickball tournament? The director’s box?” His voice grew tiny when he saw the severe demeanor of his father.

  “Peto,” Perrin said gravely, “our village is facing a catastrophe, and you’re worried about a game? You and your grandfather’s plots will just have to wait for when starvation isn’t a threat!”

  Any additional guilt-laden lectures Perrin had planned were going to have to wait, because they heard many more horses outside, muffled by the slushy snow. The Shins looked out the windows to see several soldiers arrive in a hurry. Their shouts even brought a slow-moving General Shin to the gathering room.

  “What’s going on out there?” he demanded as he reached the large windows. Joriana joined him as more soldiers on horseback arrived, now a dozen, and a few were pulling another soldier roughly off a horse.

  Perrin opened the terrace door. “What’s this all about?”

  Mahrree leaped to her feet and ran to the door to stand with Perrin, because there was something familiar about the man they threw to the white ground. A soldier placed a boot on his back to keep him down.

  “Colonel, he stole a horse from the fort at Pools. And the horse he left in its place came from an Administrators’ messenger service! How many more he took, we’re about to find out. We caught up to him about a mile away from here, but he insists that you’d want to see him,” a captain said doubtfully. “So I thought you’d enjoy the privilege of incarcerating him yourself. We also have reason to believe he stole that jacket as well. There’s no way he can be a master sergeant!”

  The prisoner looked up pitifully, bits of slushy snow stuck to his face.

  “Qualipoe Hili?” Perrin rushed over to him. “Mahrree!”

  But she was already running behind Perrin to reach Poe who looked as if he had recently been beaten up. An eye was swelling shut and he had a fresh cut on his cheek.

  “But Colonel!” the captain said, reluctantly removing his boot from his back, “He’s—”

  “I’ll take care of this myself, Captain!” Perrin snapped as he lifted a weary Poe from the ground, Mahrree supporting him on the other side. “You and your men are excused. NOW!”

  The soldiers looked at each other in surprise as the colonel put an arm around their prisoner and helped him into the mansion. Joriana was already holding open the door for them.

  “What’s happened, Private?” Perrin said as he and Mahrree brought him into the gathering room. “Why are you here? Sit down, sit down.”

  But instead Private Hili did his best to stand at attention after Perrin released him. Clearly exhausted, and with his bruised eye getting narrower by the moment, Poe looked nervously at the High General of Idumea. Relf nodded to him encouragingly.

  “Sirs, I have an important message to deliver first.” He took a deep breath and recited what he’d carefully memorized. “Lieutenant Colonel Shin—”

  He paused when he noticed the brass buttons on Perrin’s uniform, but went on with his speech.

  “Master Sergeant Zenos—and Major Karna,” he added as an odd aside, “sent me to inform you that the reserves from the fort and the village were all moved to School Building Number Two to keep them secure from arriving thieves that . . . I knew from a previous endeavor,” he said in a nervous rush. “We had reports that food stores have been stolen all over the northern villages. We realized that Building Number Two is a central location for better distribution to the citizens. But early this morning, a few hours before dawn, excessive snow on the roof caused it to collapse, destroying most of the reserves.”

  Mahrree gasped, and Joriana whispered, “Oh no!” Jaytsy and Peto just stared at Poe. Relf remained unmoved, and Perrin turned whiter than the snow.

  “When I left Edge before sunrise,” Private Hili continued formally, “there was already six inches of snow on the ground, with more still falling. We assume that the weight of the heavy snow weakened the roof. Two soldiers on guard were still trapped by the debris when I was dispatched to come to Idumea. Sir, we retrieved some reserves, but have food left for only about five more days. Neeks and Zenos predict freezing temperatures tonight. We don’t know what to do next. Many of the livestock has been butchered—” his voice began to quaver, “—and many more will be slaughtered over the next few days. But the people of Edge are beginning to panic, sir. We need your advice.”

  Mahrree couldn’t help herself. She rushed over to Poe, wrapped her arms around his scrawny body, and hugged him.

  Poe broke his formal stance and hugged her back. He closed his eyes and sighed. “I could use something to eat now, Miss Mahrree—I mean, Mrs. Shin.”

  She kissed him quickly on the cheek. “Of course! You look terrible, Poe. Sit down.”

  “It’s been a long night. And day.” He sat in a chair at the writing desk and sagged as Mahrree hurried off to the kitchen.

  Perrin pulled up a chair to sit down across from Poe, and the general motioned to Peto to get him a chair, too.

  Instead of responding to the news, Perrin leaned over and shook Poe’s overly large and ill-fitting jacket. “This isn’t yours, Private.”

  “No, sir,” he smiled weakly in apology. “But mine’s on underneath, so I’m not actually out of uniform. This was Master Sergeant Zenos’s idea. He thought I could get further in his jacket than in mine.”

  Jaytsy touched the sleeve of the jacket. “I miss Uncle Shem. Is he all right?”

  “Yes, and he wanted me to tell Mrs. Shin that we finished the roof two days ago. No snow is in your bedroom, sir,” he said to Perrin.

  Perrin smiled faintly. “Good old Shem,” he said, still avoiding talking about Edge. “So Private, why send you?”

  Private Hili looked over at the High General of Idumea again, obviously worried about what his answer may do to him.

  The general nodded once. “Go on, son. I’m interested in hearing this as well. Don’t worry; you were only following orders, right?”

  Private Hili cleared his throat. “Major Karna wanted to be sure you got the message as soon as possible, from someone at the fort. He and Zenos thought I would be the best to send, considering the hour and the way I may need to travel, my experience and everything.”

  “Your experience in stealing things like horses to hasten your progress?” Perrin suggested.

  Poe nodded guiltily. “The messenger system doesn’t like to lend out their horses to non-messengers, nor did Zenos or Karna think the messengers would relay our urgency as well. They thought that someone with my background and ability could get here better than anyone else. I’m sorry, sirs.” He tossed a pleading glance to General Shin.
r />   “You won’t be thrown into incarceration for horse theft or impersonating a superior, so don’t worry,” the general assured him. “I have a little clout here, Private.”

  “Even though I volunteered, sir?”

  High General Shin smiled slyly. “Now why would a mere private volunteer for such a risky task?”

  “To begin to repay a debt?” Poe whispered.

  Perrin just stared at him, his eyes growing wet.

  “And sir,” Poe turned to Perrin, “Zenos didn’t want Karna’s name mentioned, but Karna insisted his name be attached to this too. I haven’t been serving long enough to know who I’m supposed to obey—”

  Perrin smiled. “I’ll take care of it all, Hili.”

  Mahrree, who had come into the room a few moments before, cocked her head at Poe’s unusual words. She put down a plate full of food from The Dinner in front of the private. “I hope you find something there you like, Poe,” she said.

  “Yes ma’am!” Poe grinned at the options. He took a large bite of a pheasant leg and garbled with his mouth full. “Maybe Neeks was right. Grandpy said you might not want to come home after experiencing all of this.” Poe took in his elegant surroundings for the first time and shook his head. “I wouldn’t blame you, either. You live like kings here!” He took another aggressive bite and Perrin leaned over to pat him on the shoulder.

  “No Poe, we’re going home.” He looked at his wife, then his father. “I’ve decided: we’re leaving tomorrow, with the wagons. I want twenty now, Father—a ton of grain in each. The situation has changed.”

  “Oh, Perrin,” the general started and shook his head. “I’m not sure how we’re going to do that.”

  “It’s the right thing to do! You’re the High General of Idumea!” Perrin reminded him. “Doesn’t that mean something? You have clout, remember?”

  “Perrin!” Joriana snapped. “How dare you speak to him like that?”

  “Because Mother, five thousand citizens are going to starve soon,” said Perrin sharply. “And I refuse to just sit by and wait while a group of men bicker about if a bad law should change, and how, while people suffer. I want the general to do something about this!”

  General Shin looked at his son, holding is gaze for a moment. “And I will.”

  ---

  “But General,” Chairman Mal simpered in a sickly sweet tone, “the reserves are not for the citizens. You know that as well as I do.”

  Mal leaned back on the sofa in his grand gathering room and evaluated the High General seated across from him in a stuffed chair. For someone so frail, the general sat tall and commanding. He had a fire in his eyes the Chairman hadn’t seen for some time.

  “As much as I feel for the people of Edge, it’s just a tragedy, Relf. I’m sorry. We already let Moorland die. Perhaps we need to let Edge die, too.” Mal leaned forward. “We’ll send a messenger to tell the fort to start evacuation immediately. Within the next few days everyone can be housed in new villages—”

  General Shin shook his head. “That’s not an option, and you know that as well as I do. Many of the displaced citizens of Moorland moved to Edge! They probably just arrived. And with this snow, all of the other villages in the north will be suffering food shortages as well. According to the reports of the other commanders, the surrounding areas have just enough to get them through until the first crops come in. None of them can take an extra five thousand people! Thieves are looting all of the northern villages, and with this storm, who knows what kind of condition everyone’s crops are in!”

  Now the Chairman shook his head. “Relf, my friend, I know this is difficult. But it’s like—well, remember that calf, born a year or two ago, with the two heads? It just wasn’t meant to be. After a day it died. Nature’s way of taking care of what should not be. Relf, the land tremor, the snow, the ruined food stores—this is Nature’s way. Be grateful your family is here. We’ll put Perrin to good use at the garrison. Let those in Edge who are strong enough leave, and those who aren’t shouldn’t be reproducing anyway. Nature chooses who survives and who dies, and it’s choosing now.”

  “Nicko,” Shin’s voice was low and livid, “I never would’ve imagined such words from you. From King Querul the Third, yes. But from you?” He threw his hands up in exasperation. “Comparing the people of Edge to a deformed calf? Nature’s way? No! I refuse to accept that explanation! This isn’t Nature destroying a useless creature. This is an opportunity to help those in need. You want the citizens of the world to be loyal? Take care of them!”

  “Relf, Relf,” Mal held up his hands in a soothing manner which he knew would only further enrage the old soldier, “Brisack already has a way to provide aid. He has a coffer of gold precisely for this situation—”

  “They don’t need gold, Nicko! They need grain! There’s no food to buy anywhere, but there are barnfuls just sitting at the garrison doing nothing.”

  “But the reserves are different, Relf.”

  “Because it’s for us, Nicko?” General Shin asked pointedly.

  Mal sighed. “Consider: if we release even a fraction of the stores for Edge, we may have to do it for everyone. We simply can’t do that. How disastrous would it be if every village expected us to feed them? There’d be nothing left for us—”

  “This is a crisis!” Shin smacked the armrest. “It’s just to get them through! There’ll still be plenty left, and even to share with other northern villages if they need it. Edge will grow extra this year to repay what they took. Tax them higher if you must, but Brisack and Windrow are already in agreement to release the stores. You can push this through tonight.”

  “The Administrator of Taxation will not agree,” the Chairman said simply.

  “But if I put pressure on him, he will!”

  “Relf, just wait,” Nicko said smoothly, noticing how it only further ruffled Relf. “In three more days everyone will be back from their holidays, rested and happy and willing to help. Then we can discuss the need in Edge.”

  “And how long after you finish discussing will you release the food?” asked General Shin warily.

  Mal bobbed his head back and forth, considering. “We most likely will form a subcommittee to investigate the amounts needed, then have a decision in no more than . . . a week, I’d guess.”

  The general’s eyebrows shot up. “Perrin’s already figured out the amount! Did so this morning in conjunction with the keeper of the reserves. But no—you want to wait three days for everyone’s return, then another week to decide a number already figured out, then two more days for them to travel to Edge? That’s nearly two weeks! Half of the children could be dead by then!”

  The Chairman shook his head. “I don’t like the way Nature works either, Relf. But then again,” he tilted his head thoughtfully, “they wouldn’t need as much grain.”

  Shin smacked the armrest again. “It’s not Nature that’s killing them, it’s you!”

  Mal bristled. “General Shin, I don’t appreciate your accusations!”

  “And I don’t appreciate your willingness to let a whole village die!” Shin would have been on his feet if he had enough strength. “And for what? Food you’ll never eat? No one will ever eat? You want it just because you think it’s yours. But you didn’t plant it and you didn’t harvest it. You just took it. You don’t even need it. We never have. In eighteen years no one’s ever needed that surplus, until today. And now you’re demonstrating the same conceit as the kings. I didn’t help you get to power for this, Nicko!”

  Now the old wolf was going too far. “General Shin,” the Chairman’s voice was barely controlled, “I must inform you that you are bordering on traitorous speech.”

  Relf didn’t care. “Do you even remember why you wanted to be the leader? Why you formed this Administration? Or have you forgotten all those ideals you used to spout about at the university? ‘Here for the people!’ That’s what you proclaimed in the throne room the moment before I sent the execution squad to kill that idiot King Oren
on his throne.”

  General Shin shook his head and looked down at his hands that he clasped in front of him.

  “Just an hour ago,” began Relf quietly, “I was accused by an innocent young man of living like a king. And you know what? I do. We all do. I sat there wondering when that happened. When did we become what we destroyed?” He looked up. “Nicko, this is a way to reverse some of that.”

  The Chairman looked at his High General. He clasped his hands together in front of him too and spoke calmly. “Relf, we just need a little time. I promise you the first day everyone’s back, the crisis in Edge will be the first item of business. Maybe the subcommittee can be pushed forward a bit. Send me Perrin’s calculations, and I’ll do my best.”

  Shin stared at him for an entire minute before finally saying to the man squirming under his glare, “Nicko, it doesn’t sound like your best will be good enough.”

  ---

  Nicko Mal watched as General Shin was helped into his carriage by his lieutenant. It wasn’t until the carriage pulled away and was heading down the long drive that Mal waved over one of his guards.

  “Find Brisack and bring him here immediately. We have a problem that’s about to get a lot worse.”

  ---

  General Shin limped through his front doors shortly before dinner time.

  “He’s back!” called Joriana to the gathering room. The family rushed to meet the general in the Great Hall.

  General Shin waved to his lieutenant accompanying him from the trip to the Chairman’s mansion. “Riplak, in here. Perrin, Joriana, Mahrree, you too. Peto, get that private. I realize he hasn’t slept long, but we have business before us. Jaytsy, get me something to drink.”

  His grandchildren looked disappointed, but he smiled at them. “I promise you won’t miss anything.”

  He hobbled slowly to his study as those he called for followed him in. Without another word he sat at his desk, pulled out a piece of paper, and began to write.

  Perrin, Mahrree, and Joriana exchanged questioning glances while Riplak stood at attention and tried to surreptitiously see what the general wrote.

  A moment later Peto and Private Hili arrived, Poe trying to force his sleepy eyes open while standing at attention. Jaytsy darted in a moment later with a mug of juice she sat on the desk next to her grandfather.

  And then everyone stood as patiently as possible, the only sound in the room the small and rapid scritching of Relf’s quill.

  Perrin and Mahrree tried to trade some facial communication as to what this was all about, but Mahrree wasn’t as good at it as Perrin, and after a minute they both had confused scowls on their faces. Private Hili’s eyes kept closing and he swayed gently back and forth. Peto shifted his weight from one foot to the other, while Jaytsy worriedly studied her grandmother. Joriana pursed her lips as she watched her husband.

  Finally General Shin glanced up.

  “Close the door, please, Jaytsy. I’m writing something for you, Riplak.” He looked back down to continue writing as Jaytsy shut the door. “You’ll be a messenger tonight, Riplak. You get to ride all of the way to Edge, in fact.” He gave Riplak a small smile while the rest of his family watched, open mouthed. “I’m sure you’ve always wanted to see it. The mountains really are quite something up close. No one here appreciates them, but they’re impressive in the right light. You should be there to see the dawn.”

  He reached into his desk and pulled out his official mark to stamp the bottom of the message.

  “You’ll not delegate this assignment to anyone, Riplak, nor will you reveal the nature of your assignment to anyone. Kindiri will just have to hear about it later.”

  Then he lifted the paper.

  “It reads, ‘To the forts and messenger stations of the Administrators. Arriving shortly after this messenger will be an emergency caravan of twenty large wagons’—”

  Joriana clapped her hands happily and Mahrree and Perrin burst into big smiles, which they aimed at Poe, who closed his eyes in relief.

  The general cleared his throat. “You will have twenty teams of horses ready to relieve the horses coming, as well as four additional horses for riders. You will do all in your power to conscript these teams, using force if necessary. Officers and soldiers from Edge will see to it personally that the horses are returned within three days to their proper owners. You will do nothing to impede this messenger from his progress, and will provide him with whatever means of travel he requires. Also be prepared to avoid being deceived. There is increased Guarder activity at this time, and later messengers may try to convince you that the caravan is illegal—’”

  Mahrree was tempted to gasp but felt strongly that she should make no sound. No one did, but she noticed her children shifting anxiously.

  “‘Counterfeit messengers may even claim they are from the Administrators. But be assured that the stamp below from the High General of Idumea guarantees the legality of this caravan. Do all in your power to detain any counterfeit messengers until soldiers can retrieve them.’”

  The general looked at the stunned faces in front of him.

  “Riplak, you’ll present this message at each fort and changing post, take a new horse—I don’t care if the messenger servers complain; they answer to me as well as the Administrators—then move on to the next until you reach the fort in Edge. But try to use fort horses as much as possible, beginning with Pools. Many of the messenger posts recently experienced horse thefts and are likely a bit jittery.”

  Poe remained stoic and immovable, but Perrin smirked.

  “Present this message to those in the command tower in Edge,” Relf continued to Riplak, “to let them know that aid is on the way, and that they should be prepared for any kind of eventuality. Any questions?”

  “Just one, sir,” he said taking the message from the general’s hand. “May I start with the new bay from the Stables at Pools? He’s the fastest horse.”

  “Of course,” the general smiled. “Thank you, Riplak. And please be careful. Not a word to anyone. I don’t want you hurt.”

  “I appreciate that, sir.” Riplak folded the message quickly, shoved it in his shirt pocket under his jacket, then bounded out of the study.

  “Father—”

  Relf held up his hand to stop Perrin, listening for Riplak’s progress. Perrin stared hard at his father, but he wouldn’t look at his son. Instead he pretended to read the calculations Perrin had made on another piece of paper. Joriana wrung her hands, and Poe kept his eyes closed, most likely asleep on his feet.

  They heard the lieutenant exit through the front doors, and a moment later his horse left at a fast gallop.

  “Father, would you now mind explaining that bit about the Guarder activity?” Perrin said quietly.

  General Shin looked at each one of them with unusual sadness in his eyes. “You leave tonight. In one hour.”

  Each Shin gasped. Poe’s eyes popped open.

  “I’ve already sent a messenger to the garrison. Your twenty wagons should be hitched up in the next few minutes. They’ll be wanting these notes,” he held up Perrin’s calculations. “I thought your Private Hili would bring it over there.”

  “Yes sir!” Poe stepped up to take the page, but the general held on to it.

  “In a moment; I’m not finished yet. I just want all of you to know the importance of leaving as soon as possible.”

  “Because you got nowhere with the Chairman, did you?” Perrin asked in a dead tone.

  Relf stiffened at the implication. “I’m the High General of Idumea, Colonel Shin! I can order whatever I want. I can choose to make the most important decision of my career without anyone’s approval. Is that clear?”

  Perrin bit his lower lip, but his jaw still trembled as he regarded his father with renewed pride. “Absolutely, General!”

  Relf’s stance softened a bit, and he pretended to toss something on his desk. “That gesture would be a lot more impressive if I still had the key to the reserve to th
row down in dramatic emphasis, but I already sent it to the garrison with a messenger.”

  Joriana was growing pale. “Relf, what does this all mean?”

  Relf hobbled around his desk to his wife. “It means that I’ve ordered the reserves to be released without anyone else’s permission. There’s no real Guarder threat, but the threat of Nicko finding out and trying to stop us.”

  Mahrree squirmed anxiously and gripped the arms of her children on either side of her, on the pretense of reassuring them.

  “But I refuse to wait weeks for the Administrators to make a decision!” Relf declared. “People’s lives are more important than living like a king.” He glanced over at Private Hili, who gulped. “I’m convinced the Creator never intended anyone to live like a king. He created all of us equal. We’re to provide relief with the excess He has given us.” Relf put a hand on his wife’s arm. His tone was uncharacteristically gentle when he said, “You and I will just live with the consequences.”

  Joriana’s chin began to wobble. “Of course, of course.” She turned to her family. “You come back, as soon as you can. I can’t bear the thought of living in this big empty house without you!”

  Mahrree couldn’t fight the tears anymore. “Of course we’ll be back. Next season, even!”

  Everyone in the room knew it was a lie, but it felt good to hear it anyway.

  “Wasting time,” the general said in a shaky voice. “Get packing. The fort coach is getting ready as we speak. You women and Peto get it loaded up. Perrin, you and I and Hili will take my carriage to the garrison. I want to see to this personally.”

  Peto’s sudden movement caught everyone off guard. He rushed his grandfather, forgetting about his mending ribs, and caught him in a big hug.

  Relf wrapped his arms around him, as much for the support as for the embrace. “Glad you came, boy.”

  Peto nodded into his grandfather’s chest. Jaytsy turned to her grandmother and hugged her as well. The two of them began to sob so loudly Mahrree started to chuckle through her tears.

  Perrin caught Mahrree’s eye. “We’ll meet you at the garrison.” He glanced around the study as if trying to memorize the room. His gaze lingered on the large portrait of High General Pere Shin, and his shoulders slumped.

  Mahrree looked at her grandfather-in-law as well, his stern eyes still twinkling as they did the first morning. It was the right decision to leave with the reserves, he seemed to be saying. Sometimes only one man can go over the wall . . .

  . . . or release the stores.

  Pere Shin would be proud of his son.

  Perrin turned to Mahrree. “Don’t forget anything, all right? All my clothes should be in the wardrobe. Let’s go, Father. Peto, you can finish good-byes at the garrison.”

  Peto nodded and wiped away a tear. His grandfather gripped Peto’s head and kissed him quickly on the forehead, then hobble-marched out of the room with Perrin and Hili.

  ---

  “You’re absolutely sure about this?” Gadiman asked the lieutenant who stood in his dark doorway.

  “By the oaths, sir, yes.”

  Gadiman clenched his teeth, made a fist, and huffed. “Yes! Now go—we don’t want anyone to miss you. And get out of my way! I have a visit of my own to make.”

  Gadiman snatched his overcoat from the hook and put it on as he barreled out the back door.

  Finally!

  His chance to redeem himself was laid right at his doorstep. Thirteen years ago his plan to use two lieutenants to assassinate the High General and Joriana Shin at the fort of Edge had gone terribly wrong; there was a fool in his foolproof plan. The two lieutenants were found dead at door of the guest bedroom at the fort, their long knives protruding from their bodies, and Relf and Joriana Shin completely unharmed.

  Brisack said the officers killed each other, but the doctor had doctored their files himself. It was the cover story, but what truth was it covering? Gadiman had never been able to find out. He always suspected the problem was that Lieutenant Heth simply wasn’t ready, but Mal was sure he was.

  It would be his hunger that would make him succeed, Mal had insisted. The former Sonoforen—the Son of Oren; Gadiman never got that until just now—while he wanted to succeed, either wasn’t “hungry” enough or clever enough to pull it off.

  Desire rarely equates ability, yet simple-minded folks thought all they needed was something inane like believing in themselves to get whatever they wanted. But when, in all the history of the world, had that occurred except in made-up stories?

  It was hard work and patience that accomplished great things, at just the right moment. And someone, years ago, had seen the “right moment” and thwarted Gadiman’s well-planned assassination.

  Gadiman shook his head as he jogged along in the cold night. For so many years his failure had kept him from that inner circle in Mal’s library. So close he’d come to moving beyond being their errand man to becoming a strategist—

  Then Mal’s heart gave him problems. Brisack said it was caused by the failure in Edge, but Gadiman knew it was just another story.

  Then they stopped meeting so frequently, and the orders for Gadiman tapered off to nothing. But he kept waiting, and planning, and thinking.

  Then, only weeks ago, Mal invited him to his office to tell him he was bored and wanted to be entertained again. The Guarders were about to return.

  It didn’t take Gadiman long to make all the connections again. In fact, there seemed to be even more willing to renew the oaths. Several brought their sons, too. They were tired of thieving to support themselves, and wanted the direction that had come in the beginning, along with the easy gold.

  It was going to be better this time, Gadiman knew. No more of this petty thieving nonsense, oh no. Everyone was hungry, and they could earn their gold the honorable way through properly planned raids and murders.

  And, as proof that he was ready for the inner circle, tonight Gadiman had the perfect plan. There wasn’t any time for Mal and his library mouse to gab endlessly about what to do. By the time they finally came up with something, Gadiman would already be standing at the door, ready to show them the most spectacular success they’d seen in years.

  They once wanted Perrin Shin brought to his knees. Gadiman would present him writhing on the floor.

  ---

  The next hour was a blur.

  Mahrree knew all that she had to grab, but couldn’t seem to get a hold of any of it. As hastily as they came, they were more hastily leaving. She tried to shake off the heaviness of this parting. The Shins had visited them dozens of times before, but never had a visit been so full of unexpected drama, from start to finish. It shouldn’t have made a difference how they separated today, but somehow it did. The Shins were scheduled to visit them in Edge during Weeding Season. Perhaps it was the worry of what could happen until then that seemed to cripple Mahrree.

  As she fumbled to pack her husband’s uniforms and work clothes she smiled that maybe by Weeding Season both officers would be staring at a field of cattle, now their own, trying to figure out how to be ranchers. She loved the idea of father and son and grandson trying to corral the cows that ran in terror from Perrin.

  There were so many options, she assured herself as she shoved her new dresses into the bag, but purposely left the gray silk gown in the wardrobe. It’d be difficult to get all their new things to fit as it was.

  The men could rebuild houses and the collapsed school. Cultivate the catapult fields. Go into business with Poe Hili and become private guards for the Edge of Idumea housing community. Someone needed to man the gates they just put in. Who better than the man who created the need for the gates, and the man who—usually—stopped him? Relf could do the paperwork.

  Mahrree laid Perrin’s dress uniform on top and ran her hand over the medals and ribbons. Silly little decorations. Chasing cows and thieves were much better vocations.

  Before she had time to wonder what to do with the rest of her new clothe
s, Joriana came to the door, pushing a huge crate filled with dresses.

  “Add anything you don’t really like to the pile, dear. That purple one doesn’t flatter your eye color,” she huffed, a few stray hairs dangling out of her perfect bun. “Surely someone in Edge can use these things. Some of these I haven’t touched in years. Seems a waste doesn’t it? Clothes should be worn.” Tears filled her eyes again and she rushed out of Mahrree’s room before she could respond.

  There could be a place for her as well in Edge, Mahrree decided as she tossed the rest of her clothing into the crate. Someone needed to teach Edgers how to dance. Joriana could be as resourceful as Kuman.

  A thought sprung into Mahrree’s mind, and she nearly laughed out loud. Hycymum could sew, and these two grandmothers could make a wonderful dress shop, as long as they didn’t drive each other insane with their ideas of what was elegant. Hycymum always thought everything should be accented with a flower or a stylized insect that looked ‘charming.’ Joriana thought embellishments should consist of jewels and gold. Mahrree combined the two in her mind and shuddered at the thought of jewelry cockroaches.

  Still, it had potential.

  ---

  Perrin clapped a hand on Private Hili’s shoulder as they stood outside in the growing dark and watched the hitching of the forty horses to the twenty wagons. Perrin only wished it wasn’t by torchlight. So many animals, wagons, and men working together would have been a grand sight for Poe to witness. High General Shin was in the Reserve Storehouse nearby, recommending how to load the goods for the best balance of weight.

  “Doing all right, Poe?” Perrin asked quietly. “I’m sorry to be sending you back north already. Most people never get to Idumea.”

  “It’s all right, sir,” Poe assured him. “My welcome to the city wasn’t the friendliest. I don’t have a lot of desire to stay.”

  Perrin squeezed his shoulder. “I am sorry about that, but very grateful. You’ve done a brave and exceptional thing today. I made arrangements for you on the third wagon. You can nap on the bags of dried apples.”

  Poe turned quickly to him. “No, sir. I thought I was riding with you!”

  Perrin shook his head. “You’ve slept only a few hours—”

  “You’d be surprised what I accomplished with only a few hours of sleep, sir.” Poe cleared his throat. “Or, perhaps shocked.”

  When Perrin chuckled sadly, Poe added, “Remember—I’m Mr. Out All Night. I can help you, sir. I’ve had a few lessons with the sword, too. And more recently than when I was nine and you taught me how to hold one. Apparently I’m a natural.”

  Perrin didn’t answer right away, but watched the positioning of another wagon for yet another team of horses.

  “How about you act as a relief driver?” he eventually suggested. “Each wagon will have two drivers, one to drive, the other with his long knife out and ready. You could still rest, then—”

  “I can handle it, sir,” Poe promised.

  Perrin felt his shoulder droop under his hand.

  “Oh. I see now. Sorry, sir.”

  “Sorry about what, Poe?”

  “You don’t trust me yet. I don’t blame you—”

  “That’s not it at all, Private,” Colonel Shin said firmly. “I have complete faith in you. You’ve already demonstrated your devotion to me and to Edge.” Then, in a gentler tone he added, “But Poe, you look thin and exhausted. I really am just worried about you.”

  Poe grinned. “Sir, I always look thin and exhausted. And I promise, all I need are a few hours of sleep, and I’m good for the rest of the night. Try me!”

  Perrin slapped him on the back. “Then go get us two mounts. And uh, Poe? Ask for them this time.”

  ---

  Somehow Mahrree, Jaytsy and Peto got everything packed in bags and two large crates. Even Peto’s new ball from his grandfather was shoved into a corner of the coach that wasn’t occupied by food that Joriana had Kindiri pack. Two captains from the garrison loaded everything into the coach, and all too soon it was time to go.

  Mahrree felt as if she could barely breathe from the rush of it all. Was it really just last night that she was watching the dancers and her husband, who nearly all of Idumea came out to meet?

  But also just last night she’d been so homesick for Edge. Now that she was heading back there she was confused to find herself missing Idumea. Her head pounded so much with trying to sort it all out that she just wanted to sit on the ground and wail like the baby Perrin held in his arms.

  But it was time to go.

  Peto and Jaytsy climbed in the coach, both of them sniffling and subtly wiping their eyes. Before Mahrree took to the coach steps, she looked to say goodbye to the majestic house, but she had to turn away. There was much she disliked about Idumea, but she had to confess that on an occasion or two she had fancied herself as mistress of the mansion. She’d even paid attention to where Joriana placed all of the notes from The Dinner. Those were the moments when she forgot she was Edgy.

  But then she’d remember there was no place else that could ever be home.

  From the kitchen Kindiri came running with a basket to interrupt her disparate thoughts. “Mrs. Shin—here!”

  Mahrree took the basket. “Apples?”

  “Yes,” Kindiri panted. “I overheard you one day telling Mrs. Shin that you haven’t seen these in Edge since last year. And since you’re leaving so suddenly, I wanted to give you something for your trip home. I found them in the cellar. I trust all will be well.”

  She wasn’t very good at that, Mahrree thought. Her obvious wink when she said “trust” nearly bobbed her entire head. Mahrree suspected Kindiri hoped her gestures would be enough to keep Mahrree from telling Joriana, who stood right behind her, about her and Riplak’s late night dalliances.

  Mahrree smiled guardedly at Kindiri, because she’d already decided to send Joriana a letter when she got back to Edge. “Yes, I trust they will be as well. Thank you for the apples, and remember to lock your door,” she added in a whisper.

  “I will,” Kindiri lied.

  Mahrree turned to her mother-in-law.

  “Oh, I’m coming with you! As far as the garrison, that is,” Joriana added as she prodded Mahrree to get into the coach.

  Mahrree gripped her arm. “And then come to Edge, as soon as you can. Just bring a bag of grain.”

  They climbed in the coach for the short ride to the garrison. Joriana put her arm around her daughter-in-law as they sat next to each other on the bench, leaning sadly against each other.

  “Be careful, all right?” Mahrree said to her.

  “I was about to say that to you,” Joriana sniffed.

  “Grandmother,” said Jaytsy, with tears in her eyes, “are you and Grandfather going to be in trouble?”

  Joriana put on a brave smile that looked convincing in the growing darkness. “The Administrators owe us a great debt. If we’re in trouble, then it’s just a little. Perhaps we’ll retire early.”

  “And come to Edge,” Mahrree repeated.

  Joriana nodded. “That’s a possibility I’m entertaining more every minute, Mahrree.”

  ---

  Perrin made his way over to the Reserve Storehouse. The loading of the twenty oversized wagons, designed extra deep and long for hauling supplies to forts, was nearly finished.

  High General Shin came out to watch with his son as dozens of soldiers methodically moved bag after bag into last wagon. Frost was definitely in the air, and Perrin was grateful he remembered to wear his thick riding coat.

  Relf leaned slightly against him. It’d been a draining couple of days for a man who nearly died not too long ago. “I estimate you have a good eight hours ahead of you before any Administers realize you’re gone without permission,” Relf told him. “Maybe even twelve. Barring any breakdowns or delays, you could even be home by tomorrow evening. Don’t push the caravan any faster than you have to. These are tremendous loads and the horses will be well-strained as it
is.” In a quieter tone he added, “And with most of the Administrators gone until after Holy Day, you may have everything distributed before any of them even realize what’s happened.”

  The Edge fort coach containing Mahrree, Joriana, and the children rolled up to the storehouse. Perrin sighed when he saw it. It meant the end.

  “Well, this is it, I suppose,” Relf said to his son. He stood tall, supporting himself with his crutch, and formally held out his hand.

  Perrin looked at it, insulted. “That’s not going to be good enough tonight, Father.”

  “It’s going to have to be,” Relf said stoically. “We’re on garrison land.”

  Perrin shook his head. “I don’t care. I’m going to say something to you,” he said with the beginnings of a smile. “And you’re going to hear it.”

  “No, son. That’s the kind of thing you say when you think you won’t see someone again. Save it for later.”

  Perrin smiled at the diversionary tactic. Relf had a dozen of those. “I don’t have to save it. I have an unlimited supply of words, saved up for the past forty-three years. And when you feel a great debt of gratitude and respect, and want someone to know—” He began to choke, unable to finish the preamble that wasn’t getting him any closer to what he wanted to say.

  “I know,” Relf said quietly. “Really. The feeling’s mutual.”

  Perrin shook his head, ignoring the tears that made his eyes itch. He was a full colonel, for crying out loud. How hard could this be? “No, you’re going to hear it! I know that look of dread in your eyes. It’s the same look you had when you walked Mahrree to the fort when you first met her. Father—” He was so sure he could say it this time, but the words piled up in his throat again.

  Relf took his son’s hand instead, pulled him close and, for the first time Perrin could remember, hugged him. “I love you too, son,” he muttered as his crutch clattered to the ground.

  “I love you, Father,” he whispered back and chuckled. “Now, how did you say it first? Because I’ve been practicing it in my head for days now!” He pulled away from the general and grinned blurrily at him.

  “I’ve been practicing for years,” Relf said gruffly and feigned a cough as cover.

  ---

  Mahrree had let herself out of the coach and stared in astonishment at the Shin men . . . hugging? Something in her heart twanged. She put her hands on her hips as father and son stepped away from each other and looked at the coach almost sheepishly.

  “When Shins decide to break rules, they break all of them, I see. General, may I be next?” and she held out her arms.

  To Perrin’s growing surprise, Relf hobbled over to oblige her.

  “Take care of him, all right?” Relf said in her ear. “And yourself?” He kissed her on the cheek.

  “Of course. And thank you for everything.” She squeezed him gingerly. “I really enjoyed getting to know Relf.” She stepped back just in time to see the High General of Idumea quickly wipe away a tear.

  Realizing he started a trend, Relf held out his arms to his willing grandchildren.

  Mahrree turned so as to not see their embrace. She was sure her heart would crack in half at any moment. But she turned the wrong way, and found Perrin holding his mother who was sobbing uncontrollably.

  “Just come to Edge, Mother. We’ll take care of you. Hycymum has room, I’m sure.”

  Joriana laughed in her sob, which was extremely inelegant.

  Perrin kissed her on the cheek. “I love you, Mother. Watch out for him, and yourself.”

  Joriana couldn’t speak but nodded as she kissed her son on the cheek, and didn’t even bother to wipe it off. She turned to Mahrree for another hug, needing someone to embrace.

  “Thank you for being so aggravating!” she whispered to Mahrree.

  Mahrree laughed softly. “Thank you for forcing us to Idumea. I’ll never forget these days. The Dinner was remarkable, and so are you.” And, remembering what Relf told her last night before The Dinner, she added, “I’m so impressed.”

  “You’ll be back, you know,” Joriana squeezed her tighter, obviously hearing what she wanted. “You will be in that mansion, and I’ll sit in that guest house and nag you all the time.”

  “I hope so, Mother.” Mahrree turned to Perrin and saw him holding the reins of a horse. There was no more time to spare.

  “I’ll ride behind you. We have only four guards: Hili and me, and two lieutenants. We won’t need more, I’m sure,” he said to her worried expression. “Can’t take too many garrison soldiers,” he whispered. “Even though Thorne’s got thousands here, he’s still not going to be pleased when he wakes up and finds about fifty of them missing.”

  Perrin watched his father finally release his grandchildren. He kissed each of them, and they rushed back to their grandmother for one last goodbye.

  “Need to go, now,” Relf said, wiping away another tear which defied the general. “There are hungry people waiting for you.”

  Relf tried to help Mahrree in the coach, and she pretended to let him. She watched as Relf lent a hand to each of his grandchildren, then stepped away from the coach and put an arm around his wife.

  It occurred to Mahrree she’d never seen him do that before.

  Joriana gripped her husband’s free hand and smiled fearlessly. Mahrree wondered if she was wearing the last dress she owned.

  Jaytsy and Peto, seated on either side of Mahrree since the bench across from them was occupied by crates of Joriana’s clothing, leaned to look out the window and waved miserably at their grandparents.

  Perrin mounted his horse and called over to the lead driver of the caravan who was waiting for the command. “I’ll take the back with the fort coach. You take the lead with the two lieutenants.”

  The soldier nodded and slapped the reins on his team to start the caravan.

  “Hili,” Perrin called to the private who was waiting on his mount several paces away, “ride near the tenth wagon. You can be the go-between man. Keep track of the condition of the horses. Let me know if any look like they’re failing.”

  Hili nodded to Perrin before saluting the High General.

  The general saluted him back and smiled. Mahrree would later tell Poe Hili how rare an honor that smile was.

  The Shin family watched in silence as the horses and the twenty full wagons headed toward the open gates of the garrison. It was only a short trip through the garrison to the open road reserved for the army through Idumea, where the horse teams would be spurred on to a gallop. The drivers knew time was of the essence, and that the loss of a horse or two was far less important than the loss of human lives. The first relief teams would be encountered in twelve miles.

  When the last of the wagons approached, and the coach followed to bring up the end, Mahrree peered out the window at her in-laws one last time.

  Perrin was also looking at his parents standing together in the cold.

  They gave him proud smiles.

  Perrin sat up tall and saluted his father.

  His father stood at solid attention and saluted back.

  Then Colonel Shin kicked his heels into his mount and followed the coach out of the garrison.

  Chapter 19 ~ “Mother, who’s driving the coach?”