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

An hour later the Shin family was installed in their new quarters, three large bedrooms on the main level of the east wing of the house, usually reserved for visiting officers from outer lying forts.

  While Perrin sat with his unconscious father telling him all about the land tremor in Edge, Joriana gave Mahrree, Jaytsy, and Peto a tour of the magnificent house and showed them their rooms.

  Mahrree could hardly take it all in. During the tour of both levels, taking in rooms and furnishings and tables and windows and fireplaces and candlesticks and washing rooms and stables and gardens, Mahrree kept asking herself, What have we got ourselves into? Never had she imagined such luxury or grandeur. It was most overwhelming and, when she thought of her little house that seemed to shrink by the minute, humiliating. She belonged there as much as those raccoons belonged in her wardrobe. In a moment she would probably be noticed, screamed at, and then would have to run away with someone’s stolen stocking.

  Except when Mahrree saw the massive bed she and Perrin would share. Suddenly, she realized she just might be able to tolerate living there for a time, if the mansion would tolerate her.

  “A bed! A real bed!”

  “You don’t have a bed anymore, Mahrree?” Joriana said.

  “Under all kinds of debris I do. Perrin and I have been sleeping on the sofa. He tends to hog it all, too.” She slid her hand longingly across the smooth and clean covers. “At least we could move it back inside a few days ago.”

  “That beautiful sofa was outside?” Joriana asked, horrified.

  “It really wasn’t that bad,” Mahrree waved off the concern. “It served us well. And I don’t think it was damaged too much.”

  “But the sun could have faded the colors!”

  “Well, usually there was a soldier sleeping on it during the day, so it was mostly protected.”

  It seemed silly to Mahrree to be fretting about the sofa now, especially after she saw five in the enormous sitting room. Who cares about furniture when lives are at stake? But right then Mahrree could focus only the beautiful bed covered with light blue matching blankets and pillows, just begging her to test it out.

  Her mother-in-law noticed. “I think you best try it first, to see if it’s comfortable enough. If not, there are four more bedrooms you can try. Go on—lay down.”

  Mahrree shook her head at the thought of four more rooms and laid down gingerly, not sure how to negotiate around all the pillows. She closed her eyes, sank into utter delight, and sighed.

  Her mother-in-law chuckled quietly. “So I suppose this will do? Oh, it’s so good to have you all here!”

  Mahrree felt marvelous for two seconds until Peto came into the room. “Mother, I’m hungry.”

  “I think that’s all you ever say anymore,” she mumbled with her eyes still closed.

  “Dinner will be ready soon.” Joriana kissed her grandson on the forehead. “Cook will ring the bell when it’s ready.”

  “You have a cook?” Jaytsy joined them and looked around. “Oh, Mother, this room’s nice, but not as nice as mine. Everything in there is a shade of green.”

  “I have the red room,” Peto bragged as if red were somehow inherently better than green.

  “Yes, we have a cook, Jaytsy,” her grandmother told her. “And also two maids who live upstairs as well, in the smaller bedrooms I told you about, because this house is just too large—”

  So that’s how you sweep this all up, Mahrree thought groggily as she sank deeper into the bed. You pay others to do it. Why didn’t I ever think of that?

  “—so you won’t need to make your beds in the morning,” Joriana told her grandchildren.

  “Oh, Mother?” Jaytsy said in an annoying sing-song voice she saved for when she knew she was about to win an argument.

  “Hmm?” Mahrree answered from the bed, her eyelids pressed together in a futile attempt to ignore her children.

  “A cook and two maids . . . exactly why is it you don’t want Father to become a general?”

  Mahrree sighed. “Ah Jayts, I hardly remember right now.”

  And that was the truth. One somebody to cook, and two more somebodies to clean up? Then all she’d have to do was take care of her husband? It sounded like Paradise . . .

  “Perrin not be a general?” Joriana exclaimed. “Why, it’s in his blood! Mahrree, surely you must see that.”

  “But Edge doesn’t need a general, does it Mother Shin?” Mahrree murmured, the conversation blurring in her mind as she blearily considered that maybe all of this was just a dream, and she’d wake up a moment later on her old sofa with another kink in her neck. “If he gets promoted to general, where do we go?”

  “Why, here of course!” Joriana squealed so loudly Mahrree realized she would have woken up from the ringing in her ears had it been a dream. The neck kink might have been preferable.

  “Oh Mahrree, children, you’d love it here! You’re staying for three weeks, right? That’s what I said in the message, and when Relf improves we can show you what you’re missing.”

  Mahrree cringed inwardly. They had no idea if Relf would improve, but right now Joriana was clinging to any kind of happiness she could snatch. Mahrree wasn’t about to bat that away.

  “Perrin’s been ill-tempered about Idumea for years now,” Joriana went on desperately, “but I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. And if anyone can change his mind, it’s you. Imagine how wonderful it’d be if you were here all the time.”

  Mahrree smiled from her prone position. “You’re right, Mother Shin. It’s wonderful to be here right now.”

  A bell dinged from down the Grand Hall.

  “Peto, I believe that’s for you,” Joriana said cheerfully, as if everything was working out just as she planned. “After dinner I’ll relieve Perrin and sit with Relf so you can start telling him—”

  “No, no!” Mahrree forced herself to sit up, even though every muscle in her body disagreed with the effort. “That’s what we’re here for. I mean, not to convince Perrin to love Idumea, but to take care of the general. It’s my turn after dinner. You show me how to get the water down him, then you take your grandchildren on a walking tour of this marvelous neighborhood. Doctor’s orders.”

  “No, those are not the doctor’s orders. He told me to take them shopping,” Joriana told her smartly. “But, since the shops are closed for the night, maybe a quick stroll around the neighborhood? Stretch out those long legs of yours?” She squeezed Jaytsy’s arm.

  On the way through the Grand Hall down to the eating room—Grand Eating Room, Jaytsy decided it should’ve been named because of its massive size and the table that could seat forty people, but Peto countered that the name suggested the room was eating them—they passed the study.

  Mahrree crept over to the open door and listened to Perrin talking to his father, giving him details of each rescue effort. He still held Relf’s hand but gestured enthusiastically with his other. At least the soldier on guard seemed entertained.

  During dinner, Mahrree decided that under any other circumstance she would have felt guilty eating as she did. The spread before them was even greater than at Harvest Festival, and although Mahrree knew the food was also destined to feed the maids, the cook, the soldier sitting at guard, and the stable hands, she was still overwhelmed at the variety.

  Maybe it was because she knew back home in Edge people were scraping together the last of their larders to make just one satisfying meal. It was only with the worry about her father-in-law, and the anxious prodding of her nearly hysterical mother-in-law to “Eat! Eat more!”—probably because her husband couldn’t—that Mahrree gorged herself to be nearly sick.

  She was just starting to feel queasy, and saw the same affliction on her daughter’s face but not her son’s, when Perrin appeared at the door. “Mother—I felt him move. I’m sure of it!”

  Joriana dropped her fork, leaped from her chair, and rushed across the Grand Hall to the study. Her son, grandchildren and daughter-in-law followed close behind.

/>   Joriana sat in Perrin’s chair and gestured madly. “Where? What?”

  “His hand, Mother,” Perrin motioned for her to take it. “He squeezed my hand.”

  She turned to him. “You held his hand?”

  Perrin reddened a little. “Well, the best way to sense movement.” He glanced accusingly at his wife.

  Joriana scooped up her husband’s hand and squeezed it. “Relf?”

  He moved a few fingers on her hand in a purposeful manner.

  “Mahrree, get the soup!” she cried.

  By the time Mahrree returned, knowing she had sloshed some broth on the shiny floor in her hurry but that’s what maids were for, Perrin had propped up his limp father and Joriana was holding a mug of water to Relf’s lips, which he appeared to be drinking, although much dribbled down his chin and to a napkin tucked into his white undershirt.

  “His eyes moved!” Peto shouted, startling his grandmother.

  “I saw it too!” Jaytsy said, but quieter.

  Mahrree set down the bowl on the desk as Joriana dabbed fastidiously at Relf’s face with another napkin.

  “You’re going to be all right, Father,” Perrin said, still supporting him.

  “Yes,” they all heard the whisper. “Now.”

  No one took a walk that evening. The family sat clustered around the general spoon-feeding him broth, helping him sip water, noticing parts of him that moved, and waiting to hear him whisper something else. Even the staff sergeant on guard duty for the night put down his book and watched intently for the High General’s progress.

  Twice the surgeon came by to check on him, and late that evening he smiled guardedly.

  “Pulse is stronger, he’s swallowing on his own—Mrs. Shin, Lieutenant Colonel, I think he’s going to make it.”

  “Thank the Creator!” Joriana breathed and sat next to her husband on his bed. She took up his hand again and unexpectedly kissed it.

  Mahrree’s eyes widened. She’d never seen open affection between her in-laws, but she realized that didn’t mean it never happened. She caught her husband’s eye and smiled at him.

  Perrin’s eyes were shiny as he watched his father weakly squeeze his wife’s hand.

  Relf forced his eyes open to briefly gaze at Joriana. When he whispered to her, “Yes, and thank you,” Mahrree thought it was the sweetest thing she’d ever seen an officer do. Relf’s eyes closed in exhaustion, and his hand slipped from hers.

  “I’ll have two assistants come by every hour through the night to get more fluids into him,” the surgeon said quietly. “They’ll let me know if anything changes. I’ll be by again at dawn. In the meantime, all of you get some rest. And congratulations,” he smiled at Joriana. “You married one tough wolf.”

  As the surgeon wrote out instructions, Perrin said, “Mother, get some sleep now that the danger’s passed. I’ll sit with him for the night and help the assistants—”

  “Oh, no you won’t! Now more than ever I need to be—”

  Mahrree gestured to Jaytsy and Peto to follow her out of the study.

  “Where are we going?” Jaytsy asked as the argument continued.

  “To end this. Can’t have anyone hearing the High General’s wife and son debating now, can we?” Mahrree chuckled. “Bad enough the staff sergeant and surgeon are witnessing it.”

  She led them into one of the guest rooms with two beds in it, pulled off the pillow and blanket from one bed, handed them to Jaytsy, and pulled the bedding from the other to give to Peto. Mahrree picked up a small stuffed chair and nodded toward the study. Smiling, the three of them returned to hear Perrin and his mother still arguing over who should spend the night.

  It was quite easy to make up their beds on the chairs since they were both standing, hands on hips, trying to prove who was more exhausted.

  The surgeon, taking the sleeping general’s pulse one more time, nodded in approval as Mahrree and the children laid the blankets on the chairs, placed the pillows, and then gently led Perrin and Joriana to sit each in one of the seats. It wasn’t until they sat that they realized they both could spend the night by Relf’s side.

  “Besides, Perrin,” Mahrree explained, “I don’t feel like sharing that glorious bed tonight, since you had the coach's bench all to yourself.”

  A little later Mahrree slipped into bed and melted into silk sheets. She didn’t even know sheets could be made out of silk, and they were more slippery than she would’ve imagined. She felt like oil trying to make an impression on water. Cozy under the thick woven blankets that she didn’t have to share, she dreamed about living in a big house. All she could remember later was that it was noisy and chaotic, but wonderful.

  Early in the morning Mahrree sat up and immediately thought of her father-in-law. She dressed and tiptoed down the Grand Hall, past the fo-yay and to the first door. Sunlight wasn’t yet peeking through the massive eastern windows, but the coming dawn illuminated her way enough that she didn’t bother with a candle. Two surgeon’s assistants were just leaving, and they nodded a brief greeting to Mahrree.

  “Surgeon will be by in an hour,” one of them whispered. “General continues to slowly improve.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered back, and the men headed toward the kitchen and the middle back door.

  She crept to the study door to find her husband and his mother both sound asleep in their chairs, their pillows cockeyed, and their blankets askew. Mahrree cringed in sympathy about how their backs and necks would feel when they awoke, and made her way to the general’s bed. His eyes were closed but even in the filtered light his color looked a little better.

  Relieved that he was still all right, Mahrree turned to leave.

  “Don’t go,” she heard a whisper.

  She turned back to him. “General?”

  His eyes barely opened. He slowly held up his hand and Mahrree knelt down on the floor next to him, taking his hand.

  “Can I get you something?” She was startled by her desire to hug him. One never hugs a general. Perrin told her that the day she had met General Shin before they married and asked Perrin why he didn’t embrace his father. No one had ever broken that regulation, so she squeezed his hand instead.

  “No. Just good to see you, Mahrree,” he whispered. His eyes closed again and his hand relaxed in hers.

  Mahrree didn’t know what to do next. Perrin and Joriana still slept, and the night guard was reading one of the books from the shelf by candlelight. He looked up at her and she nodded politely to keep reading. Her position wasn’t very comfortable, but she didn’t want to shift and bother the general. So she stayed there, trying to discern if her father-in-law was still awake and wondering why no one had ever told her how to take care of sick people.

  For the next hour or so she remained on the rug, holding her father-in-law’s limp hand, counting the books on the shelf, and studying the painting of High General Pere Shin that hung over the desk. In the portly man’s stern expression Mahrree could see a bit of her husband—his grandson. He seemed overly severe—as a High General should be, she assumed—but even in the painting there was a hint of a twinkle in his eyes.

  Mahrree nodded at him once, silently apologizing for breaking his first rule of the army by entering the forest to find a Guarder so many years ago. In the dim light of the coming morning, she thought he winked back at her.

  The fort surgeon arrived just as the sun was rising. When he noticed the sleeping figures of Joriana and Perrin, and Mahrree keeping vigil next to the bed, he rushed over. “Has he taken a turn for the worse? Why didn’t anyone send for me?”

  “No, no,” Mahrree assured him. “He even spoke recently. I just didn’t . . . feel like getting up.”

  The doctor picked up the general’s other arm to check his pulse and nodded, satisfied.

  “Stronger. Good.” He leaned over to lift the general’s eyelids when Relf opened his eyes suddenly.

  “I can do that myself now, Doctor.” His voice was low and threatening,
but his eyes were soft.

  “Even better,” the surgeon smiled broadly. “Still ornery. Cush called you an old wolf, you know.”

  “And so did you last night. My eyes may be closed, but my ears never are.” The general smiled faintly and squeezed his daughter-in-law’s hand.

  Many movements and motions that week had startled Mahrree, but nothing more so than the gentle pressure applied to her hand by the High General of Idumea. Something was different about Relf Shin.

  “Relf!” Joriana roused herself. Perrin woke up as well, rubbing his eyes and trying to orient himself.

  “Sleeping on the job,” Mahrree shook her head at him. She got to her feet, giving her father-in-law’s hand one last squeeze, so that Joriana could take her place.

  “How are you this morning?” Joriana asked Relf.

  “Better,” he breathed. “Hungry.”

  Joriana burst into a smile. “Just like your grandson! He’s here, remember? And Jaytsy?”

  “I remember,” he whispered. “Finally found a way to get them to Idumea, didn’t we, Dear?”

  ---

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

  “Question,” said Brisack, “When might he come in for a little chat with the Administrators? I saw the report this afternoon that Relf is expected to recover.”

  Mal eyed him. “Are you a bit eager to meet Perrin?”

  The doctor shrugged. “Well, after all these years, one develops an image of what someone should look like, and one gets a little interested to see if the man matches the image.”

  “Uh-huh,” Mal said, unconvinced. “I promise he won’t be volunteering to visit. We’ll have to force it.”

  Brisack blinked in alarm. “What do you mean, force it?”

  Mal sighed loudly. “Nothing so threatening, my good doctor. We’ll have him brought in on some pretext, some . . .” he waved his hand around as if swatting at unseen flies, “recognition or the other. Shin and Cush put him in for a promotion to colonel some time ago. We can approve it now and have him brought in for . . . services to the world, something inane like that. He can’t refuse.”

  Brisack exhaled in relief. “What about her?”

  Mal clasped his hands on his lap. “You just can’t stand it, can you? I’ll bet you’ve been conniving ways to visit the mansion and check on Relf yourself, haven’t you? Just in the hope of running into Mrs. Mahrree Shin?”

  Brisack examined his hands. “Of course not. It’s just that if we’re to begin testing them again, we really should establish a baseline evaluation of both of them. Assess where they are, make suppositions—”

  “Yes, yes,” Mal interrupted in a bored tone. “Point made. You’ll get to see her. We can make up some reason. I just received a report from Edge about the clean-up efforts. Something was mentioned about her in there that we could use. Gadiman’s already been poring over it, salivating for something new and juicy.”

  Brisack twitched. “You’re letting him in on this again? I thought we agreed that—”

  Mal rolled his eyes. “I’m just letting the Administrator of Loyalty do what he does best: ferret around for potential threats.”

  “He can weasel out a confession from an innocent rector,” Brisack murmured.

  “We need something to start with again,” Mal reminded him. “Gadiman’s just helping me find that soft spot we can stab.”

  Brisack rubbed his chin. “Speculation: Gadiman won’t find a soft spot.”

  “Oh ho,” Mal sneered. “Shin doesn’t have any weaknesses? How impervious to Nature do you think he’s become over the years, my good doctor?”

  He shook his head. “My speculation wasn’t about Shin; it was about Gadiman,” he said coldly. “The weasel will sniff out nothing useful.”

  “He already has a rather thick file on her that says he will.”

  Brisack swallowed.

  Mal chuckled.

  ---

  Mahrree looked at the scene she was spying on and sighed in contentment. The High General improved seemingly every hour, and insisted that by tomorrow he’d be ready to try his crutch and walk about the house a bit.

  But that wasn’t what was so astounding; Relf was sitting up in his bed talking earnestly to—and Mahrree still couldn’t believe it—his granddaughter. Jaytsy was on her two-hour shift, sitting with the general and handing him drinks and soft foods as the family had been doing for the past two days. Mahrree couldn’t remember a time when the two of them had exchanged more than a few predictable pleasantries before Jaytsy sneaked off or Relf cleared his throat and began a conversation with his son.

  But right now it was just the two of them, and Jaytsy sat on the edge of his bed listening intently to his story. A few times her eyebrows went up in surprise, and Relf smiled at her responses which inspired him to tell her even more. Mahrree had never seen his face so animated, nor his eyes so warm. Jaytsy’s time was up, but Mahrree wasn’t about to interrupt them for anything in the world.

  Everything about the past two days had been remarkable, she considered. They’d remained cloistered in the mansion hovering around the High General. That first full day no one wanted to leave his side, but brought in more chairs to keep close and watch for improvement. Mahrree convinced Joriana to take the children on walks a couple of times, but she always returned quickly just to check on her husband.

  The day after that was Holy Day, but no one left the house to attend the congregational meeting—even though Joriana said the extra Shins’ attendance would have doubled the usual crowd. Perrin sat next to Relf the longest, repeating all the details of the land tremor and recovery efforts he told him when he was unconscious, and relaying updates from General Cush.

  Relf even chuckled last evening, gripping his sides in pain. When Mahrree asked Perrin later outside the door what made his father laugh, he said, “I told him about a misunderstanding Shem and I had right before we left to come here.”

  “What kind of misunderstanding?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Perrin assured her. “Because, as my father pointed out, officer’s wives always trade up.”

  “What in the world are you talking about?”

  He just grinned, and Mahrree heard Relf chuckle again—then groan in pain—in his study.

  This morning, the 37th Day of Planting, General Shin sat himself up, ignored his broken ribs, and demanded bacon for breakfast, much to his wife’s delight. He even called for a formal briefing from Cush and his advisors. They’d left after less than an hour, worried about tiring the general out.

  Jaytsy went in to sit with her grandfather while Perrin handled some of his father’s paperwork in another smaller office, and Joriana discussed some matters with her staff. Peto wandered around the large gardens looking for something round to kick, and Mahrree spied on her father-in-law from the crack in the door.

  She grinned as the conversation in the study came to a finish, with Relf beaming at his granddaughter who giggled at something he said.

  Without turning his head he said, “Mahrree? I know you’re out there, and have been for some time. You can’t sneak up on an old soldier.”

  Mahrree blushed and opened the door wider. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

  Relf looked over at her and nodded once. “Get Joriana for me, would you? And Perrin and Peto? I have something to say to everyone.”

  “Of course,” Mahrree said, a little startled at his earnestness.

  Jaytsy just shrugged at her mother.

  A few moments later his family surrounded him again, a little worried as to what he had to say. Everyone had noticed his new gentler yet earnest demeanor, but none of them knew quite what to make of it.

  “Joriana, I’ve decided that it’s not seemly for me to be surrounded by so many females for so long,” he announced solemnly, but with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “It’s time for you to go shopping. And take these women with you, too.” He winked at his bouncing granddaughter.

  Mahrree
chuckled, but Perrin shook his head at the suggestion. “Nothing here they’d care to see here, Mother. Sorry.”

  “Oh!” Jaytsy wailed dramatically. “I’ve been patient for days! See, Grandfather? I told you he’d be unreasonable. Please, Father, we do want to see the shops. Right, Mother?”

  Perrin scoffed loudly.

  Mahrree bit her lower lip. “Actually, Perrin, umm, I would like to see what all the fuss is about. I mean, I’ve heard so much, I think I should probably see for myself . . .” She trailed off when she saw the expression on his face.

  “What, seriously?” he said, as if utterly betrayed by all he loved. “Mahrree, since when are you interested in—” He turned to his mother. “Where would you take them?”

  Joriana beamed and clapped her hands. “Relf, are you sure? We can take midday meal in the city! First, we’ll go to some dress shops, because someone has a birthday coming up, and fifteen is such an important age!” she squealed. “Then maybe we’ll try on hats, then if there’s any time left, shoes!”

  Horror stricken, Perrin turned to his wife. “Really? All afternoon?”

  Mahrree had begun to feel a bit concerned herself, especially when Joriana mentioned hats, which she never wore, but she knew her mother-in-law had a fondness for, as well as a full closet of. “Oh, I can’t imagine it’d take all afternoon—”

  “It can. Trust me,” the general groaned. “So you best get started. Peto will keep me company for a while, right?”

  Peto’s eyes grew big, but he eeked out a “Right.” He hadn’t yet spent time sitting by his grandfather’s sick bed, because no one had asked him, nor had he volunteered.

  His eyes darted nervously over to his mother, but the general’s comment drew his attention back to him. “Just for an hour or so, Peto. Then I’ll need to nap while your father takes you to see the new kickball arena.”

  Peto grinned. “I’ve been hoping to see that!”

  Perrin shrugged in reluctant agreement. “Could be worth a look. Just to see what the fuss is all about.” He sent one last scathing look at Mahrree.

  She really didn’t know what to do with it.

  Not that she wanted to go shopping; she never enjoyed having to wade through what others considered desirable, choose one, then hand over hard-earned slips of silver for it. She never saw the appeal of the process, especially when she spent an hour and didn’t find anything she really liked or that was worth her metal.

  But she had been intrigued, she was loath to admit, about Idumea for years. Anything that so riled her husband must be analyzed more closely. Just to understand. That was all.

  She shrugged apologetically at him.

  He just shook his head.

  “So we’re off!” Joriana chirruped like a woman fifty years younger and clapped her hands again. She turned to Mahrree and Jaytsy. “We’re going to have so much fun! Let’s make you presentable.”

  Even Mahrree couldn’t help but let escape a giggle as the three women rushed out of the study to their bedrooms. But she stopped suddenly at the study door, looked back at her husband with another apologetic expression, shrugged helplessly, and rushed off.

  Perrin turned slowly to his father. “You know how I told you yesterday that I briefly worried that a certain enlisted soldier was moving in on my wife? I think I just lost her anyway, General. I have no idea who that woman is with my mother.”

  “I guess this is another reason why you hate Idumea?” Peto asked.

  Perrin pointed to his son. “Yes, exactly!” Turning back to his father he said, “Cush told me again this morning that he wanted me to meet his grandson. I could head over to the university now, but only if you’re doing all right. Do you mind if I go for an hour? You’ve got Peto, after all.”

  “I was hoping for a way to get rid of you. See you in an hour.” Feebly he saluted his son, and Perrin returned it with a grin. He winked at his nervous son and headed toward a back door.

  Peto gulped now that he was nearly alone with the general.

  “Riplak,” the general said to the lieutenant sitting in the corner drearily thumbing through a book, “I won’t be needing you for a while. You maybe be excused.”

  “But sir, I have strict orders to stay—”

  “Lieutenant,” the general said more forcefully, “I still override any command you may have been given by Colonel Thorne. There’ll be no classified information shared between a grandfather and his grandson that the garrison needs to monitor.”

  Riplak looked down uncomfortably. “Of course not, sir. My apologies.”

  “Son,” said General Shin more easily, “go to the kitchen and find something to eat. For drawing the dullest assignment in all of Idumea, you should have some kind of reward. I’m sure Kindiri could use the company.”

  The lieutenant’s face brightened. “Thank you, sir! I’ll make sure she’s cooking your midday meal properly.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you will.”

  As he left, the general gestured to his grandson to come closer. “He won’t be back for a while. He’s got a thing for our cook.”

  Peto frowned. “A thing?”

  Relf studied him. “You’re not quite fourteen yet, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “So . . . if you happen to see those two alone, just don’t listen to anything they say, all right? Especially if they start talking about cucumber sandwiches.”

  Peto scowled. “Why would they talk about that? Cucumbers aren’t even in season—”

  “Yes, yes, yes,” Relf said hurriedly and rubbed his forehead. “I know. When you’re seventeen you’ll likely understand better.”

  Peto stared at him, completely lost.

  “Now,” his grandfather leaned over to him conspiratorially, “I smelled Kindiri baking my favorite sweet rolls earlier. Your grandmother thinks I can’t handle them yet, so she’ll have hidden them in the second pantry, near the bottom shelf. That’s where she always hides things she doesn’t want me to eat. Go get us a few, and then you and I will have a little talk.”

  Peto swallowed again. One of these times, his tongue was sure to go down too.

  Chapter 8 ~ “Peto, have you ever had . . . a dream?”