Harvest Festival was uncomfortable that year.
Even though six weeks had passed since the riot that divided the village, Mahrree noticed that the market which was normally crammed with happy people preparing for the feast was now uncommonly quiet. People still shopped, but they snatched up items and headed away before accidentally bumping into someone they now hated. While the usual games and events were planned, they were sparsely attended since no one wanted to risk coming face to face with an enemy.
Some people were still upset with Magistrate Wibble and Chief Barnie, a few with Trum, and even a couple with Colonel Shin. There was enough antagonism to throw around liberally, with no one taking blame for their own behaviors.
The Strongest Soldier Race was run without any notice to the village, so only soldiers and the Shins witnessed it. Even though Perrin lost to Shem by a couple of seconds, it was still his victory because he took an unscheduled detour through Trum’s new cattle pen.
Trum had his laborers had hastily put it together, connecting two properties that he now claimed and spanning a road that had been there for a hundred years. Mahrree had never seen Lieutenant Offra laugh before, but he did so almost uncontrollably as he told her about Colonel Shin leaping over the fence which terrified three hundred head of cattle. Within moments the stampede began, easily tearing through the makeshift pen. Mahrree had been waiting along the route to cheer on her husband, but she had to first see the mess he created. She arrived at the empty fields to watch a cloud of dust making its way to Moorland. Trum shouted and wailed and begged his neighbors and workers to round up his cattle running west, but no one was too eager to help. Many of his neighbors had been hoping to claim those animals and lands themselves, and when his laborers heard they weren’t going to be paid extra, they dawdled in saddling up their horses.
The glare Trum shot at Mahrree only made her grin, and she and Offra laughed all the way back to the village green to see the end of the race. Even Shem had to admit that had Perrin not taken that quarter mile detour off of Brillen’s route he would have easily won.
However, Perrin feigned surprise to hear that he had strayed from the route Karna had set, and blinked in believable innocence when Chief Barnie told him Trum wanted to press charges.
“But all I did was run along a road that’s been there longer than I have. How about this: tell Trum I’ll personally go round up his cattle.”
Trum didn’t take him up on the offer, nor was there any law in the books that he could throw at Perrin about running on roads.
Trum never did recover all of his lost cattle, but Perrin told Mahrree he’d noticed some of the herds west of Edge seemingly a bit fuller than they had been. Apparently there was no deadline on appropriating the goods of the dead.
When the Raining Season rolled around that year, Mahrree hoped that the cold would bring down the heated lingering resentment in Edge. Some tensions were beginning to ease. Some people even smiled back at her at the market. But most Edgers were keeping to their homes now that the snows had come. In what condition they would emerge in the new year was a mystery, like planting an unfamiliar seed and hoping that whatever blooms later was worth the space and water given it.
But a knock at the front door on the afternoon of the 43rd Day of Raining Season reminded Mahrree there were no more predictable seasons. There stood an official messenger from Idumea. That the messenger came to the house, and not the fort, gave Mahrree a hint of what it was about.
She opened and read the message.
Then she said, “Hmmm.”
She put on her thick cloak and walked in the falling snow to the fort, into the reception area of the command tower, and up the stairs.
Shem, consulting the map on the wall, looked at her in surprise.
She raised her eyebrows briefly.
He gave her a complicated look back.
She held her hands up in surrender. “That’s all I know, Shem. Don’t confuse me. Is he in?”
Shem grinned. “Yes.” He knocked on the wall behind him in a pattern that apparently signaled, Your wife’s here.
“Really? Send her in,” Perrin called.
When Mahrree walked in he raised his eyebrows at her in concern. She gave him a unconvincing smile and held up the message.
“How’s it phrased?” he asked.
She opened it up. “‘Colonel Shin, Mrs. Shin, Miss Jaytsy, and Mr. Peto are expected to join the Cush family blah, blah, blah . . . for The Dinner. The Cush family would be most pleased if the Shin family agrees to reside at the High General’s mansion during their visit.’ And Mrs. Cush added, ‘We will accept no less than a two week stay. And bring that sweet, handsome Uncle Shem of yours.’”
“Hmm,” was all Perrin said.
“That was my response too. They’ve given us a full three moons’ warning. I mean, preparation time.”
A voice from the outer office called, “I’m not going.”
“If I’m going, you’re going, Zenos,” Perrin yelled back. “Even though it’ll have been almost two years, I don’t think they’ll let me back in Idumea without my escort.”
The door swung open and there stood Shem with a mischievous smile. “We could really have some fun there, you know.”
“I’m done having fun, Shem.”
“Good. So am I,” and he slammed the door.
“We don’t have to send a response for some time,” Perrin said quietly to his wife. “We can ignore it for a while, can’t we?”
---
Knock-knock . . . knock-knock-knock.
Perrin had heard that knock so many times each week he thought at some point it would stop causing him to cringe. Or at least stop the twitching near his eye.
But no.
Some part of his body always involuntarily spasmed when that third knock hit the door, followed by the last two signaling the arrival of the biggest pain in his . . . life. Aside from the occasional moments when Thorne’s true personality burst out to confront Perrin, he was usually a compliant, eager-to-please officer.
Which made Perrin want to kick him.
“Come in.” Sometimes it was so hard to get those words out.
The door opened and there he stood with what he likely thought was his most handsome grin, but he used it on the wrong person.
“Sir, I noticed Mrs. Shin was here this afternoon?”
“Yes . . .”
“She was holding an official parchment?”
“Tell me, Thorne—do you enjoy noticing everything?”
His jaw worked up and down for a moment. “Why, yes . . . isn’t that my job?”
“I don’t know,” Perrin said coldly. “Is it?”
Thorne glanced around the office, searching for an answer. Finally his eyes rested again on Perrin, and he pointed at him in the same manner the cheese hagglers do when they’re convinced they’re being had.
“Ha-ha,” the captain produced a grin. “It is, isn’t it? As second in command—”
Now Perrin glanced around the office. “Thorne, just who are you trying to remind of that fact? Is there anyone in this room who doesn’t know that?”
Thorne pulled his finger back. “Uh, no sir? I just, just—”
“You came in here for a reason, Captain?”
His tense smile returned. “Yes. Yes! I’m assuming Mrs. Shin was here because she received the invitation?”
Perrin’s shoulders went rigid. “Invitation.”
“To The Dinner, of course!” Thorne grinned so dazzlingly that Perrin clenched his fist under the desk. More of those teeth begged—begged—to be knocked out.
“Ample warning,” was all Perrin replied.
“So . . . can I tell my grandmother to expect you? You can choose the rooms you wish to occupy while you’re there.”
Perrin reclenched his fist. “Mrs. Shin will send our family’s response when a decision has been made, Captain. You need not worry yourself about women’s duties.”
Thorne blinked. “But if I can rende
r any service, sir—”
It was the insincerity. Perrin stared deep into the captain’s blue eyes, but Thorne had built an impenetrable wall there which blocked a variety of truths which Perrin would likely find most repulsive. Some men had a little to hide. This boy hid his entire world.
“If there’s nothing else, Captain, I’m about to go out on rounds.” It was a bit early yet, but no sense in procrastinating.
Thorne stepped reluctantly away from the door. He must have had something more to say. “Uh, no sir—”
Perrin pushed past him and jogged down the stairs.
Thorne sighed and stared longingly at the colonel’s desk.
---
Jaytsy headed home from the market one afternoon, her breath forming fog and her basket heavy with the last of the year’s apples and some still-warm sweet breads. The heat coming up through the cloth protecting them was deliciously warm on her gloved hands.
“On such a cold day, would you accept someone walking you home?”
She shivered when she heard the voice next to her ear, but it wasn’t because of cold.
“Of course, Captain Thorne.” A part of her was startled that he still existed. She hadn’t even thought of him for many moons. But that was partly because everything about him was all wrong. His eyes reminded her of ice, his blonde hair the bales of hay in that barn. And always there was that odd scent of lavender.
“Thank you,” she said curtly as she took his arm. She felt him flex his muscles in his sleeve and she wished she had a pin to poke them with.
“Did you hear about the invitation?” he said amiably.
“To your grandparents’ dinner? Yes, it came about a week ago.”
“I’m looking forward to it. My family is too. I think they’re hoping for another show to be put on by your father,” Thorne chuckled stiffly. “I wonder what he’ll come up with this year! Last year was, well, a little dull by comparison to that baby incident. He really seems to enjoy babies—”
“Oh, Captain—” Jaytsy cut him off before he could suggest anything else about babies.
“Lemuel,” he reminded her.
She suppressed a groan. “Lemuel, we haven’t decided if we’re going.”
“Oh, but you have to come!”
“Lemuel, it’s just that . . . I don’t think . . .” She faltered until she came up with, “My father still has some memories of Idumea that I’m not sure he’ll ever get over. He’s come so far this past year, and we’d hate for anything to happen to him. It’d be terrible for him to go to that mansion now and, well, you can imagine. It certainly wouldn’t be dull, I could promise that!”
Lemuel worked that over for a second before declaring it, “Funny,” faster than he ever had before. “Jayts—”
She winced at his shortening her name like that. Only her family, Uncle Shem, and now Deckett—or rather, Deck—called her that.
“—can I share something with you? I really want your father to go. My grandfather’s health has been failing, and my father is . . .” Thorne sighed and sounded genuinely concerned. “I’m not so sure that my father is up to replacing him.”
Jaytsy watched him from the corner of her eye and noticed his jaw moving, looking for the right words.
“He can be difficult,” Lemuel finally said. “I believe Colonel Shin would be a far better High General. He needs to be there at The Dinner so that everyone can see him as we see him now. He’s just the right . . . ” He shook his head, unsure of how to phrase it.
Jaytsy let out a breath that hung in the cold air while her insides squirmed. “I really don’t know, Lemuel—”
He stopped walking. Taking Jaytsy’s hand, the captain looked around and found a wide tree off the side of the road. He pulled her over to the meager shelter of it, out of the traffic of the dozen or so people on their way to the market.
Gripping her arms, he looked fervently into her eyes. “Miss Jaytsy—Jayts—then you come with me! Please, to Idumea.”
Jaytsy’s mouth dropped open. “Just . . . just . . .”
“Yes, just you and me! We could take the fort coach and talk all the way there. We’ll stay with my grandparents at the mansion, tour Idumea, and see the plays. I heard the one about your father is quite good. They keep extending its run, and they’d give us the best seats in the theater, I’m sure. There’s so much you didn’t get to see two years ago. Let me show it all to you! My mother could take you shopping. I know that’s what girls love to do,” he said as if he’d uncovered some mystical secret. “You could buy the newest dresses, shoes, hats . . . anything you want. It’s all yours!”
Jaytsy couldn’t speak. She could only stare at him as he beamed at her and his brilliant idea.
He had no idea what girls loved. At least not this girl. He had a narrow view of women and applied it lazily to her. Nearly two years ago she’d enjoyed shopping with her grandmother, but since then the world had changed around her. Even Edge had shifted, and pushed her in new directions as well. She didn’t even care that she wore her grandmother’s flowered dresses after Harvest Season.
And no men she cared about were interested in fashion or the theater. It was all fake and contrived, and unappealing.
But she knew what she did love, and it was glorious to no longer worry about the world’s opinions. She loved real things. Dirt on her hands and under her fingernails. Flicking insects off the corn. Filling wagons with potatoes. Braiding the greens of onions together. Measuring milk yields. Churning butter. Sampling cheeses. Looking into cows’ eyes.
Cow eyes.
Lemuel shook her a little by the arms. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she finally muttered.
“Yes, you’ll come with me?”
“No!” she nearly shouted. “I meant, yes, I’m all right. But Lemuel . . . I need to talk to my parents about this.” That was a safe excuse to buy her time.
“Of course. Naturally.” Lemuel lost a bit of his earnestness. “Maybe you can convince them they should all come. Please try, Jaytsy. Promise me? And consider us? Much could happen on a trip like this.” He licked his lips hungrily.
That was exactly what she worried about. Much could happen alone with him in a carriage for days. She felt the urge to kick him for his presumption. Of course he wanted her alone in a carriage for days. No room for her to fight and run, no Shem to threaten him . . .
“I will speak to my parents, Captain Thorne,” she said firmly. “That’s all I can promise right now. I need to go home. My mother’s expecting me.”
“Of course.” He smiled and began to lean toward her.
Jaytsy wasn’t about to be nauseated again by an unwanted kiss. She dodged out of the way, and in two quick steps she was back on the side of the road heading home at her fastest walk.
Thorne jogged to catch up to her and let escape an awkward chuckle. Without a word she took his arm again out of politeness, although she wasn’t sure why—it wasn’t as if he had been insinuating anything polite—and he patted her hand. It was the longest three blocks she’d ever walked.
When she dropped the basket of food in the kitchen a few minutes later, she told her mother, “We have a problem. Lemuel Thorne walked me home. He wants me to go to Idumea.”
Mahrree shook her head as she put another dish in the wash basin. “Now they’ve got him pressuring us, and they barely sent the invitation—”
“Mother, you don’t understand. He wants me to go to Idumea. With him. Alone.”
Jaytsy had never seen a mother bear before. But she’d heard stories about what they look like when someone steps between them and their cubs. Mahrree Shin must have worn the exact same look.
“WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS?” she bellowed.
Jaytsy put a finger in her ear and wiggled it dramatically. “A little louder, Mother, and he can probably hear you. He’s on his way to the fort now—”
Mahrree threw down her washing cloth and started for the door.
Jaytsy leaped in front of her
. “No! Mother! Stay! Stop!”
Mahrree stopped reluctantly and put her hands on her hips. “How dare he assume he can take my daughter, alone, to Idumea!”
Jaytsy took her mother’s shoulders and gently steered her back into the kitchen. “So I’m guessing the answer is no? I was really hoping you’d say yes—”
Mahrree’s mouth fell open.
Jaytsy shook her head. “I’m joking, only joking!”
“You have just as bad timing as your father!” Mahrree sat down resolutely on a chair, but she eyed the door with some level of planning in her furious eyes. “What did you say to him?”
Jaytsy moved to block her mother’s view of the door and to keep her from rushing up to the fort with the butcher knife lying on the work table. “He wants us to go because he thinks Father needs to make a good impression. Sounds like he’s not too fond of his own father and doesn’t have much confidence in him as a future High General. But if you don’t want to go, he said he’ll just take me. I told him I’d talk to you. So I’m talking.”
“And I’m NOT agreeing!” Mahrree was nearly purple.
“I knew you wouldn’t.” She sat next to Mahrree and put a heavy hand on her leg to keep her in the chair. Jaytsy thought briefly what her mother’s reaction would have been had she known what Thorne tried to do to her nine moons ago in the barn. She pictured bits of Lemuel Thorne scattered over several square miles of Idumea.
“Jaytsy, I thought he had forgotten about you since The Dinner two years ago. He hasn’t tried courting you or anything. But I guess he was just waiting.” Mahrree paused before asking, “It’s really none of my business but . . . well, yes it is! You are my daughter after all—do you have any feelings for him?”
Jaytsy laughed softly. “Only the worst, Mother.”
Mahrree sighed. “That’s what I thought, but I figured I better ask.” She paused again, some of her fury draining away. “So, speaking of young men, when does Deck come back from Mountseen?”
“Any day now, I suppose. He didn’t think his aunt and uncle would want him to stay away from his cows too long, but he was hoping to fix up their house a bit. They had problems with their windows leaking, and he wanted to spend some time with his cousin Atlee. They used to be as close as brothers in Moorland.”
“He’s such a good boy. Man. Umm—”
Jaytsy leaned against her mother. “I’ll agree with that.”
---
That evening Perrin sent Mahrree a message with a corporal that he wouldn’t be home for dinner, and it wasn’t until nearly bed time that he came through the door.
Mahrree was waiting for him on the sofa—Jaytsy and Peto already in their rooms for the night—antsy to tell him about Jaytsy’s run-in with Lemuel Thorne.
“Everything all right at the fort?”
“What? Oh, yes. Well, I wasn’t at the fort, really, for much of the time,” he said distractedly as he came into the gathering room, his face suspiciously cheerful.
“So where were you?”
“Doesn’t matter,” he brushed it off. “You look concerned.”
“I am. Perrin, we have a problem. Thorne wants to take Jaytsy to Idumea for The Dinner, even if we don’t go! Alone!”
For the past several hours she had been anticipating his response. When Colonel Perrin Shin was enraged—at others, not at his family or during a nightmare—it was a powerfully terrifying thing, and also a bit thrilling, she had to admit.
She’d pictured him roaring, marching to the eating table, retrieving the long knife he stashed in the secret drawer—the sword would be too obvious, he’d decide—and charging up to the fort.
She would have to stop him at that point, since there really wasn’t any basis for killing Captain Thorne just because he had inappropriate plans.
But once again all of her imagining and speculating as to how Perrin would react to someone wanting to take his daughter was all for naught.
He just smiled at his wife. “I don’t think we have a problem.”
That was it.
Not even a “He wants to do what?!” to begin his tirade, which didn’t occur. He just blinked several times and grinned.
“How can you say that?” she wailed. Just when she wanted him to lose his temper, he wouldn’t!
He looked around to make sure the bedroom doors were closed, and turned back to his wife, his eyes nearly on fire with excitement. “Time for you to learn some more of my and Shem’s signals.”
---
Jaytsy woke up extra early the next morning, the 51st Day of Raining Season. The sun wouldn’t be up for a while, but her father had knocked on her door late last night as he was going to bed. He told her that he noticed Deckett had come back, so he had stopped to check on him. Since it was so late, Deck didn’t want to come by the house and bother Jaytsy, but she would have stayed up all night to see him, had he asked. He wanted her to drop by to see him on her way to school, if she had the time.
She’d laughed at that. She’d give him all her time. Her final year of school wasn’t important anyway. She’d already passed the Final Administrative Competency Test last year with the highest marks, and just went for something to do since she wasn’t old enough for any women’s college.
When Jaytsy went to the washroom she was surprised to see her parents already up, and both wearing slightly unnatural smiles.
“Why are you up so early?”
They shrugged in unison.
“Felt like getting up early,” Mahrree said. “Needed to catch up on some grading.”
“Me too,” her father added lamely.
Her mother gave him a look that Jaytsy couldn’t define. It must have been one of Shem and Father’s silly codes. Jaytsy couldn’t understand why she encouraged their behavior by learning their game. Most of the time they looked like they were trying to wriggle itches off their faces.
When she came out of the washroom a few minutes later, her father snatched some of her mother’s papers and began reading them. Jaytsy just shook her head on her way to her bedroom and came back out in her thickest woolen dress and warm cloak.
“Going somewhere this early?” her mother asked, her voice a little high.
“Yes, remember? I was going to check on . . . Deck’s oldest cow. She seemed a little down lately. I think she misses him.”
Mahrree’s smile twisted. “Yes, yes. Deckett is most likely still asleep since he got in so late, so she doesn’t know he’s back. You go talk to that cow. Cheer her up.”
Perrin coughed into his mug and Mahrree slapped him on the back.
A loud knock at the back door surprised Jaytsy.
But Perrin stood up automatically, almost as if he was expecting it, and headed for the kitchen.
“Why, Deckett Briter! What a surprise. Yes, of course Jaytsy’s up. I think she was on her way to see your old cow.”
Jaytsy ran to the kitchen door and clenched her fists to keep from throwing her arms around Deck in front of her father. Five days had felt like five years.
Deck beamed at her. “Care to take a walk?”
The thought of taking a walk in the freezing cold of the dark early morning didn’t strike her as an unusual request at all. “Of course!” She gave her father a quick goodbye kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be back before school, Mother.”
“Give my regards to the cow,” she called back.
---
Mahrree heard the door close and Perrin came back to the table. He sat down across from his wife with a spark in his eyes, and leaned in.
She leaned toward him as well, expecting one of his morning ‘greetings.’
She was not, however, expecting what he said next, in his low, dreamy voice, just as she began to pucker.
“So, how long do you think it’ll be until I get to start calling you grandmother?”
---
Jaytsy came home an hour later marching through the back door while holding firmly on to Deck’s hand—the rest of him following hap
pily—and stopped at the table in the eating room where her parents still sat.
Peto looked up from his breakfast and groggily stared at them.
Beaming, Jaytsy shook Deck’s hand, as if some kind of signal.
Deckett cleared his throat. “Colonel Shin, Mrs. Shin? Jaytsy would like to tell you something,” and he smiled at Perrin.
Jaytsy gave Deckett the briefest of looks—apparently that wasn’t what they had rehearsed—before turning to her parents.
Their odd smiles from earlier were magnified on their faces. Mahrree squirmed with anticipation until she bounced in her chair.
Jaytsy’s mouth dropped open. “You already know! How could you already know? I just found out myself!”
“Know what?” Peto asked.
Deck glared, actually glared, at his future father-in-law. “Colonel Shin, you said last night you wouldn’t say a word.”
Perrin held up his hands. “I swear, I didn’t say a word.”
“Jaytsy, just say it!” Mahrree nearly screamed, her hands squeezing her cheeks in anticipation.
“We want to get married!” Jaytsy yelled.
“What!” Peto hollered. “Why?”
Mahrree was already on her feet rushing over to them. She couldn’t wait to hug her future son-in-law, who looked stunned as he put his arms around her and sent Perrin a look that said, Help?
Perrin laughed and went to hug his daughter instead.
But Peto just sat there, rubbing his eyes.
“That is, Father, if it’s all right with you and Mother?” Jaytsy remembered to say as she pulled out of his hug. “I mean, I’m not yet seventeen—”
Perrin kissed her on the cheek. “I told Deckett last night when we discussed this that I thought it’s an excellent idea. I’m sure your mother is happy as well.”
Mahrree finally released Deck. “Absolutely!”
“I told you they’d be all right with it,” Deck said shyly to Jaytsy.
She gave him a quick kiss on the lips and they both blushed.
That was too much for Peto. “Ah, no, NO! Come on! Deck, we were having fun. Even with her around. Why go and ruin it? I’m going back to bed,” and he started for his bedroom.
Deck chuckled. “I’m not ruining anything, Peto. How can becoming your brother ruin things?”
Peto stopped and sighed loudly. “Can you be my brother without kissing her in front of me?”
“I kind of like it. Sorry.”
Peto exhaled in resignation and held out his hand to Deck. “Whatever. Welcome to the family.”
Deck shook his hand and pulled him in for a hug.
“Don’t kiss me!” Peto yelled.
“Don’t worry!” Deck yelled back.
“Well at least someone’s surprised,” Jaytsy said, a little glumly, as her parents laughed.
Mahrree elbowed Perrin—he had spilled all the beans last night without saying a word—and he sent an apologetic glance to Jaytsy.
She brightened. “Uncle Shem! He doesn’t know! Right?” she glared at her father.
He shook his head.
“Deck, let’s go find him!”
“No, Jayts,” Perrin told her. “He’s been out all night training new recruits. Let him sleep. But I have an idea,” he smiled slyly. “We’ll invite him over for dinner so you can surprise him.”
“If you can keep it a secret, Colonel,” Deck teased.
Perrin pointed at him. “We have to stop that ‘colonel’ nonsense right now, Mr. Briter. My wife called my father General for as long as she knew him.”
“Almost as long,” Mahrree said.
Perrin gave her a questioning look, but she waved him off. “Anyway,” he continued, “I never cared for that. I’m not your colonel. Nor,” he said gently, “could I ever replace your father. I told you this before, but now I mean it: you’ll have to call me Perrin.”
Deckett cringed. “That may take me a while, sir. But I’ll try.”
“And no ‘sir’. And I’ll try to not to say anything to Shem.”
Mahrree had been bouncing in place for several minutes. “Do you have a date picked?”
Deck and Jaytsy looked at each other. “Day after my birthday, when I’m officially independent and seventeen,” Jaytsy said. “The 47th Day of Planting Season, 337.”
Mahrree sighed in relief. “Do you know what day that is?” she murmured loudly to Perrin.
“I do,” said Deckett, with uncharacteristic hotness. “And that captain can dance alone that night!”
“Deckett, Jaytsy,” Perrin said fighting down a mischievous grin as he thought about Lemuel Thorne looking vainly for Jaytsy at The Dinner when she was at her wedding instead, “perhaps we keep this news just to the family. Considering Thorne and everything—”
“We already talked about that too,” Jaytsy said. “We thought about getting married in Mountseen. Deck’s old rector moved there, and his aunt and uncle and cousin are there. And since you’re allowed to travel again, Father . . .”
“We could use the fort for the dinner,” Mahrree suggested. “I already know how to organize it! It’ll be nice organizing a dinner for uniforms again.” She didn’t add, Instead of feeding Edge.
Perrin grinned at her. “And why do I have the feeling there may be more uniforms in Mountseen than in Idumea that night?”
---
Knock-knock . . . knock-knock-knock.
Perrin really shouldn’t sigh so loudly, he knew. Someone might hear him.
Then again, maybe someone would and get the hint.
“Come in.”
The door opened and there was the toothy grin. “Sir, I just wanted to make sure that midday meal was satisfactory to you.”
Perrin sat back. “Midday meal, Thorne?”
“Yes, sir,” the captain stepped in. “I know you usually bring something from home. Mrs. Shin must be an excellent cook—”
Perrin’s chest began to puff up with another exasperated sigh.
“—but I noticed that today you ate in the mess hall.”
“I did.”
“With Lieutenant Offra and some other soldiers, sir?”
“Yes.” He slowly let out the breath or he would have exploded.
“So . . .” Thorne was hedging to know what they were talking about, but Perrin wasn’t about to bore him with his conversation with the young men about how to build their stamina. “You see,” Thorne continued when Perrin was silent, “we recently acquired a new supplier of beef—not Trum—and knowing how much you enjoy steak, I was hoping you found the beef to your satisfaction.”
“I had the leftover chicken stew.”
“Of course you would,” Thorne simpered. “Leaving the fresher meal to the men—”
“I like the chicken stew, Thorne, now without mushrooms.”
“Good, good! An army is only as happy as its stomach!”
“Came up with that all on your own, did you, Captain?”
Thorne swallowed. “Uh, yes sir? About the chicken . . . we’ve used the same chicken supplier for several years now, and—”
Perrin leaned forward and took up his quill again to suggest, I’m ready to get back to work, aren’t you? “The chicken supplier is fine. And the men seem to be enjoying the beef. If there’s nothing else?”
Thorne shook his head. “Just making sure you’re completely satisfied, sir. That’s why I’m here.”
He shut the door behind him and Perrin exhaled.
“Of course that’s why you’re here. At least I’m satisfied you’re not about to become my son-in-law.”
And for the first time after a Thorney visit, Perrin chuckled.
Last night poor Deckett Briter had been more nervous than any man should have to be. He’d asked Perrin to sit down at the kitchen table, then paced around it. Because his hands didn’t know what to do without a hoe or an udder in them, they were everywhere gesturing stiffly, hiding themselves in Deckett’s pockets, and fumbling with his buttons.
“Sir, I
need to speak to you about something very important. Rather, an important situation, I suppose . . .”
It always took him a few minutes to relax around Perrin. Until then Deckett treated his sentences like an indecisive farmer, cutting off bits here, pulling out something then burying it away again, and throwing weedy words everywhere.
Perrin settled in for the show.
“You see, sir . . . colonel, sir,” he said, even though Perrin reminded him yet again to call him by his first name, “I spoke to my uncle about this . . . Your daughter is an amazing young woman, who I respect greatly, and I believe we’ve formed a bit of a . . . I realize that I’m not exactly what you would have imagined for your daughter—”
Perrin had smiled at that. “You’re absolutely right.” But he stopped when he saw Deckett growing paler.
“Yes, sir. And I know I’m not as smart as she is . . . Did she tell you I had to take the Final Administrators’ exam twice to get into the university at Mountseen?”
“Deckett, you know how I feel about those exams. They don’t measure a person’s true worth—”
But Deckett had a speech prepared, and for a man not normally of many words, he had a lot he wanted to get out.
“I never could have got in to the University of Idumea like you. I’m not much of a speaker or talker or whatever, like you or Mrs. Shin.”
Or your father, thank the Creator, Perrin thought briefly.
“So I never could have been a debator, even if it was still allowed. And I’m not as clever with politics and, and, and stuff like that, or know as many people like you do, because when I listen to all of you talk at dinner, sometimes I get a bit lost. And I’ve heard that girls tend to prefer someone like their fathers, but I’m not as brave as you, because I’m not aggressive at all. I can’t even butcher the animals I raise, and honestly, sir, sometimes the chickens intimidate me—”
“Deck,” Perrin tried to interrupt, but the young man was as unstoppable as a stampede, so Perrin simply watched with amused sympathy.
“I’m a cattle man, and becoming a farmer man—actually, that would be just a farmer, I guess, and I’m certainly not soldier material, sir, because I like to create life, not destroy it. No offense, sir, I realize you actually defend life, but even you told me once that you feel more like a destroyer. But sir, I want to assure you that—”
“Deck!” Perrin said, standing up to catch him as he paced around the table yet again. “You don’t need to keep listing for me all your very admirable traits. I’m already sold on you.”
“You’re what?” Deck said, blinking to wake his brain out of his speech to focus on what Perrin was saying.
“Deck, believe me: I don’t want Jaytsy interested in a soldier. I want her to be happy, and honestly, son, I’ve never seen her happier than since she met you. So if all of this isn’t about you wanting to ask her to marry you, you better think again because I won’t tolerate you breaking her heart. Instead, you’ll become the 52nd man whose life I end.”
Deck collapsed on the table at that point, and Perrin spent the next half hour patting him on the back and getting him water and helping him slow his breathing, feeling a bit guilty that Deckett still wasn’t sure when Colonel Shin was just playing with him.
Eventually he was able to say, “Sir, may I have your permission to ask Jaytsy to marry me?” while his head rested on the table with a wet cloth on his neck which Perrin had placed there.
“What an excellent idea! But I have one condition: you have to call me Perrin,” he said, unable to resist teasing him once more.
“I’m trying to, sir. Perrin.”
“Excellent, Mr. Briter. Well done, son.”
---
That evening Shem was already seated with the family to dinner when Deckett came boldly through the kitchen door without knocking. He cuffed Shem playfully on the shoulder and casually sat down by Jaytsy without even an apology for his lateness.
Shem gave him a reproving look which Deckett ignored.
Over the past five moons Deck had become as common a fixture in the Shin household as Shem, but usually he was more reserved, respectful, and nervous, as a courting young man should be.
But not tonight, and Shem watched him warily.
With a twinkle in his eye, Deckett pointed to the plate of bread. “Perrin, could you hand that to me?”
Shem’s eyebrows rose at his overly casual tone, and shifted his gaze to Perrin to watch his response.
Perrin didn’t look at Shem. Curiously, no one in the family seemed to be meeting his gaze.
“Of course, Deck,” Perrin said easily. “Anything else?”
“No, but Mahrree, could you pass the soup?”
Shem dropped his fork in astonishment. Now that was completely inappropriate, calling Mrs. Shin by her first name?
But Mahrree only nodded, seemingly biting her tongue, and gave Deckett the bowl.
Realizing neither Perrin nor Mahrree would meet his questioning look, Shem next sent Peto a demanding frown.
Peto frowned back as if to say, Something wrong?
To his right Shem noticed Deck elbowing Jaytsy, who stared hard at her plate.
“And how about something from you?” Deckett said, with a quaver in his voice that immediately put Shem on guard.
Jaytsy’s head popped up. “How about this?” and she kissed Deck full on the mouth.
“Whoa!” Shem’s eyes bulged nearly out of his head. He banged the table in Yordin fashion, sending all of the dishes clattering. “What’s going on here?” He snatched up his fork again and aimed it at Deckett. “PERRIN! If you don’t do something, I will!”
“What, Shem?” Perrin said coolly, taking a bite of bread. “Do you have a problem with my future son-in-law?”
Shem sat motionless for at least ten seconds, his jaw sagging.
The family watched him in eager expectation. Now all eyes were on him.
He turned slowly to Jaytsy and Deck, who were fully red.
Jaytsy, grinning, nodded.
Shem couldn’t help it. Great big tears rolled down his face as he realized that Jaytsy would be marrying the kindest, gentlest young man he had ever met.
And not Lemuel Thorne.
He stood up, came behind Jaytsy and Deck, and hugged them, chairs and all.
“Am I invited?” he asked, his voice growing husky.
“Of course! Uncle Shem, are you all right?” Jaytsy said as Shem pulled away and dabbed at his eyes.
He stood up and cleared his throat. “Yes, yes! I’m just so, so . . . surprised. I couldn’t be happier.” He punched Deck in the shoulder to show how happy he was and kissed Jaytsy on the forehead.
Deck winced as he rubbed his shoulder. “Thanks, Uncle Shem.”
Shem shook his head. “I’m an uncle again.” He sighed as he sat down and stared at the couple. “That’s just wonderful! Our little Jaytsy.” He couldn’t control his chin wobbling as he choked out, “Even little Jaytsy, whose cloths I changed and who used to suck her thumb, is getting married before I am.”
“Ah, Shem,” Peto said, scooping up some soup. “I promise I won’t get married before you. How’s that?”
“Not at all comforting, Peto.”
---
It was late at night by the time Perrin was able to slip into his office at home. Part of the problem was that he was battling his wife.
Maybe it was a bit dramatic to cast it in that light, but that’s how he felt as he tried to shut the door on Mahrree who kept tossing more ideas at him through the gap while Jaytsy took notes.
“Yes, yes, yes. I’ll take care of the letter to the Mountseen Briters. I’ll be charming and welcoming, Mahrree, don’t worry. And I’ll write to Yordin. No, I’m sure it won’t be a problem using the fort for the dinner. Move your foot, Mahrree. No, I’m not writing to the Fadhs and Karnas yet—it’s too early! I sincerely doubt they’re going to Idumea for The Dinner. All right, fine—I’ll send them brief messages in the morning telling t
hem to keep the date open, so if you’d just let me shut the—Yes, I’ll remind them all to be discreet. No, the Thornes won’t find out. Look, I’m going to pinch your fingers in the door . . . Quit planning the dinner already! Get some sleep, Jayts. The entire wedding doesn’t have to be figured out tonight!”
He latched the door before Mahrree or Jaytsy could barge in. Peto, the night owl, had gone to bed two hours ago.
Perrin pulled out his best ink and newest quills, setting them precisely on his desk, but not for writing letters. He rubbed his hands together before retrieving a roll of parchment, resting horizontally on the shelf and looking like nothing too interesting.
Filled with renewing energy—and now working against a deadline to create the best secret wedding present ever—he silently unrolled the parchments.
He spent the next hour or so illuminated only by one candle, poring over his work with painstaking care. He stopped working before he became too sleepy, because he didn’t want to risk making any mistakes.
This one had to be perfect too, just like the others.
Chapter 25 ~ “Like everyone else, I fell for the stories.”