The Falcon in the Barn (Book 4 Forest at the Edge series) (68 page)

“
Not yet,” Genev said with
a hint of planning.

Mal rubbed his chin. “Would take quite a bit
of doing . . . there are a few Administrators who would be
difficult to convince to pass such a law . . . But maybe,” he said,
leaning forward, “maybe we just need the
threat
, not the
actual laws. You mentioned thickening her file—how will you do
that?”

“
I have an idea or two of
how to gather evidence of her threat to the world. It’ll likely
take a few seasons, but nothing too long,” Genev assured him. “Of
course, we’ll agree to drop the sedition charges as long as she
promises to behave herself in the future and support her husband as
the new High General. Then we’ll have them both under our influence
here in Idumea. They’ll be too intimidated to make a wrong move
against the Administrators, and that’s when we can try some truly
probing experiments. Stabbing a caged animal is quite
entertaining.”

“
Then what of General
Thorne?” said Mal with a knowing smile.

Genev chuckled, or so Mal assumed the sound
was meant to be. “Wouldn’t that be the problem of the new High
General Shin? Perhaps that should be the first question we test:
what will Qayin Thorne do once he’s cast aside? What happens when
two male bears fight for the same territory?”

Mal clapped his hands. “YES! I can hardly
wait! Get me some parchment, I need to be writing all of this down
. . .”

Chapter 26
~
“But what do you know how to use, a
pitchfork?”

A
lmost two weeks
later, on the 49
^th
Day of Planting Season, 337, Shem sat
down in the big chair behind Colonel Shin’s desk with a satisfied
sigh. He could see why Thorne snuck over to sit in it whenever the
colonel was away. With the lieutenants out on evening patrols—even
in the cold of middle Planting Season the boys were active again
rearranging people’s livestock—and Thorne not yet returned from The
Dinner in Idumea, Sergeant Major Zenos was in charge. He smirked as
he looked around the office, appearing larger when lit by the
lanterns.

But the notion of control was all an
illusion. The big desk, the power—all of it meant responsibility.
The desk was filled with paperwork and forms. It equaled drudgery,
and why anyone would want possession of it for long, Shem couldn’t
understand. He was glad it was his only temporarily.

Except for the contents of one thin drawer.
It contained a sealed envelope with his name on it. He slid open
the drawer to see if it was still there, and felt his heart
drop.

It was.

The Death Drawer—as it was irreverently
referred to by those who knew of it—held contents for only Shem
Zenos.

Perrin had showed it to him nearly two years
ago when they came back from Idumea. He could still hear his
friend’s insistence.

“
Promise me, Shem. Promise
me you’ll do exactly what that letter says.”

Shem had fingered the sealed envelope
anxiously. “It’d be easier to promise if you’d tell me what it
said.”

Perrin had flashed him The Dinner smile.
“Doesn’t work that way, Shem. It won’t be unpleasant, I assure you.
I just need your word to make me feel better, then we’ll never
speak of this again. In fact, I’ll let you burn it the day I retire
from the army.”

Shem had smiled reluctantly. That likely
wouldn’t be for decades. “All right, Perrin. I promise I’ll carry
out your last request. Now promise me something.”

“
All right,” he’d said
slowly.

“
Don’t die!”

Shem smiled now to remember how Perrin had
laughed. Then right after that the crate arrived with his father’s
sword, and Perrin didn’t laugh again for almost another year.

But now, yet another year later, the world
was right again. Better than right, he grinned as he slid shut the
drawer. He leaned back in the chair and started to lift a boot to
place on top of the desk when he heard footsteps coming up the
stairs. He quickly put down his foot and resumed a more commanding
position.

A soldier came to the open door.“Sir? Captain
Thorne’s on his way. He just rode into the stables.”

“
Thank you, Staff Sergeant.
You and the sergeant out there know what to do.”

“
Yes, sir,” he saluted,
closed the door, and Shem heard him take a chair in the outer
office. He chose those men—strapping, experienced, and
fearless—specifically for tonight.

Shem pulled out some paperwork and tried to
concentrate on catching up from being away for three days, but he
couldn’t. He was sure the captain would be bounding upstairs in a
just a few minutes, and then Shem would give him The News.

No one wanted to let Deck do it, even though
he was determined. During the wedding dinner his intentions became
known when Roarin’ Yordin laughingly asked what Thorne thought of
the marriage. There were nearly as many uniforms in Mountseen as
there were down in Idumea that night. The tables set up on the dirt
floor in the training arena of the fort may not have been as
elegant as the mansion, but the large room was filled with as much
noise, food, and probably much more laughter.

And no dancing. Colonel’s orders.

“
Thorne doesn’t know about
the wedding,” Perrin had told Yordin. “Hardly anyone in Edge and no
one in Idumea knows.”

“
So how are you going to
break it to him?” Lieutenant Colonel Yordin asked
Perrin.

“
He’s not,” Deckett said
firmly. “I’m going to talk to him when we get back. It’s my
wedding, my wife, my responsibility.”

Yordin shook his head. “It will also be your
burial. Next week in Edge. My schedule can’t accommodate that, Mr.
Briter.” The slap shook most of the dishes on the long table.

“
He’s right, Deckett,” said
Colonel Karna. “Don’t make Jaytsy a widow before she’s
eighteen.”

Deckett was insulted. “I can take care of
this!”

Lieutenant Colonel Fadh leaned over to him
from his seat at the table. “You don’t understand men like Thorne.
Or men like his father. Captain Thorne knows how to use a sword,
and quite well. But what do you know how to use, a pitchfork?”

Deckett didn’t appreciate the sniggers of the
officers, and Shem was glad that he didn’t brag that he’d had a
lesson in using a pitchfork. Perrin had confided to Shem that his
future son-in-law was quite useless as a soldier, but one of his
many redeeming qualities was that knew how to raise an amazingly
juicy and tender steak.

At least Perrin didn’t laugh. He didn’t even
smile. “Deck, I appreciate your desire to handle Lemuel Thorne,”
Perrin told him. “But he’s not as stable as you. He won’t just
talk. He has an impulsiveness that’s dangerous.”

Jaytsy fidgeted in worry next to her new
husband.

Deck covered his bride’s hand with his. “I
know all about Thorne’s impulsiveness, sir. That’s why I want to
take care of him.”

“
No!” Perrin said so
decisively that Deckett shrank back a little.

Rector Yung, who had traveled down to witness
the wedding, leaned over from his seat further along the table.
“Deckett, listen to the officers. They know a bit more about the
captain than you do.”

Deck’s rector, sitting next to Yung, nodded
in agreement.

But Deck’s Uncle Holling, his Aunt Lila, and
cousin Atlee looked nervously—as they had all day—at the men in
dress uniforms bedecked with medals and patches and sharpened
blades.

“
I want the job to tell
Thorne!” Yordin grinned and slapped. “I’ve got a sword, and I’d
love to see the look on his face when—”

“
I’ll do it,” Shem had
interrupted. “Thorne and I have an
understanding
.”

Jaytsy and Deck nodded at Shem.

So did Perrin.

Mahrree eyed the three of them, sensing that
she was missing something.

“
Besides,” Shem added, “the
colonel won’t let me stay in Mountseen longer than tomorrow. He
thinks someone will take over the fort if one of us isn’t
there.”

Yordin pointed a teasing finger to Colonel
Shin. “He’s just upset about being the only one not promoted. I
told you, Shin, I’m still working on making you a general. Why do
you think we all boycotted The Dinner, even after our
special
invitations?”

Mrs. Yordin whispered loudly across the table
to Mahrree. “Because Gari’s afraid to dance!”

“
Because you knew you’d eat
better here, Eltana,” Colonel Shin replied, winking at Mrs.
Yordin.

Gari Yordin gave his wife an irate elbow
nudge, but his eyes were smiling.

“
Besides,” Perrin had said,
“it’ll be good for Captain Thorne to take all the praise for last
year’s offensive. Give him some confidence. Help cushion the blow
to come.”

Shem now sat in the command office staring at
the same piece of paper he pulled out five minutes ago, wondering
how that ‘blow’ would be taken. A variety of scenarios played
through his mind, and a variety of responses as well. All of them
ended with someone being carried to the surgeon’s. That’s why he
needed the strongest sergeants of the fort waiting outside.

Boots trotting up the stairs had a familiar
gait to them. He took a deep breath when he heard the—

Knock-knock . . . knock-knock-knock.

Perrin was right; the rhythm was all wrong,
as well as the implication that it was
him
and that the
person sitting behind the desk should be thrilled that he was
banging in such a clumsy stagger on his door.

“
Come in,” he did his best
impression of Perrin.

“
Colonel! I’m back, and I
saw your light on—” the door opened. “What are
you
doing
there?”

Shem spread his hands out in front of him and
put on a big smile. “Being in charge until you return, of course!
Have a good time in Idumea, Captain?”

Lemuel Thorne walked into the office and came
up to the desk, clearly not pleased to see Shem. “Yes,” he said
shortly. “Where’s the colonel?”

Shem gestured for Thorne to sit down in the
chair.

Thorne’s brow furrowed in worry.

Shem shook his head then gestured again to
the chair. “He’s out on a trip with the family.”

“
He actually
went
somewhere? He said he never likes to leave the fort. Where’d he
go?” Thorne slowly sat down.

“
Mountseen. Yordin’s been
wanting him to come down for some time now and . . .”

Shem stopped.

He had to be honest. As much as he despised
Lemuel he still found himself pitying him just a bit. He was still
young, still inexperienced, and still hopeful.

Also still a presumptuous idiot and a
loathsome oaf, but
still
.

Shem sighed and leaned forward on the desk in
what he hoped was a kindly manner. “Captain—
Lemuel
—the Shin
family went to Mountseen for . . . Jaytsy’s wedding. She married
Deckett Briter two days ago. He has family there and . . .” When he
saw Thorne’s reaction, the words just came out. “Boy, I’m
sorry.”

The color had drained out of Lemuel’s face.
He looked as if he was going to be sick and his chest heaved up and
down. “Briter?”

“
He has the fort farm.”
Shem gestured to the window. “His parents died from the pox, and he
came and took it over during Weeding Season last year.”

Judging by the stunned look on his face
Thorne obviously had no idea there had been anyone else but him.
“Jaytsy married . . .
a mere farmer?
What did he do to
her?!” He leaped to his feet. “Why such the rush? What’d he
do?”

Shem stood up and gently pushed Thorne back
down. “Sit down, sit down. Deckett didn’t do anything to her. He’s
not that
kind of a man.
” Shem’s meaning was very clear, and
he challenged Thorne to meet his eyes.

Thorne refused but stared at a corner, his
jaw clenching.

“
There was nothing sudden
about the wedding,” Shem told him. “It’s been planned for almost
three moons. They’d been courting since Weeding Season when she was
working on the farm. Lemuel, I’m sorry, but Jaytsy loves him.
Somehow you’re going to have to deal with that and find a way to
let her go.”

Thorne’s chin began to tremble and he shifted
in the chair as if the seat were suddenly infested with biting
ants. “That’s not what was supposed to happen!” he yelled.
Something came unhinged in the captain, and he jumped to his feet
again, blindly swinging his fist.

Shem had expected this and already dodged out
of the way so that Thorne’s fist connected with the wall behind
him, embedding itself in the splintered wood. The captain yelled a
complete list of swear words, a few of which, Shem concluded, must
have been new that he picked up in Idumea.

Sure that Thorne’s situation was not about to
let him deliver any new punches, Shem shook his head in sympathy as
Lemuel writhed in pain.

He opened the door. “Staff Sergeant, would
you please go get Dr. Frenulum? Captain Thorne is not well.
Again.”

As the sergeant ran down the stairs,
sheathing the sword he wasn’t going to need, Shem regarded Thorne
with genuine pity. He gently tried to extract the now bleeding fist
from the wall that refused to release it, grateful it was the wood
that caught it and not his face.

“
Boy,” he said to Thorne,
who was panting in pain, “first thirty stitches, then the pox, and
now a . . . yes, I pretty sure it’s broken, a broken hand to
accompany your broken heart. I thought when the new year started a
few weeks ago that it might be a little easier on you, but I guess
it isn’t.”