“Which would explain why—had he killed two men—he was in the surgery wing vomiting last night,” the general said with a slight edge to his voice.
Mahrree’s mouth dropped open in surprise, and she stopped walking until her father-in-law pulled her along.
“Surely not, General! Why—why would he do it? No. Absolutely not. Ridiculous. I think the other story is more plausible. They got in an argument, and they both were deadly at the same time. It seems unlikely, I agree, but certainly not impossible. And there’s no evidence of bloody footsteps leaving the scene, according to what Grandpy Neeks told me. Perrin said only yesterday that four of your guards were new soldiers you don’t even know—”
“And you don’t know Shem Zenos!” the general interrupted her sharply.
But it wasn’t sharp enough to shut her up. “Sir, I know him better than you! Right now you’re grabbing at any possibility, which means you’ve lost your impartiality. You don’t want the truth. You only want convenient answers!”
“Truth?! I’ve lost MY impartiality!” he bellowed.
Just as the general was about to round on Mahrree and let her know exactly what he thought, she stopped him with, “Did you trust Hogal Densal?”
General Shin blinked, startled out of his fury by the odd question. “What?”
“Hogal Densal—did you trust him?”
The general sighed, slightly calmer. “I did. We didn’t see eye-to-eye on many things, but Hogal was an excellent judge of character, and noticed things no one else could.”
“Hogal trusted Shem,” Mahrree told him. “So do we. He told us repeatedly to keep Shem close to us, and said he was the finest young man he ever knew, after Perrin.”
General Shin looked down at the ground for a moment. “Hogal said that?”
Mahrree nodded. “High praise coming from him, wouldn’t you agree?”
The general was quiet for half a minute, staring at the floor, and Mahrree shifted in worry for her favorite soldier.
“Come, Mahrree,” the general eventually said. “Joriana needs a woman’s presence right now.”
Mahrree smiled primly as the general led her to their guest room.
Changing the subject was as close as the general would get to conceding defeat in anything.
---
That afternoon a bleary-eyed Perrin came home and sat down at the eating table. Mahrree was glad the house was quiet, because he looked like he needed it. She’d sent her After School Care boys to join with another group for the day, just in case there were more surprises for the Shin family.
That morning Mahrree had brought a fretful Joriana to their home—along with two guards who stationed themselves at either door—and shortly before midday meal Hycymum came over, curious as to why her daughter’s house was “soldiered.” Hycymum came up with the wonderful idea to distract Joriana from the events of the night by taking her to the market so she could help her find the latest Idumea fashions, and Joriana decided her two grandchildren needed new clothes, too. The soldiers gave each other passing looks of dread as they followed the party of four to the markets. Mahrree couldn’t think of anything more distracting for Mother Shin than to try to shop with Hycymum and their two grandchildren.
When she finally returned, she would need a very quiet place herself.
Perrin supported his head in his hands and sighed as Mahrree put a plate of late midday meal in front of him. He hadn’t eaten since last night. He never ate when he was absorbed in a problem.
“Anything new?” she asked.
Perrin shook his head. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. All evidence—well, what there is of it—points to a fight between the two men. Maybe that’s all that happened.”
Mahrree sat down across from him. “You don’t sound as if you believe that. Why?”
His hands came off his face. “Shem was sick last night. I spoke with him for a few minutes this morning. He suggested the most extraordinary thing.”
“What?” Mahrree bit her lip.
“That the lieutenants may have been Guarders, trying to kill my parents.”
Mahrree gasped. “Why . . . why that’s . . . that’s . . .”
“Pretty much my initial response too,” Perrin agreed with her stammering. “But all morning I’ve been thinking about it. And then my father revealed to me one detail.” He shook his head again. “Mahrree, when he opened his door to discover the two officers on the ground, the door handle had already been unlatched, as if someone was about to enter his room, but stopped.”
“Meaning?” Mahrree breathed.
“The lieutenants may have already had their knives drawn. Perhaps they were going into my parents’ room. Perhaps . . . someone stopped them from whatever they were planning.”