“That can’t be promising,” she whispered. He always sent Shem with messages, unless—
The back door flew open and he smiled his practiced grin. “Hello, my darling wife!”
“What is it?” she asked tonelessly.
He leaned over and kissed her. “Can’t I come home in the middle of the day to check on my wife and her new sofa? Oh. Wait. I see. There’s someone else here, isn’t there? What’s his name? Out with it.” He folded his arms and glared at her severely.
“You’re right, Perrin,” she tried to keep her face solemn as she wrung her hands. “I should have told you this before, but . . . there is someone else. Has been for some time. I’ve regretted the relationship from the beginning, and I never should’ve agreed to it. But now I’m trapped. No matter what I do, I can’t get him to leave me alone. He resists all my attempts and . . . well, he’s on the sofa right now, staring at me.”
Perrin nodded slowly. “Well, I’ll take care of that. BARKER!”
They heard his claws on the wood floor eagerly scrambling to come to the only human he ever obeyed. He plunged through the door and sat obediently at Perrin’s feet, the dog’s melon-sized head even with Perrin’s belly.
Perrin petted his head and opened the door for him to go out.
“Right into the muddy back garden!” Mahrree whimpered. “Not exactly what I was wanting. Well, you’re far less gullible than Shem was last week when I pulled the same thing on him.”
“That’s because he told me about it,” Perrin chuckled. “Said he was so nervous that you might be serious about an unwanted man on your sofa that he nearly dropped his long knife. He still dreads using his sword, unless it’s in practice.”
“So, I’m still wondering why you’re here . . .” she hinted.
His pastry smile returned. “There are, indeed, changes to the education of the world!”
For a brief moment her heart leaped, then it fell back into place when she realized his voice was far cheerier than his eyes.
“What have they done?”
“After such a successful debut on a trial basis, Full School is now mandatory throughout the world, beginning with the upcoming Harvest Season. Isn’t that wonderful?!” He could have frosted cakes with his grin.
Mahrree bared her teeth.
“That’ll never do for a convincing smile, by the way,” he gestured at her face. “Work on lifting the corners of your mouth, like this.” He pointed to his own stiff grin.
“I’m not smiling,” she assured him.
“Obviously.” He sighed as he pulled out some folded pages from his jacket. “Thought you’d want to know as soon as possible. Teachers will no longer need to worry about consulting parents about what their children will learn,” he said, holding up the document in his hands. “Since it’s such a burden . . .”
Mahrree snatched the official parchment from him. Forts always got news from Idumea a day before the village magistrates received their bundle to post on the notice boards. Maybe it was to hint to the army that trouble may erupt the next day.
Mahrree was near to boiling as she read out loud. “‘All directives in children’s education will now come directly from the Department of Instruction, under the supervision of the Administrator of Education.’” She let out a low whistle.
“There’s more,” he pointed. “But only if you feel compelled to read it.”
She grunted. “Like running across a the remains of a mouse after Barker’s had at it—as gruesome as it is, you feel compelled to see it all . . . ‘All schools will now be under the guidance of Directors of Education, up to three depending upon the size of the village. These men will oversee school construction, teacher selection, and curriculum implementation, thus removing the responsibility of parents to worry about, for even one moment, their children’s education.’”
“What?” Perrin said, moving behind her to read over her shoulder.
“I added the last part,” Mahrree confessed between her clenched teeth. She continued reading. “‘In order to improve management of the schools, new Educational Regions will be established to oversee the Directors of Education—’ So that’s two more levels of supervisors?”
“Well, there’s the Administrator, then the Head of the Department of Instruction, then the Overseers of the Educational Regions, then the Directors of Education—”
“Oh, this is insane!” Mahrree spat. “At least they can’t add any more levels, because I think they’ve exhausted the amount of titles they can come up with.”