by C. J. Archer
My father nodded. "I'll make one up."
"Will it take long?"
"An hour once I get back to my surgery." An hour for an antidote was too long. He was holding something back, but I couldn't fathom what.
"Then go!" Lady Claypool said through her tears. "Go now, Doctor, please. Hurry back."
"Captain…" Lord Claypool began, casting a look toward Hammer.
The captain nodded. "He'll have an escort the whole way and our fastest horses."
"Continue to give her liquids," Father told the maid. "We need to flush it out of her system as much as we can before I give her the antidote." He had hardly finished speaking before he was out the door.
I hurried after him, the captain and the Vytill sergeant on my heels. Max remained behind. We caught up to my father.
"Does she have an hour, Doctor?" the captain asked.
"She has two," Father said without breaking his long strides. "If she's strong and healthy."
"She seemed to be, before this."
"Are you a god-fearing man, Captain?"
The sergeant grunted a harsh laugh.
"Pray to the goddess Hailia that she lives. Come. We must hurry."
Captain Hammer's silent presence was a distraction. He stood inside the front door, his arms crossed, legs slightly apart, and watched us through the open door of Father's workroom as we tested and re-tested the contents of Lady Miranda's stomach. Without a sample of the poisoned food or liquid, we had only the evidence of her discharge to go by. It should be enough.
Father clicked his tongue. "Too much riverwart." He used the tongs to remove the small dish from the grill over the low fire and threw both dish and liquid into the pail near his feet. It was a terrible waste but we couldn't risk reusing a dish the poison had touched. "Damnation." He pressed a hand to his lower back and stretched. "Another, Josie."
I handed him a clean dish and scooped a coin-sized chunk of Lady Miranda's regurgitated meal onto it with a spoon. We had precious little left. "Should I halve the quantity of riverwart this time?"
"Try one third. Going by the speed at which it burned, I grossly overestimated the amount."
I handed him the bowl of ground riverwart but he shook his head. "You do it. My hands are shaking."
I'd noticed them trembling a while ago but hadn't pointed it out. He could be sensitive about his age on occasion, but I knew he'd ask me to take over if the trembling interfered with his ability to work. He might be somewhat vain about his age, but never to the detriment of a patient's wellbeing.
I added the requisite quantities of the six other ingredients that we'd identified for the antidote based on Father's old notes from a book I'd never seen him refer to before. We only had the riverwart to go. The painstaking process of testing and re-testing to find the right quantities of each ingredient had meant we'd taken longer than the hour. Father told me upon our arrival at the cottage that he'd only said that to give the patient hope. If she had hope, she might find the strength to fight and we needed her to fight. We'd be cutting it very fine to get back to her on time. It all depended on how much riverwart needed to be added to the other ingredients to neutralize the poison left in Lady Miranda's vomit.
I heard the front door open but did not turn around as I measured out the powder.
"Aren't they ready yet?" came the voice of the other sergeant, the one named Brant. "The hour has long passed."
"Go back outside," the captain growled.
My father left the workroom to speak to them. "It's a complicated process," I heard him hiss. "It's not a combination of poisons I've come across before and the ratios used are unknown. Traitor's ease is rare. Very rare. I've only seen it once in its raw form—years ago, in Zemaya. If you want us to work faster, you'll shut up so we can think."
I smiled. Father might seem like a meek professorial type of man, but two things stirred his passionate nature—the wellbeing of his patients, and when someone disparaged me.
"Shouldn't you be in there making the antidote?" Sergeant Brant said to him.
"My daughter is more than capable."
"Is she qualified?"
"She has a lot of experience."
"I'm sure the king would like to hear how the unqualified daughter of the local healer was left to create the antidote to save one of the most important ladies in the realm. We should have used the finance minister's doctor, as he offered."
"The king will receive a full report," was all the captain said. "Return to your post outside, Sergeant."
I heard the front door close. I added a lump of peat to the fire contained within the heatproof box set up on the desk and tipped the riverwart into the dish. Father rejoined me and watched as I mixed the powder with the other ingredients until it was fully dissolved then set the dish on the grill over the fire.
The liquid quickly heated to simmering point but seemed to take forever to boil. The other experiments hadn't taken this long. I looked to Father.
His lips twitched into a smile. "I think this is it."
The liquid in the dish bubbled and turned a yellowish-green color.
"Take it off the heat," Father said, handing me the tongs. "Quickly now. We don't want it to burn away."
I set the bowl down carefully on the tray. "That's the right color?"
He handed me a ceramic jar. "It is. Commit it to memory, Josie. I hope you'll never need to make this antidote again, but one never knows, particularly now that the palace has sprung up nearby."
"What has that got to do with poisons?"
"It's the favorite method of murder at courts all over The Fist and beyond. Has been for centuries." He pressed the jar into my hand with a grim smile. "There's no time to wait for it to cool. Pour it in now. Don't spill any."
The dish had cooled enough for me to touch it with my bare hands. With a steadying breath, I poured the medicine into the jar. Father fixed the cork stopper in place.
"Remind me to update my notes later," he said, tucking the jar into the pocket of his loose doublet.
Without a word of instruction, Hammer opened the door and followed us out.
"About time," Sergeant Brant muttered under his breath.
I hadn't thought it possible to go any faster, but we drove at such a speed on the return to the palace that we did not slow for bumps or dips. Father and I got tossed around inside the cabin but it didn't seem to bother him in the least.
He didn't wait for the footman to open the door upon our arrival at the palace. He strode on ahead, joined by the captain. I picked up my skirts and ran after them, the sergeant behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled and I turned quickly on the service stairs, catching him watching me.
"I hope I didn't offend you earlier," he said. "It's not personal. It's just that the king's mistress should have the best doctor."
"And you believe the finance minister's doctor is the best?" I asked.
"So I hear."
"You hear wrong. My father is the best, and if he lived in Tilting, he'd have the sort of reputation that would satisfy you. But he prefers to be in Mull, where the people are in dire need of excellent medical attention. That's just the sort of person he is."
"I can see why Max and Quentin like you," he muttered.
I forged ahead and met the glare of Captain Hammer, holding the door open for me. His eyes had a way of making me feel as though he was rummaging around inside me, searching for my secrets. I pushed past him and followed my father along the corridor to Lady Miranda's sitting room.
A man dressed in black with gold braid at the shoulder, like Captain Hammer's uniform, stood just inside the door. He nodded gravely at Hammer, who nodded back.
Another man paced across the carpet near the hearth. He stopped abruptly and fixed dark eyes on my father. He was short and slender with black hair that fell to his white lace collar in gentle waves. He couldn't have been more than mid-twenties, and his face looked vaguely familiar but I couldn't place it. He wore a doublet of deep blue with silver leaves and vines embr
oidered over the sleeves and down the front. The white lace cuffs of his shirt fell to his knuckles. He tipped his head back and peered down his nose at us; quite a feat considering he was shorter.
"Are you the doctor?" he demanded.
"This is Doctor Cully and his daughter Joselyn Cully, sire," Captain Hammer announced.
Sire? So this was Glancia's new king? I hurriedly performed a curtsy that almost ended in my humiliation, since I hadn't a clue how to curtsy properly. Thankfully the king was too busy ushering my father through to the bedroom to notice.
"Hurry then!" he said. "There is not a moment to delay."
I caught a glimpse of the painting hanging above the mantel as I passed and realized why the king looked familiar. It was his portrait hanging there, although he seemed more imposing in the picture as he looked down on the painter with disdain. The real monarch was far less regal. Indeed, he looked quite ordinary.
I nodded at Sergeant Max, still standing where we'd left him, and joined Father at the bed. Lord and Lady Claypool had stood upon our entry and peppered Father with questions about the antidote.
He put up his hand for silence as he bent over Lady Miranda, who lay almost unmoving in the bed. She looked little better than a corpse. Sweat dripped from her brow onto the pillow, and her face was as white as the sheets on which she lay. Her breathing labored in shallow rasps and her eyelids fluttered. She was barely conscious, but at least she was alive.
Father removed the jar from his pocket and asked the maid to assist Lady Miranda to sit up. She struggled, and Max came to her aid. The maid settled behind her mistress to support her, and I tipped her head back and opened her mouth. Father poured a little of the liquid down her throat. She instinctively swallowed and he poured more. He continued the process slowly until the entire contents of the jar were gone.
The maid laid Lady Miranda down again, and everyone, including the king but not the guards, crowded close to the bed. The room fell silent. Father and I exchanged glances and small smiles. Lady Miranda's breathing was returning to normal. It was an excellent sign.
"She'll sleep now," Father whispered, backing away from the bed. "May I respectfully suggest that she be left in peace for the rest of the day? Only her maid is to be allowed to check on her from time to time, but not wake her."
"And me," Lady Claypool murmured without taking her eyes off her daughter.
"Yes, of course. It's imperative that Lady Miranda sleeps as long as she needs. Her body must rest to allow the antidote to work as efficiently as possible. I expect her to sleep through the night to the morning. It's vitally important she isn't disturbed. Is that clear?"
Everyone nodded. The maid looked terrified, particularly when Father signaled for her to follow him into the sitting room.
"She may grow restless in a few hours," he said quietly. "This is normal and expected. Make sure Lady Claypool is aware when it happens and does not try to wake her daughter. I don't expect Lady Miranda to purge any more. If her color hasn't returned by dawn, send for me. If she doesn't wake by midday the day after, send for me. I'll return after then to check on her anyway."
"You will stay until she is well, Doctor," the king commanded. He signaled to his man standing by the door to the corridor, and the servant approached.
"I regret that I cannot," my father said.
Merdu. Was he mad? He was certainly behaving irrationally. He might not be all that respectful when he had to tend to one of the Deerhorns, but they were only lords. This was the king, and kings’ wishes were not refused.
King Leon bristled. "Lady Miranda is very dear to me. If she dies—"
"She won't if she's left alone to rest."
The king's nostrils flared at the interruption. He slapped one hand against the palm of the other behind his back. "Nevertheless, the village is too far away. If you're needed urgently, it will take too long for you to be fetched."
"I have an afternoon schedule full of patients who need me, sire." Father bowed. "I am sorry, but the people of Mull are important too."
The king puffed out his chest and lifted his chin. His manservant winced, as if he expected an explosion of temper from his master.
"I'll stay," I said quickly.
"Josie," my father scolded.
"I know the danger signs," I added. "I can answer any questions His Majesty or Lady Miranda's family may have, and I'll know how to keep her comfortable."
The king glanced at me, away, and back again. Those deep, dark eyes scanned me from head to toe with cool assessment. "You're a woman."
"Yes," I said, biting back the sarcasm that came naturally to my lips.
"My daughter would be a doctor if the college allowed it," Father said proudly. "She would graduate top of her class."
"But they don't allow it."
A small frown creased the captain's forehead as he followed the exchange.
"Please, Your Majesty," I said. "I know it's unusual, but I also know my father will not give up his Mull patients, and I am more than capable of tending to Lady Miranda as she recovers. Besides, there'll be little to do except observe her." The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to stay. Not for Lady Miranda, who seemed to be out of danger, but because the palace and its inhabitants fascinated me. It was an opportunity to learn more.
"I prefer you to come home with me, Josie," Father said. "I need your help. My eyes are bad now and my hands…" He held up his hands. They trembled too much for it to be a natural shake.
I gave him a glare that told him I knew it. He looked a little sheepish for lying, at least.
"She stays." The king turned to his manservant, a slender fellow of about thirty with the flat face and straight hair of the Dreen. "Send someone to go with Doctor Cully and bring back the things Miss Cully will need overnight."
"Yes, sire." He turned to go.
"And Theodore?"
"Yes, sire?"
"Make sure the court knows that no noise is to reach Lady Miranda's rooms. There will be no revelries tonight, no musicales, and no games. If they complain, tell them to use the time to reflect."
"Yes, sire." Theodore hurried out of the room.
Captain Hammer directed Sergeant Brant to escort my father home. Sergeant Brant looked as if he'd question the order, but a glare from Hammer silenced him.
My father didn't immediately follow him out. "May I have a word in private with my daughter?"
"Of course," the king said, stepping toward the captain. "Hammer, you must find out who did this before he strikes again."
My father grabbed my elbow before I could stumble through a curtsy and steered me away from them. "Josie, I forbid you to leave these rooms."
"Why?"
"Because…" He indicated the sitting room, the window, the door, but I had no idea why. "Because this place is strange. Its very existence is strange. The sooner you leave here, the happier I'll be."
"Father," I chided. "This place may be odd, but it's not sinister. And it's certainly real, not a magic palace."
One white eyebrow crept up his forehead. "It seems there is a poisoner within these walls. Is that sinister enough for you?"
"I won't eat anything intended for the Lady Miranda."
"Don't be glib." He looked toward Captain Hammer who stood with Sergeant Brant, the king having left. "I don't like you being exposed to these people, Josie. There's something about them…"
"Something odd, yes, we've established that." I kissed his cheek. "Go. They're waiting."
Father gave me a flat smile and joined the captain and sergeant. "Where can direweed and traitor's ease be purchased in Mull?" I heard the captain ask as they exited the sitting room.
"Direweed is sold by two traders that I know of," Father said. "Traitor's ease is another matter. I've never seen it in Mull's market."
I re-entered the sickroom. Lord and Lady Claypool seemed to take my presence as a signal for them to leave. They excused themselves and hurried from the room. I sat with the maid, Hilda, but almost fell as
leep in the chair. The return of Lady Claypool roused me some time later. She looked much fresher and extraordinarily elegant in a dove-gray gown trimmed with pink lace, her golden hair fixed into an elaborate arrangement that must have required at least two maids to do in the time she'd been absent.
I signaled to Max to join me in the sitting room and shut the door behind him. "You won't be needed," I said. "She'll sleep for a while."
"I don't require rest, and the captain ordered me to remain here." He checked the corridor outside then rejoined me. After a moment, he sighed and sat on a chair. He rubbed his knee. "Will she really be all right?"
"There is always some lingering concern until the patient is fully recovered, but she should be fine. My father wouldn't have left if he thought otherwise."
"The captain said Doctor Cully is an expert in poisons."
"He is, from his travels."
"Would he know who supplied the poisoner?"
"No. He can guess, as I can, and he will pass those guesses onto your captain."
He blew out a breath. "Of course. My apologies, Josie, I didn't express myself very well."
"It's all right. I can see that you're troubled. Do you know Lady Miranda well?"
He shifted forward in the chair and rubbed his hand over his jaw. "Not at all. I've seen her from afar, walking with the king, playing cards with the other ladies, laughing." A ghostly smile touched his lips before setting into a serious line again. "She laughs a lot. It's obvious she enjoys the king's company and he hers."
"You think they'll marry?"
"Not if the ministers have their way."
"Why don't they want him to marry her?"
"Because her family isn't important enough. They want him to make a strategic marriage, not a love match."
"Will he bow to their wishes?"
He lifted one shoulder. "Who know what the king thinks? He keeps his own counsel."
"He doesn't confide in his ministers? Or his trusted servants?"
He hesitated and shifted his feet before finally answering. "He trusts Theodore, Hammer and Balthazar with his life, but not with his secrets. He prefers to meditate on problems of state in his own rooms, alone."