The Palace of Lost Memories: After The Rift, Book 1

by C. J. Archer

  "Even so. Find the taster."

  "Aye, sir."

  I plucked off the bowl's lid and sniffed it. It smelled of game and red wine. I dipped my finger in to the broth.

  "Josie, no." I'd already licked my finger before Hammer finished protesting.

  "It tastes fine," I said. "Delicious, in fact. No earthy aftertaste." I poured a little of the water into the cup but Hammer snatched it off the tray before I could.

  He scowled at me over the rim of the cup as he sniffed the contents. Then he sipped.

  "Well?" I asked as he set the cup down.

  "It's plain water." He directed Hilda to go through to the bedchamber. To me, he said, "You shouldn't have done that." He held the door open for me and nodded at the guard standing in the corridor. I heard Lady Miranda thank Hilda and ask her to send servants up with water to fill the bath.

  "The poisoner would be mad to strike now while you are on his trail and the palace staff are on heightened alert," I said, trying to keep up with Hammer as he strode along the corridor.

  "We can't be certain of that. Perhaps the poisoner is mad. Next time, wait for the taster."

  "That poor man. How did he become royal taster?"

  "I wish I knew." Hammer pushed open the hidden door to the service corridor and allowed me to walk ahead of him. "You're right, Josie. About me not being subtle, that is."

  I smiled. "I didn't say anything."

  "You didn't have to. I saw the laughter in your eyes."

  "I wouldn't dare laugh at you, Captain."

  "Why not?" He sounded put out. "I can see that I don't frighten you."

  "You're serious, that's all. Very serious."

  "There is little to laugh about in this place."

  "Oh, I don't know. I find Quentin quite amusing, and I suspect the only way to cope with Brant's bullish behavior is to laugh at him from time to time."

  He stopped. "Do not laugh at Brant. Is that clear?"

  "Y—yes. Of course. I'm sorry."

  "Don't be. If anyone should apologize, it's Brant." He walked off again, trotting down the service stairs. I raced after him, wondering at the nerve I'd struck.

  "If you don't like him, why do you keep him on your staff?" I asked.

  "It's easier to keep an eye on him if I can see him. Not to mention that a palace servant can't leave. For good or ill, we are bound together by our memory loss. We must stay together until we know what happened to us."

  We headed along the narrow, dimly lit corridors, passing busy maids and footmen. Outside, several servants stood in the breezeway between the buildings, chatting to one another in between performing their duties. Those servants belonging to the noble houses mingled, exchanging news and gossip about their employers, but the palace servants kept to themselves.

  We entered the square building. The smell of roasting meat overwhelmed all other scents, and despite the open doors, it felt warmer than the palace. No wonder the servants chose to remain outside when possible.

  Two maids filled pails from the fountain in a central courtyard, chatting quietly as they did so, while other servants rushed back and forth, carrying out their tasks. A procession of servants rolled barrels across the courtyard, most likely heading to a cellar. We passed a long dining room and several other rooms whose function I could only guess at—sewing and washing, perhaps.

  We headed downstairs to the kitchen basement, a vast space with whitewashed walls and a vaulted ceiling the height of the entire building. We paused inside the door where heat and noise swamped us. There must have been more than a hundred staff at work at the tables or at one of the two yawning fireplaces. The young men turning the roasting handles looked no bigger than children as they stood behind screens that shielded them from the heat, somewhat unsuccessfully by the look of their sweating, red faces. Through a door on the far side, I spotted another kitchen where the activity seemed just as chaotic.

  "Captain!" A stout, middle-aged man hailed Hammer from a long table where he stood looking over the shoulder of a woman kneading dough. "I've already spoken to Max and Brant so let me tell you what I told them. There was no poison in any dish that left my kitchen that night. My staff wouldn't dare."

  Two women exchanged grim looks.

  "Who took up the food?" Hammer asked.

  "I don't know, do I?"

  "Emanuel was senior server that night, sir," one of the women said. "Anton, Alexei, Paul and Victor were the under footmen."

  "Where can I find Emanuel?"

  "I don't know, sir."

  "My staff aren't at your beck and call, Hammer," the cook said.

  "I didn't ask them to be. But let's be clear, finding the poisoner must be everyone's priority, not just mine. Until he or she is brought to justice, every member of the palace household, from the highest visitor to the lowest servant, is under suspicion."

  The cook straightened, extending his protruding stomach further. "Are you threatening me and my staff, Captain?"

  "Informing you. The only person who should feel threatened is the one hiding something from me." He didn't speak loudly or through a clenched jaw, however the captain managed to put steel into his words nevertheless.

  "Get those damned dogs out of here!" the cook suddenly shouted.

  A man dressed in an apron shooed three long-legged dogs out of the kitchen. Hammer and I followed them. With a click of his fingers, the dogs came to Hammer's side, forcing me to walk behind. One dropped back to walk with me. I rubbed its ears and it drew even closer to my legs, almost tripping me. "This one likes attention," I said.

  "They're bored," the captain said over his shoulder. "They're hunting dogs and the king doesn't hunt."

  "Why not?"

  "He's averse to bloodshed. He allows the grand huntsman and his staff to hunt only when it's necessary to supply the kitchens. It's not done for sport, something that the visiting lords are learning. They, like the dogs, are growing bored."

  "Bored lords are never a good thing."

  "So I am learning," he muttered.

  "In what way?"

  He took the stairs two at a time, but realized he was leaving me in his wake and slowed. "In a way that keeps me busy."

  "Sir," hissed a woman from behind us. It was the same kitchen maid who'd given us the names of the serving footmen. "Captain, a word if you please."

  "Go ahead," Hammer said.

  The maid glanced over her shoulder then climbed the steps. She was a solid woman, albeit short, with a masculine jaw that caved in on her left side thanks to a lack of teeth. "I don't think any of our lads poisoned her. I know them all, and they're good men."

  "Good men can be bought," Hammer said.

  She shook her head. "Not when it's more important to them to find out why they're here." She glanced at me. "And to get back what they lost. They wouldn't risk it, sir. Not them."

  The captain nodded.

  "There's more." Another glance at me.

  "Miss Cully can be trusted," Hammer said.

  The maid didn't look too pleased but she didn't insist on speaking to him in private. "Lady Lucia Whippler and Lord Frederick Whippler dined with Lady Miranda that night."

  "And?"

  "That means they're suspects, doesn't it?"

  "Everyone is a suspect."

  Her gaze turned flinty. "Not to me."

  "They're suspects," I told her since Hammer didn't answer. "Why?"

  "I overheard one of the Whippler maids telling a footman from another house something about her young mistress and master. Something I think you should know. Something that might make you see them in a different way." The maid stepped up another step. Hammer moved down to stand beside me. "She said Lady Lucia and her brother, Lord Frederick, are lovers."

  Chapter 6

  "Incest." The kitchen maid licked her lips and her eyes flared. "What say you to that, Captain?"

  "Did you overhear anything else?" Hammer asked.

  "Lady Lucia's maid also says Lord Frederick gets jealous of any man th
at takes an interest in his sister."

  "Such as the king?"

  "Aye. They even argued about it. Lord Frederick didn't like her flirting with him. He went into a jealous rage."

  Hammer stiffened. "Did he hurt her?"

  "She calmed him down." The woman chuckled, revealing the bare gums on the left side of her mouth. "You can probably guess how, eh?"

  "Thank you for the information," Hammer said. "Let me know if you hear anything further."

  She returned downstairs while we continued up. Hammer left a message at a small office with the senior footman to send the men who'd served dinner to him when they were free. Then we headed out of the commons and back toward the service entrance of the palace. The dogs had run off and were nowhere to be seen.

  "What do you think of the information about Lord Frederick and Lady Lucia?" I asked him.

  "Interesting."

  "Is that all? It's rather shocking." When I caught him watching me, I added, "Incest is not normal or accepted in Glancia, if that's what you're wondering."

  "The fact is, it exonerates Lord Frederick rather than condemns him. He'd want to encourage Lady Miranda in her pursuit of the king, not get rid of her to make way for his sister."

  "True. Perhaps that's what we need to do—eliminate one diner at a time."

  "And how do you propose I do that?"

  "With my help, of course, and that of the palace servants."

  He frowned. "Go on."

  "We need to listen to more gossip. Gossip has already taught us something about the Whipplers, so now we need to find out what we can about the others. It may help us create a broader picture of our suspects."

  "Our suspects?"

  "Let's discuss the plan in the garrison."

  We didn't reach the garrison. A footman stopped us on the stairs and informed us that my father was with Lady Miranda. We changed course and headed to her rooms instead.

  Lady Miranda's apartments were rather crowded. The king had learned of her recovery despite her hope for some time to herself first, and he waited in the sitting room along with the Claypools, Theodore, a guard and Hilda. I bobbed an awkward curtsy for the king, who watched with an amused gleam in his eyes. He seemed in good spirits.

  "Doctor Cully asked you to go through when you arrived, Josie," Hilda said.

  I knocked lightly on the bedchamber door then entered. My father stood by the bed, packing away his instruments. Lady Miranda sat propped up against the pillows, looking fresher after her bath. She was extremely beautiful with her long golden hair, dark lashes framing large eyes, and unblemished skin. She had the sort of ethereal beauty that sensitive men wrote poems in honor of, and masculine men fought over. I couldn't stop staring.

  She greeted me with a smile. "Here she is," she said to my father. "I knew she wouldn't be far. She's looked after me so well while I've been ill. I'm so grateful to her, and to you for allowing her to stay with me, Doctor."

  She was being rather too effusive, considering I'd not stayed with her the entire time. I eyed her carefully and she winked.

  "Where have you been, Josie?" my father asked.

  "In the service commons with the captain, trying to find out who may have poisoned Lady Miranda."

  "The captain is capable of doing that alone. Why did he endanger you unnecessarily?"

  "I…because of my medical knowledge. He needed me to ask if anyone had experienced any symptoms similar to Lady Miranda's."

  From his scowl, I knew he didn't believe me, but he didn't press me further. "You seem to have fully recovered, my lady, with no ill effects." he said. "You should remain abed until tomorrow, but if you feel well enough to go outside, then the fresh air will do you good. I'll return tomorrow at midday to check on your progress."

  "Send your daughter instead," Lady Miranda said in a tone that invited no disagreement. "I enjoy her company."

  "If that is your wish," Father said with a slight bow. He picked up his bag and beckoned me to follow.

  I trailed after him to the sitting room where the king looked past him toward the bedchamber.

  "Well?" His Majesty prompted. "How is she?"

  "Much better, sire," Father said. "The poison has been purged from her body but it has left her weak. While she isn't in danger from the poison, she needs time and rest to regain her full strength. Her prior good health means her recovery will be swifter than most. She's very fortunate. If she hadn't taken the antidote when she did, she would not be with us now."

  Lady Claypool covered her mouth with her handkerchief and turned into her husband's chest. He gently rubbed her back.

  "I am very grateful to you, Doctor," the king said. "Theodore will give you something for your troubles before you go. Now." He clapped his hands and beamed. "I think this calls for a celebration."

  "Sire?" Lord Claypool pressed.

  "An entertainment with music, dancing and wine. A bright and amusing event the likes of which this palace has never seen before. Something extraordinary, just as the Lady Miranda is extraordinarily beautiful. Theodore?"

  "Yes, sire?"

  "Send Balthazar to the Sky Salon to discuss arrangements. I'll meet with him shortly after I've spoken to Lady Miranda."

  Theodore hesitated.

  "What is it?" the king snapped.

  "You're meeting with the ministers in the council room in ten minutes."

  The king flicked his hand in a dismissive wave. "They can wait. Celebrating Lady Miranda's recovery is more important."

  Theodore bowed. "Yes, sire. I'll inform Balthazar."

  The king dismissed all of us, including the Claypools, and we left the apartments. In the corridor, Theodore gave my father a bulging pouch and Lord Claypool fetched another from his pocket.

  "No, my lord," Theodore said. "It is His Majesty's honor and privilege to reward Doctor Cully. Lady Miranda's illness occurred under his roof, after all."

  Lord Claypool's gaze flicked to the gilded ceiling rosette as if inspecting the roof in question. He re-pocketed his money. "I will not forget the service you have done my family, Doctor. You or your daughter. Lady Claypool and I are eternally grateful."

  A door further along the corridor opened and a lady dressed in a voluminous lilac colored gown emerged. She beamed at us. "I thought I heard voices. Are the rumors to be believed? Is darling, sweet Miranda going to be all right?"

  "Yes, your grace," Lady Claypool said.

  It would seem this was the duchess of Gladstow, wife of the duke of Gladstow, one of the highest nobles in Glancia. "That is good news." The duchess took Lady Claypool's hands and continued to smile brightly. She was pretty and much younger than I expected, perhaps only my age. "We've been so worried! And do call me Kitty. Everyone does. When can we expect to see Miranda up and about?"

  "Soon," Lady Claypool said.

  "How we've missed her in the salons."

  "Oh? I didn't realize you were friends."

  The sapphires and diamonds in the duchess's rings caught the light as she clasped Lady Claypool's elbow. If she wore such jewelry during the day, what did she save for the evening? "We are set to become very close, I am sure of it. She is awfully pretty and young, and I know I can be of help to her as she finds her way at court as, shall we say, a very important lady."

  "You presume too much too soon," Lord Claypool said carefully. "Miranda has only been here a week."

  "Love is instant. When it shoots true, it shoots with accuracy. The arrow of love, that is. You know what I mean." She giggled. "What I'm saying so badly is that one only needs to see the way the king looks at her to know she is his favorite."

  A gentleman emerged through the same door and stopped short when he spotted the Claypools. "Kitty," he barked. "Come."

  The duchess's smile slipped. "Husband, I was just talking to the Claypools about the health of Lady Miranda. She's better. Isn't that marvelous?"

  "Marvelous," he droned. He was considerably older than his wife, with the florid complexion of a man who drank too muc
h. His doctor ought to warn him of the dangers of excess.

  "Your grace," Lady Claypool said in greeting. "How nice to see you again after all these years."

  The duke's broad, fat lips pursed as his gaze grazed her from head to toe, lingering on her face, still quite youthful considering the age she must be to have a daughter of eighteen. Beside her, Lord Claypool stiffened. He put his hand at his wife's back and she sidled closer to him.

  "Yes," was all the duke said.

  "How many years has it been?" Lady Claypool asked.

  "Twenty-two."

  "That long? I've lost track of time." She attempted a warm smile but it wilted when it wasn't returned.

  The duke sniffed and turned away. "Come, Kitty. You cannot tarry here. You have important people to talk to."

  "I do?" the duchess said. "Who?"

  "The duchess of Buxton, for one."

  The duchess wrinkled her nose. "She's so tedious. All she wants to do is talk about her children."

  "She is an appropriate companion for you. Come, Kitty."

  "Yes, Husband." The duchess didn't follow him immediately but addressed Lady Claypool. "Do see that Miranda rejoins society soon so that we once again have the pleasure of seeing her pretty face. I know Lady Violette Morgrave took a particular liking to her and is desolated by her absence."

  She trailed after her husband. Lady Claypool took Lord Claypool's arm and headed in the other direction, her head high. I walked with Hammer and my father through the hidden door and into the maze of service corridors and stairs, mulling over the conversation between the illustrious ducal couple and the Claypools. While the duchess seemed interested in becoming better acquainted, the duke certainly didn't. Whatever the reason behind the rift, it had likely happened before she married the duke and he hadn't informed her of it.

  "I'll need you to assist me when we get home, Josie," Father said as we exited the main palace building opposite the service commons.

  "I won't be returning with you just yet," I said. "There's work to do here."

  He rounded on me. "Your work is with me, in the village, not here. Not with these…" He glanced at the captain as he addressed one of his guards. "Our patients need you, Josie."