by C. J. Archer
"But—"
"It's not up for discussion. Captain, a carriage if you please."
The captain sent his guard to fetch us transport. "I hope I haven't caused a problem by asking Josie to assist with my investigation," he said to my father. "I thought her knowledge of the poisons would help."
"She has no knowledge of poisons."
"I know a little about direweed, thank you," I snipped off.
"You strike me as a very capable man, Captain," my father said, ignoring me. "I'm sure you need her less than our patients do."
"All the pregnancies in the village are progressing smoothly," I said hotly. "I am not scheduled to see any of the expectant mothers today. Unless you wish me to attend some of your patients in your stead then I have nothing to do but mix up some medicines, something which you are quite equipped to do yourself."
My father's lips moved and I waited for the explosion of temper I knew to be brewing. He may not exhibit his temper often, but when he did, it was spectacular and I usually did everything in my power to diffuse it or run for cover. But I didn't want to diffuse it this time or run away. I wanted to battle it out with him.
"Thank you for your assistance this morning, Josie," the captain said before my father spoke. "But I can manage from here."
I wanted to throttle him for backing down and denying me the argument with my father. "I'll return tomorrow," I told him—them both. "Lady Miranda has expressly asked me to look in on her."
"And I have given my permission," my father said. "Tomorrow. For a brief time only." He walked off, expecting me to follow.
I sighed.
"Will he punish you for helping me?" the captain asked.
"He'll make me sit with him during his appointments and take copious notes which he'll then make me write out again and perhaps test me on later."
"You're smiling," he said, almost smiling himself.
"He calls it punishment, but I like doing it. I like to learn."
"I see I don't have to worry about you." He nodded over my head. "He's waiting. You'd better go."
I caught up to my father and we rounded the long pavilion together. He still looked cross, and I didn't particularly feel like forgiving him yet, but by the time we reached the guard waiting by a carriage on the grand forecourt, my own temper had cooled. Father was simply worried about me. I was luckier than most to have a father who indulged his daughter by allowing her to work for him. Most of my friends were already married, and not always to a man of their choice.
A footman opened the door while another assisted me then my father into the carriage.
"There are an awful lot of staff here, have you noticed?" I said as the door closed on us.
"Don't change the subject, Josie."
"I wasn't aware we were discussing something else."
"Stop being petulant. You know very well I gave you strict instructions to remain with Lady Miranda all night and this morning, yet you wandered off around the palace with the captain. Who knows what might have happened!"
"Nothing, that's what. For goodness’ sake, Father, the poisoner is after Lady Miranda, not me, and the captain has the utmost respect from everyone. He's one of the king's trusted friends."
He snorted. "Kings don't have friends."
This conversation would get us nowhere except in a mire of pettiness. If I wanted to change the subject, I had to engage his intellect. "I learned something interesting last night. Something Sergeant Brant discussed with you yesterday."
"You mean the memory loss? Come now, Josie, you don't believe him, surely."
"I do."
"It's impossible. There must be hundreds of servants at the palace. They can't all have lost their memory at the same time."
"A thousand servants actually, and why couldn't they?"
"Because I've never heard anything like it."
"That doesn't make it impossible, just improbable. Besides, you seem to believe in magic. Why couldn't that explain the memory loss?"
"It could." He circled his arms around the medical bag on his lap. "All the more reason for you not to wander about the palace. I told you before, there's something…wrong about it."
"Yes! Everyone has lost their memory!" I leaned forward and rested my hand on his arm. "Can you not think of any non-magical reason for it? A poisonous air, perhaps, or tainted water?"
He shook his head. "Not unless they were all hit on the head on the same day." He regarded me levelly and I was pleased to see that his anger had faded. "You really do believe them?" he asked.
"Why would they lie?"
He remained silent for the remainder of the journey. He went directly to his workroom when we arrived home while I found half a fish pie in the pantry and sliced it up for our midday meal. We ate in silence at the kitchen table, each of us reading medical texts, searching for any reference to memory loss. We only stopped because his first afternoon appointment arrived.
"Keep looking," he said to me as he rose to answer the door.
"What about mixing up the medicines? Or helping you in the workroom?"
"This is more important." He indicated the stack of books he'd piled at the end of the table. Some of them were ancient, their yellowing pages held together with thin leather strips. Those ones had no covers and were stored in boxes. I removed one and drew the smell of old paper into my lungs. These were my favorites, but I hadn't looked at them in years. I did know that they held no information about memory loss. None of the books did, but I indulged my father anyway and spent the afternoon re-reading several chapters.
"There's nothing in here," I announced when he joined me at the end of the day.
He rubbed his lower back and sat with a groan. "Fetch me something to drink, will you, Josie."
I filled a cup from the keg of ale stored in the larder and tackled the topic again. "What do we do now? Should we write to the college in Logios?"
"Merdu, no." He sipped the ale and sat back with another groan. "We'll leave the college out of this. They'll laugh at us."
"Or they might check the books we don't have access to."
"Their books won't contain anything about memory loss like this."
"Why not?"
He eyed me over the cup. "You know why."
"Magic," I said on a breath. I had no counter argument to that. As much as I thought him mad for suggesting it, how could I prove him wrong? "Why do you think magic is real? It can't simply be because you met people who believe. I know you. You require evidence, something you can see and touch, not blind belief. You won't even pray to Merdu or Hailia, yet you think the palace is magical."
"What other explanation is there for its existence? Now, no more questions."
"Just one. What do we do now?"
"We do nothing, and you are to stay away from the palace."
"I can't."
"Tomorrow is your final visit." He slammed the cup on the table. "Is that understood? You will check Lady Miranda then leave immediately. There's no need for you to linger."
Not unless she wished me to, and I was going to make certain that she did. "We still have to help find the poisoner."
"No we do not. It's a palace matter."
"But the poisoner most likely bought the poisons here in the village. We can help Captain Hammer find out who sold it."
"He doesn't need our help. He can ask the same questions as you or I."
"He has no knowledge of poisons. We do."
"I do. You are a novice when it comes to poisons."
I bristled. "Why are you being so difficult about this? Why are you refusing to help? Lady Miranda almost died. It's our duty to help if we can."
He drained his cup and slammed it down on the table, ending the conversation.
I tidied up then took stock of the larder. While we had all the medicines we needed for now, and the ingredients to make up more, we were woefully short on food.
"I have to go out," I said. "We only have a little cheese and nothing for tomorrow."
&n
bsp; "It's late," he grumbled from where he sat at the table, nursing another full cup of ale. "The market's closed."
"The fishermen will still be around. Why don't we have some fresh cray? We have the money for it after the king's payment."
"That should be saved."
"For what?"
He inspected the bottom of his ale. "For after I am gone," he said quietly.
I closed my eyes and appealed to Hailia for strength. When Father became morose, he could stay that way for hours. It required a delicate touch to navigate him out of it.
"You won't die for years yet." I kissed the top of his head. "You're far too stubborn."
He smiled without humor. "Very well. Cray it is. Be home before dark."
Be home before dark—it was a common phrase now, not only spoken by my father but by parents all over the village. Before the Rift, Mull's main crime had been smuggling, as with all the villages dotted along the Glancia coastline. With the influx of trade and people, mostly men, after the Rift cut off The Thumb from the mainland, Mull had become more dangerous, particularly at night. Sailors and dockworkers spent their money at the taverns then went in search of entertainment on their way home or back to their moored ships. Boredom and drunkenness were never a good combination.
I headed out with my basket into the long afternoon shadows. I thought about asking Meg to join me but she would be helping her mother to prepare supper at this time of day. Besides, she wouldn't want me to detour from my task to question the spice traders, and I wasn't up for another lecture so soon after my father's.
The market was closed so I called on Tamworth Tao at his small cottage. Originally from Zemaya, he now made his home in Mull but traveled extensively to source the herbs and spices he sold at his market stall. When he was away, the eldest of his five children took over with help from younger siblings. Tam's wife, a Glancia woman, was rarely seen around the village.
"I'm sorry to call on you so late," I said to Tam when he met me at the door. "I want to ask you about direweed and traitor's ease."
His gaze darted up and down the street. "I have already answered Captain Hammer's questions," he whispered.
"Yes, but I'm not sure he asked the right questions."
"He wanted to know if I sell those poisons. I told him I sell direweed to kill rats."
"And traitor's ease?"
He jerked his head and his plaited ponytail flicked off his shoulder. The small bells tinkled musically. "I do not sell it."
"Do you know who does?"
"No." He glanced up and down the street again. "You should go, Josie. Let the captain ask his questions."
"Just one more. What does traitor's ease look like?"
"A small yellow flower with a red center, but it is the root that's poisonous. It grows in warm, damp parts of Zemaya. It is rare. I do not have it. Now, please, I must go and so must you."
He went to close the door but I wedged my basket into the gap. "I think you know who sells it, Tam."
His dark eyes widened and his gaze once again darted around. "Hush, Josie."
"You're afraid of someone seeing me talking to you. Who? And why?"
"The poison seller, that is who, because your father is known to have attended the poisoned lady at the palace. It is also known that he identified the poisons and made an antidote."
"So?"
"So the poisoner will fear the guards coming for him now. Your father told the captain about traitor's ease, and the poisoner did not expect him to know about it. And if he did not expect then the poison seller did not expect either."
"That doesn't explain why you're afraid to be seen talking to me now, Tam."
"Everyone knows I supply your father for his medicines. That is a link between us." His gaze flicked past me to the street. "I cannot be sure but…but I feel as though I am being watched."
"If you're being watched, it means someone thinks you can identify the poison seller."
He gripped the door and swallowed heavily.
"You can either tell me or you can tell the captain that you lied to him," I said.
"I did not lie," he spat. "I do not know who has traitor's ease."
"But you can guess. Can't you?"
He muttered something in Zemayan. "Why will you not give up, Josie?"
"A lady nearly died, Tam. She's innocent and kind. It would be wrong of me to look the other way when I can help prevent another poisoning. It would be wrong of you too." I removed my basket from the doorway. "Do not expect our business anymore. We'll go elsewhere for our supplies." I turned to go.
"Wait, Josie. Do not do that. You are my best customer." He sucked in a breath between his teeth. "I will tell you all I know. It is not much." He once again scanned the street. "Last week, I waited at the pier for the ship that brings my supplies. I see another Zemayan, like me." He smoothed the plaited hair of his ponytail over his shoulder. "We talk and I learn that he is waiting for the same ship, bringing supplies from our homeland. When the ship's rowboat docks, we help the sailors unload the parcels onto the pier. Each is labeled with a name and the contents inside, for the customs officer to see."
"You saw the other Zemayan's name on a label?"
"A name was written in my language. Translated, it means No One."
"Very suspicious."
"What is more, one parcel does not feel right. The label says Powdered Crabtree Bark but the parcel is too heavy and hard for powder. The Zemayan claimed it, and other parcels too."
"Did the customs officer open the parcel and check the contents?"
"No. Customs are very busy. There is so much for them to do now and not enough officers. They cannot check everything. Even if they did and this man smuggled in traitor's ease roots inside the powder, would the officer know? I do not think so."
"What else can you tell me about your mysterious countryman, Tam?"
"Nothing. I have not seen him before or since. If he is wise, he has already left Mull."
I had to hope not. He was the only link to the poisoner. "Thank you, Tam. I appreciate you talking to me."
"Do not tell anyone I tell you this. And do not tell the captain I lied to him."
"You don't need to fear him. He won't seek retribution for it."
"There is magic in that palace, in him. Powerful magic. Do not assume to know what magic thinks." He shut the door in my face.
Well, that was an odd encounter. Tam was always so friendly toward my father and me, never rude. As he said, we were his best customers. If not for that, he wouldn't have told me anything about the Zemayan at the pier. This behavior was most unlike him. Fear changed people.
I settled the basket in the crook of my elbow and headed eastward. The briny scent of the bay grew stronger as I turned the corner and I could hear the gulls calling, although I couldn't yet see them. Tam's words rang in my ears, none more so than his suspicion that he was being watched. Surely he was mistaken. That brief encounter with a stranger at the pier shouldn't have triggered alarm in the man known only as No One.
Perhaps it hadn't at the time. Perhaps it wasn't until after my father's involvement in Lady Miranda's recovery that the poison seller had begun to worry that Tam might be asked to identify him. I hoped me talking to Tam wouldn't seem suspicious.
I quickened my step. At the corner, I checked behind me. A man stood well back, leaning against a wall as if he'd been there the entire time. But he had not. I'd passed that building only moments before.
I took a few more steps before once again checking over my shoulder. The man followed. Merdu!
Fortunately I came to the end of the street and the open space of the harbor concourse. The builders had finished for the day but their voices could still be heard spilling out of the Anchor and the more disreputable tavern, The Mermaid's Tail. The harbor itself seemed eerily quiet. The cranes cast shadowy fingers over the water, and crates and carts had been locked up in the warehouses. There were few people about.
I glanced behind me again but the man was
no longer there. I hurried along one of the piers, past small boats waiting for a crew to row them back to the watchful mother ships in deeper water. Gulls circled the masts of the fishing boats moored at the pier's end. When one of the seamen tossed a fish into the air, the gulls dove for it then squawked in protest when the biggest caught it and flew off. It was the sound of my childhood. My mother used to bring me here when the fishermen returned. Of course, she would arrive much earlier to choose the best of the catch. I might need to fight off the gulls for the smaller fish.
"Good afternoon, Gill," I said.
"Josie!" Gill Swinson looked up from the crate of dead fish he'd been about to pick up, and removed his cap. His deep wrinkles folded into a pattern etched by fifty years at sea. "How is my favorite healer?"
"I'll tell my father you said that." I grinned. "Is there anything left? A cray?"
"It's late for marketing."
"All our crayfish are sold," his son called out from where he emerged from the nets at the back of the boat. "Sorry, Josie. I hear you spent the night at the palace. What was that like?"
"Not as interesting as you'd think. I only got to see the service area and Lady Miranda Claypool's rooms."
"She the one that got poisoned?"
I nodded.
"Terrible business, that," Gill said. "Imagine a poisoner at the palace, eh?"
"And who knows what else," his son said. At my questioning look, he added, "I hear the servants are a strange lot. They keep to themselves. One of the Deerhorn maids reckons they won't say where they came from."
"I found them quite friendly." I sounded a little snippy so softened it with a smile. "You can take it from me, the palace and its servants are not at all strange. Nor is the king."
"You met him?"
I described the king and palace to them. When I finished, Gill gave me a crayfish from another crate. "Take this for your troubles. Only one ell."
I smiled and held out my basket. He deposited the cray inside and I paid him.
"That was meant for the palace," his son whined.
"Josie is the king's healer," Gill told him.
"Do not say that to my father," I said in all seriousness. "One other thing. I have a question for you both. Have you ever seen a Zemayan here, aside from Tam Tao?"