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

by C. J. Archer

  "Of course," I said, curtseying again.

  He smiled. "Good." He went to walk off, but stopped. "Oh, Miss Cully, I am very sorry about your father."

  "Thank you, Your Majesty." He'd turned away before I finished speaking.

  Hammer watched him go with a glare so icy I thought the king might shiver.

  "Captain?" Max asked. "Your orders?" How curious that he didn't follow the king's orders without question, but waited for his captain's.

  "Make sure you escort her inside," Hammer said. "Check the entire house before you go."

  "Please do," I said, batting my lashes. "I don't think we have rats, but it's always good to be thorough, and it'll make me feel so much better to have a man as strong as an ox to protect me from them."

  Both men stared at me. "Is she teasing us?" Max asked Hammer.

  "Yes," Hammer said.

  "Did we deserve it?"

  "I have no idea but I think if we ignore her, she'll stop."

  Max frowned at his captain. "I can't ignore her. I have to take her home."

  Hammer's short laugh came from the depths of his chest, and caused Max's frown to deepen. Hammer clapped his sergeant on the shoulder then joined the king.

  Max offered to take my pack and we were about to walk off when Miranda broke away from the group.

  "Josie," she said, clasping my hand in both of hers. "I overheard the exchange. I wasn't aware of your father's passing. I am deeply sorry for your loss." The shine in her eyes produced a response from my own and tears welled again. "I owe him my life. If there's anything I can do for you, please just ask."

  "Thank you, my lady."

  "Miranda, remember?" She smiled then kissed my cheek. She smelled of spring flowers. I hoped I didn't smell of Baby's Breath salts and Lady Lucia's urine.

  She rejoined the king and they walked slowly toward the palace's main entrance to reach the formal gardens on the other side. Lady Violette Morgrave walked on his left, laughing at something he said. Behind them, Hammer kept pace and behind him, several more nobles followed. It was quite the procession.

  Max sent one of the guards roaming the forecourt to organize transport for me. The guard passed Quentin coming through the front gate with two others. Quentin spotted us and grinned. Then his grin vanished.

  He hugged me wordlessly. I felt his sob ripple through his body. "Don't cry," I said, patting his back. "Or you'll make me cry too."

  He pulled away and swiped at his cheeks with the back of his hand. "Sorry," he choked out. "I'm so sorry, Josie."

  I drew him into another hug and he clung to me until Max coughed.

  "Compose yourself, man," Max barked. "You're a palace guard. Have some respect for your uniform."

  "Yes, sir." Quentin nodded and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

  "You're no better than a little girl," said Sergeant Brant, joining us with Erik. They must have all been on duty outside, but none seemed to be particularly keen to resume patrolling.

  Erik clasped my shoulder. "My heart broke for you, Josie."

  "Thank you, Erik."

  "We were all sorry to hear of Doctor Cully's passing," Max said simply if somewhat awkwardly. "Men, you have work to do. I suggest you do it."

  "There's nothing to do," Quentin said with a lift of his shoulders.

  "The point of patrolling isn't to be doing anything, it's to be seen. Our presence reassures people, particularly now that it's getting dark."

  Quentin looked around and spread his arms out. "We are seen."

  "His presence won't reassure anyone," Brant said with a snort. "Come on, Erik, some of us don't shirk out duties."

  "What is shirk?" Erik asked.

  "Can't I stay here and talk to Josie?" Quentin whined as they walked off.

  "Josie's leaving," Max said. "I'm escorting her home. She's living alone now and shouldn't be entering an empty house after dark."

  Brant and Erik returned, causing Max to mutter under his breath. "Alone?" Erik asked. "You have no family, Josie?"

  "None," I said. "But it's quite all right. I'm well known in Mull. No one will harm me."

  "Even so," Max said.

  "You and the captain both seem to forget that babies have no concept of day or night. They arrive when they want to arrive—and rarely to a schedule. I will have to leave the house at night if required."

  From the look on Max's face, he hadn't thought of that. He cast a glance at the palace's main entrance through which Hammer had just disappeared.

  "I'll take her home," Quentin piped up.

  "And get out of standing on your feet all night?" Brant grabbed my pack off Max. "I'll do it."

  Max snatched it back. "You're on patrol."

  Brant drew himself up to his full height. He towered over Max. "You don't outrank me."

  Max grabbed my arm and marched me away. He didn't stop until we were outside the palace gates. Finally he let me go and looked back to the forecourt. The other guards had dispersed.

  I let out a breath, not quite sure why I'd been holding it. "Thank you, Max. I don't want Brant taking me home. I can't explain why, there's just something about him I don't like."

  "I didn't do it for you, I did it for me. Hammer doesn't like Brant either, and he'd tear me to shreds if I let you go home with him."

  "Why doesn't he like Brant?"

  The carriage rolled up and Max never did answer me.

  I spent the following morning checking on the two expectant mothers closest to their due date then returned home via the market. The money from my previous day's visit to the palace bought enough food to last several days, but there was little left over. I resolved to spend the afternoon searching for the savings my father always spoke about.

  My plans changed when I arrived home to see a palace carriage waiting at the front of my house and Erik giving one of my neighbor's children a ride on his shoulders. The girl squealed with delight and clung to his thick ropes of hair as if they were reins.

  "Perhaps you should be working in the schoolroom, not the garrison," I said, smiling.

  He crouched and the girl slid down his back to the ground. "Good horsey," she said, tugging his hair then running off to her mother, who scowled in the doorway.

  "The mother is angry," he said heavily.

  "She's probably a little worried about you. She wouldn't have seen a Marginer before, and you're very big."

  "Big is not scary."

  "Are you sure? Have you never met anyone bigger than yourself?"

  "I do not know."

  "Oh. Right. You don't remember. Sorry." I indicated the carriage. "Is everything all right at the palace?"

  "A dog is dead."

  I wasn't sure if I'd heard him correctly and asked him to repeat it. He placed his hands in front of him like paws, stuck out his tongue, and panted. He followed up the pantomime with a bark. I hadn't misheard then. "Come, Josie. Come to palace."

  "But why? If the dog has already died, what can I do?"

  He glanced at the coachman, perched on the driver's seat. "Check for poison," he whispered.

  I hadn't thought of that. "I see. Let me get some things first." I exchanged my pack for my father's medical bag and rejoined Erik at the door where he waited. "Did the captain insist I come?"

  He nodded. "He tells king it is best. The king agrees."

  "Does Doctor Clegg know?"

  He nodded at my neighbor's door. "He looked like her when Theodore tell him king wants poison expert."

  Hopefully since it was a dog and not a person, I couldn't be fined for giving medical advice. I wasn't entirely sure of the extent of the law. If the king sent for me, then I ought to be safe, the dog notwithstanding.

  Instead of taking me to the palace gate, the carriage stopped at the stables on the long approach road. Erik ushered me through the colonnaded entrance. I hardly had time to take in the high vaulted ceiling and what appeared to be a large indoor arena when we were once again outside. Erik strode across the courtyard, unconcerned by the dozens of
horses being put through their paces under the watchful eye of the stable staff. I hugged the bag to my chest and followed.

  The building on the far side of the courtyard housed individual stalls, most of them occupied. The smell of horse was stronger, as well as an undercurrent of leather. The staff wore the dun colored uniforms befitting outdoor servants, all with the House of Lockhart coat of arms embroidered onto the chest.

  "Is it much further?" I asked Erik. "Only this bag is growing heavy." We must have passed a hundred stalls already, all housing more than one horse, and we'd not even traveled half the length of the building. If the buildings on the east and west of the courtyard also contained stables, I calculated close to a thousand horses.

  Erik took the bag from me then continued on until he reached the last stall. A guard on duty by the door nodded at Erik then left. Erik pushed open the door and set my bag down beside the body of the dog. It was one of the hunters I'd seen in the kitchen.

  "Did he die here?" I asked.

  Erik remained by the door, his steady gaze on the corridor, his stance evenly weighted. He was standing guard, I realized. "Commons courtyard," he said.

  Near the kitchen then. "Did he ingest anything?"

  "Ingest?"

  "Eat or drink?"

  "I do not know."

  I knelt by the animal and opened its jaw. The stench of vomit tumbled out along with the regurgitated contents of its last meal. I buried my nose and mouth in my elbow, drew in a breath, and resumed my task. Beneath the smell was another familiar one. It was sweet. Too sweet.

  I knew where I'd smelled it before.

  I fell back and gasped for air, but that only filled my nostrils with a riot of odors. I scrambled to my feet and raced past Erik to a door that led out to the training courtyard. I sucked in several deep breaths, preferring the smell of dung over the stink of vomit and poison.

  "Josie?" I recognized Hammer's voice and looked to see him and Quentin striding toward me. "Josie, are you unwell?"

  I put a hand to my rapidly beating chest. It felt tight, my face hot. I nodded to reassure him but couldn't yet form the words to speak.

  Hammer's face appeared before mine, very close. He peered into my eyes and pushed back the hair from my forehead. His action was gentle but his hands were rough from the calluses.

  "You're flushed," he said. "Quentin, fetch a cup of water and a damp cloth. Erik, return to your post."

  I closed my eyes as they ran off and concentrated on my breathing instead of the captain's worried eyes. A firm hand gripped my elbow and an arm circled my waist.

  "Sit down out of the sun." Hammer directed me to a bench under the eaves and crouched before me. "You shouldn't have come if you're unwell."

  "I'm not unwell."

  Quentin returned and handed me a cup of water. I drank it all. "Erik said you ran out of the stall," he said. "Do you feel sick?"

  Hammer took the cloth from him and sat beside me. He pressed the cloth to my forehead then against the back of my neck. It was blessedly cool. Neither man pressed me for an explanation, but the worry did not leave their faces.

  "I did feel sick," I told them, "but not from an illness. The smell coming from that dog's mouth…"

  "Was vile?" Quentin filled in.

  "Familiar. I noticed it in my father's room the day he died."

  Silence. Then Quentin swore.

  The pressure of the cloth on my neck eased. I lifted my gaze to Hammer's. His eyes were huge. I'd managed to shock him.

  "You think he was poisoned?" he asked.

  I nodded. "I'm certain of it."

  Chapter 12

  "Did you find evidence of poisoning on your father's body?" Hammer asked.

  I shook my head. The dog and Lady Miranda vomited, but there was no sign of discharge from my father's mouth or nose, yet the smell couldn't be mistaken. "The poisoner must have cleaned up."

  "To make it look like he died of natural causes," Quentin said with a nod. "Clever."

  "And Lady Miranda?" Hammer asked. "Did you smell the same smell on her?"

  "No," I said. "It's possible that by the time we reached her, the smell had dissipated since the discharge had been removed to the bathroom. Or a different poison may have been used on her."

  "I don't understand," Quentin said. "Why did the poisoner kill your father? He didn't know the murderer's identity."

  I tried to think of the things my father said on the day of his death, what he'd done and where'd he gone, but I could think of nothing that implied he knew the poisoner's identity.

  "Describe the room to me when you found him," Hammer said. "How did you find him? Was anything out of place?"

  I could hardly recall any of it beyond my shock and sadness. "He was slumped over his desk. There were some books within his reach, but I didn't notice which ones." I closed my eyes against the rush of tears and fought not to cry. It was not the time for tears, it was the time for clear thought. It didn't help my concentration when Hammer folded my hand into his.

  "Take your time," he said, his warm voice washing over me.

  "The heat box was nearby. I remember because I worried about his hair burning. The contents of a dish had burned and the smell lingered. It almost hid the smell of the…of the poison."

  "Do you remember putting away the books?" Hammer asked. "Could you find them again?"

  "My neighbor tidied up."

  "I'd put money on them being books about poisons," Quentin said. "Seems like Doctor Cully knew he'd been poisoned and was trying to make an antidote for himself."

  "But ran out of time," I finished for him. "Merdu. I cannot believe it. My father was poisoned. But why?"

  "He must have learned something that could identify the poisoner," Hammer said. "Did he act differently that day? Did he seem anxious?"

  "He was always anxious lately, but even more so after Lady Miranda was poisoned." I blinked watery eyes at him. "He knew even then, didn't he? He knew who poisoned her but he didn't say. Why wouldn't he tell you?"

  "Perhaps he only suspected and didn't want to accuse anyone without proof."

  "Even so, he should have mentioned his concerns to you. I cannot believe he would withhold something so important."

  "He had a daughter to protect, and a livelihood. He wouldn't want to jeopardize either for people he didn't know."

  I thought back to the day I'd gone out to meet Hammer at Half Moon Cove, and come back to find my father dead. The strangeness of that day was etched into my soul, a memory that would be with me forever. I'd been happy seeing Hammer on the beach, and sickened by the scars on his back, then overwhelmed by immense sorrow upon finding my father. It was difficult to wade through the tumult of emotions to remember the conversations I'd shared with Father.

  "He went out that afternoon," I said. "That I do remember. He didn't take his medical bag and wouldn't tell me where he was going."

  "You think he confronted the killer?" Quentin asked.

  "It doesn't seem like something he would do. He was a cautious man, full of fear." With good reason, it would seem. "His heart had been bothering him, but now…I wonder if that was a clue as to the type of poison that was used on him." A small sob escaped and I lowered my head. "It would mean he'd been poisoned more than once, or perhaps that it was slow acting." I wish I knew more. I felt woefully unqualified.

  Hammer put his arm around me and drew me into a hug, his chin resting on the top of my head, his thigh against mine. The only man I'd been this close to before was my father. It should have been thrilling and exciting, but I simply felt comfortable.

  "Captain," came a raspy, deep voice. "I need that stall."

  Hammer's arm retreated and he stood to address a man with a pointed gray beard and ginger hair. Quentin took his place on the seat beside me.

  "Grand equerry," he whispered. "He's in charge of the stables."

  "You'll have the stall back soon," Hammer said to the grand equerry. "Miss Cully, do you need to look at the body again?"

&n
bsp; "I want to collect samples of the discharge," I said rising.

  He nodded. The grand equerry wrinkled his nose. "Why? What's this about?"

  "Your stall will be available again soon," Hammer told him. "Miss Cully, if you please."

  I walked with him back inside, Quentin following.

  "You're going to test the discharge?" Hammer asked me as we approached Erik on guard by the stall.

  "I'd like to create an antidote for the poison in case the poisoner uses it again. To do that, I need to identify the type of poison first. It could take some time though, without Father's guidance."

  "I'll help," Quentin piped up. "I can leave with her now and act as her escort, Captain."

  "You will not be her escort," Hammer said. "I will."

  Erik smirked at Quentin.

  "You can assist Josie with her tests this afternoon," Hammer went on.

  "Ha!" Quentin barked in Erik's direction.

  "You only help her because you are not good guard, like me," Erik said.

  Quentin flicked dust off Erik's sleeve and smiled up at the Marginer. "Or because I am not going to worry Josie's neighbors when I'm left alone with her."

  Erik frowned. "I do not frighten all." He tapped his chest. "Not when I am horsey."

  "Horsey? Have you lost your mind as well as your memory?"

  I used a knife to scrape some of the contents from the dog's mouth into a jar. Hopefully it would be enough.

  Hammer signaled for Erik to wrap the poor animal in a hessian cloth and remove it. "I'll have a carriage prepared for you, Josie."

  "And me," Quentin said.

  "You'll ride. You need the practice."

  The three of us crossed the courtyard and returned to the avenue, only to be hailed by the king, alighting from a sedan chair carried by two of the burliest men I'd ever seen. No less than a dozen sedan chairs stopped behind him and their passengers stepped out. Miranda waved at me. I curtseyed.

  "Captain Hammer, just the man I needed to see." His Majesty approached us but he only had eyes for Hammer. It was as if I weren't even there.