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

by C. J. Archer

  "How can I help you, sire?" Hammer said.

  The king checked that none of the other nobles were nearby. He didn't seem to care that Quentin and I could overhear him. "I need to go hunting."

  "You hate hunting."

  "Yes, but it's necessary. The gentlemen need some sport and the ladies…" He heaved a sigh. "The ladies are at each other's throats. They need constant entertainment or they'll snap one another's heads off. There's only so much theater, opera and card games one can take. Balthazar convinced me that a hunt will tire them out. He sent the grand hunstman and grand equerry a message to prepare horses, dogs and whatever else we need. But I need you."

  "I'm busy at present," Hammer said.

  The king bristled. "You are not too busy to obey your king's orders."

  "I'll have six of my men accompany you. Six of them are better than one of me."

  The king turned his ear to Hammer as if he'd not heard correctly. "Are you defying me, Captain? You do recall what happens to people who refuse my order?"

  Hammer's fists closed at his sides but he otherwise didn't move a muscle. Quentin, however, swallowed audibly and I found I couldn't swallow at all. I didn't dare draw attention to myself.

  "You won't confine me to the cells," Hammer went on. "If you do, you'll never leave the palace again."

  The muscles in the king's jaw flexed and his nostrils flared. "What has got into you lately?" he snarled through gritted teeth. "You've become defiant."

  Hammer simply stood like an impenetrable tower, looking down on his surroundings with cool indifference. He must be very sure of his value to the king to defy him like this. "I'm doing my job," Hammer said. "The poisoner has attacked again."

  "What!" the king exploded. "Why didn't you say? Who has been poisoned?"

  "A dog. It's dead. I didn't mention it because I didn't want to alarm you." Hammer's gaze slid to the cluster of nobles who'd all looked up upon the king's outburst. "I didn't want to alarm anyone."

  "You should have mentioned it to me."

  "I'm mentioning it now, sire, after only just learning that it was indeed poison that killed the dog. Miss Cully confirmed my suspicions."

  The king looked at me for the first time. "I see. Do you have an antidote for this poison, Miss Cully?"

  "I'm returning home to make one now, Your Majesty."

  He pressed a hand to his stomach. He looked a little pale but I resisted asking him how he felt. "Good. See that she has everything she needs, Captain. Hopefully this latest development will speed up your investigation. It's taking far too long to bring the culprit to justice. What have you been doing all this time, anyway?"

  "Gathering evidence," Hammer said.

  "Gather faster."

  "It's not as easy as that," I said, immediately biting the inside of my cheek. Hailia, why couldn't I keep my mouth shut?

  The king slowly turned his icy glare onto me. "You have something to say, Miss Cully?"

  I cleared my throat. I'd already dug a hole for myself, now I had to climb out of it with as much dignity as I could without making it deeper. "The captain is working as hard as he can, sire. I may not know him well, but I do know he won't allow the poisoner a moment of freedom if he can help it. When you employed Hammer as the captain of your guards, you chose well." There. Hopefully giving him some credit would make amends for my loose tongue.

  The king's features softened. He grunted a laugh. "It seems you have another admirer, Captain." He looked to his nobles, now watching with interest. "On second thought, I don't think I'll be needing your services, Captain. A hunt in the open with weapons seems like a bad idea given the circumstances."

  "Very wise," Hammer said.

  "Ride alongside my chair back to the palace."

  Hammer bowed. "Yes, sire."

  The king strolled to the sedan chairs and gave the nobles the news that he no longer wished to hunt. It was initially met with long faces that quickly lifted as they realized it was in their best interests to think the king's decision to stay indoors was precisely what they wished too. A discussion of the weather ensued.

  Hammer signaled to a groom to bring him a horse. "Wait for me here in the stables, Josie. Quentin, stay with her."

  He strode off before I could tell him I would be fine, or that I wasn't another of his admirers, that I was merely defending him as anyone would.

  "Come into the shade, Josie," Quentin said as we watched the king's sedan chair leave. Some of the other nobles followed in theirs, including Lady Lucia. She was one of the first to trail after the king, and her brother behind her. It would seem she'd decided to be well again.

  Some of the sedan chairs had already departed, empty, leaving the remaining nobles stranded unless they decided to walk. Only Miranda set off toward the palace on foot while the other ladies gave orders to stable boys to find them transport back to the palace gate.

  "I ought to warn her about the latest poisoning," I said to Quentin.

  "Wait, Josie. I'm supposed to protect you."

  "Then you'd better walk with me."

  I intended to give Lady Violette Morgrave, Lady Deerhorn, and the duchess of Gladstow a wide berth but changed my mind. It was clear from the way they watched Lady Miranda that she was the object of their discussion. I slowed to an amble as I drew closer.

  "I don't know what he sees in her," Lady Morgrave said with a purse of her lips. "She's pretty enough, but so are dozens of women. She's not at all witty."

  "She's sweet and has a sense of humor," the duchess of Gladstow said, her face bright and open. "I like her."

  Lady Morgrave and her mother, Lady Deerhorn, exchanged glances. "You're just saying that because you want to befriend the king's favorite," Lady Deerhorn said.

  "I'd like to be her friend. Truly I would. But what would I gain from the king by being her friend?"

  Mother and daughter exchanged another knowing glance that the duchess of Gladstow didn't notice, or chose not to.

  "Unfortunately, my husband has forbidden a friendship between us," the young duchess said. "He's been rather beastly about it, and he won't tell me why." Her eyes suddenly lit up. "But he's not here, is he?" She picked up her skirts and raced after Miranda.

  "Why has the duke forbidden their friendship?" Lady Morgrave asked her mother.

  "It's rather a scandal," Lady Deerhorn said with a smug smile. "The duke was set to marry Lady Claypool, before she married Lord Claypool. Apparently he'd been madly in love with her ever since they were children. Their families were in agreement, and arrangements were set in motion for them to wed when they came of age. Rumor has it that she was content with the match until she met a more handsome and more interesting man than the future duke of Gladstow."

  "Who can be more interesting than a duke?" Lady Morgrave asked with a laugh.

  "Lord Claypool, apparently. He may be only a baron, but he was an extraordinarily handsome man in his youth and very charming."

  "Well, well. How intriguing. No wonder Gladstow loathes the Claypools."

  "He's not used to losing," Lady Deerhorn said. "Do you know, I think this is the first time they've seen one another in all these years. I've noticed he won't even look at her, and he walks out of the room every time Claypool enters it. It must gall him to see their daughter is the king's favorite."

  The question was, did it gall him enough to poison her?

  They lowered their voices so I could no longer hear them. I picked up my pace and met Miranda and the duchess of Gladstow, now walking together along the avenue. I enquired after Miranda's health.

  "Much improved, thanks to you and your father," she said with a warm smile.

  "Are you the doctor's daughter?" the duchess asked. "I only just heard about his death. I am sorry for your loss. He did a marvelous service for Miranda."

  "Thank you." As much as I wanted to ask Miranda if she was more enamored of the king now, I couldn't with the duchess there. "His Majesty seems very attentive," I said instead.

  We all gazed u
p the avenue to where the king's sedan chair made swift progress toward the palace.

  "Not attentive enough to offer me his chair." Miranda didn't seem all that perturbed by his lack of consideration. Indeed, she sounded a little relieved.

  "Why did he rush off like that?" the duchess asked.

  I merely shrugged. I'd changed my mind about warning them. It was for Hammer to decide if Miranda needed to be told about the dog.

  The duchess linked her arm with Miranda's. "I wonder if the hunt will go ahead," she said. "I do hope so. I adore riding, don't you, Miranda?"

  It wasn't until we arrived at my house that I had a chance to tell Hammer what Lady Deerhorn had said to Lady Morgrave about the Gladstow-Claypool rivalry. He thanked me for the information but gave no sign that he found it important.

  "Do you plan on telling Miranda and the others about this latest poisoning?" I asked as I unlocked the door.

  "The king said he'll warn her the danger is not over," he said. "He doesn't want anyone else told for fear of panic."

  I wasn't sure if that was wise, but kept my mouth shut. Palace security was Hammer's responsibility. If he thought the king was wrong, I no longer had any doubt that he'd tell him so. The king's threats didn't seem to perturb him.

  "I didn't know the palace had prison cells," I said, pushing open the door.

  He put a hand out, barring my entry. "Stay here. Quentin, with me."

  They checked the house and announced it was clear of dangers before allowing me to enter. I went straight to my father's workroom and looked over his tidy desk. Books had been shelved, papers stacked, and the dish that had been burning over the heat box was nowhere in sight.

  "Are any of these books out of order?" Quentin asked, indicating the shelves.

  "I couldn't say. My father had no order to his books. My neighbor might remember which ones he put back and where. I'll ask him."

  "I'll do it," Hammer said. "You and Quentin stay here and test the sample."

  "You don't have to return to the palace?"

  "The king will remain indoors for the rest of the day and most likely tomorrow. My men are on guard both within the palace and the commons. Only kitchen and serving staff are allowed in the kitchen until further notice."

  "For once, the cook agrees with the captain's measures," Quentin said. "He hates people wandering in and out, picking at the food. Dogs too. Without him yelling so much, I hear it's a better place to work."

  "There seem to be quite a few senior staff with tempers," I said.

  "Are you including me in that assessment?" Hammer asked.

  "I'm yet to see you lose your temper, although I worried that you were close today with the king. It was unfair of him to accuse you of not trying to find the poisoner when you're supposed to guard him every moment he leaves the palace."

  He stepped closer and lowered his voice. "I owe you thanks for your defence of me."

  "It didn't do a lot of good. You managed to deflect his temper without my help."

  "Even so, I'm grateful, but I want you to be more cautious in future. The king is volatile. I'd prefer you to avoid his notice."

  He was right, of course, and I needed to restrain myself. The thing was, I'd not been prepared for my own outburst. The only conflict I'd ever experienced was with my father, and I'd always stood my ground with him if I thought he was being unfair.

  "It's not that easy," I said.

  "So I've noticed."

  "I do tend to open my mouth when I shouldn't."

  "That's not what I meant." He turned away. "I'll speak with your neighbors while you perform tests."

  "Wait a moment. You were going to tell me about the palace cells."

  He hesitated in the doorway and rested his hand on his sword hilt. "There's nothing to tell."

  "Are there prisoners in them?"

  "Of course," Quentin said. Hammer glared at him over his shoulder and Quentin swallowed loudly. "Not many. Very few, really. Maybe one or two. Or three."

  "The prisoners are not your concern, Josie." Hammer strode out, leaving me feeling like I'd been rapped on the knuckles for my impertinence.

  Quentin helped me set up the heat box then placed a small amount of the dog's discharge into a dish. We noted down the smell, color, and texture of the discharge after the heating process then checked the results against the handwritten notes in one of my father's books.

  "Here," I said, pointing to a page. "The poison is a combination of these three ingredients. It's different to the poison used on Lady Miranda, although it does contain traitor's ease. No direweed though, which explains why it didn't have the same earthy smell. The sickly sweet smell comes from the cane flower which affects the heart. It means he was poisoned twice. The first time wasn't enough and merely gave him chest pains. That's when he used the catspaw. The second dose, ingested later, was fatal." I scanned the rest of my father's notes but there was no antidote listed, not even any suggestions on what to try. "Damn."

  "What is it?" Quentin asked.

  "We have to test different combinations of ingredients to find the right amounts to neutralize the poisons. The problem is, there are dozens of ingredients with the right properties. There's nothing here that helps us narrow it down."

  "That means thousands of possible combinations to test." He sighed. "We'll be here for some time."

  "I'll be here for some time. You and the captain have to return to the palace."

  Hammer returned and crouched by the bookshelves. "Your neighbor said he returned three books to the left side of the lowest shelf. He can't recall which pages were open."

  "I have one here," I said, indicating the notebook.

  He passed me the other two, both slender volumes, and I flipped through the pages. "These are very specific about a particular group of plants. My father must have known the solution to finding the antidote was in these books."

  "That's good." Quentin tapped the ends of his fingers with his thumb, counting. "Instead of thousands of combinations, we'll only have hundreds."

  "Less. I have only a few of these ingredients to hand."

  We set to work, testing and re-testing small portions of the discharge using ingredients from the larder. Hammer left again to question my neighbors and returned at dusk.

  "Several saw your father leave the house that day and return some time later," he said. "None spoke to him. According to one, his countenance didn't invite idle conversation. He looked in earnest and keen to get home."

  "Did he look ill?" I asked.

  "None mentioned it."

  "So the fatal dose was administered after he got home." I looked around the room, picturing how the scene had played out. The front door was rarely locked so that patients could come and go. My father was perhaps in here, working, when the poisoner entered. Had they forced him to ingest the poison or had he done so willingly, unwittingly? I wished I'd looked closer at his body for signs of force.

  I pressed a shaking hand to my throat as bile rose.

  "Josie?" Quentin asked. "You look sick."

  "I'm fine," I said, adding another lump of peat to the heat box.

  "You should eat," Hammer said. He left and I heard pots clattering in the kitchen. A few minutes later, he returned holding a carrot in one hand and a knife in the other. "There's not much food in your larder, but a lot of medicines, herbs and spices."

  "I haven't been to the market lately," I said without meeting his gaze.

  He didn't immediately respond or leave and I had the sickening sensation that he'd learned something of my movements from his enquiries and knew that I'd been to the market only that morning. The carrot had been one of my few purchases.

  "Josie, if it's money—"

  "It's not." I turned back to the dish and added a pinch of amani powder.

  "I'm sure I can make something from what's there."

  "You can cook, Captain?" Quentin asked.

  "I'm about to find out."

  "There's no need," I said. "Thank you, but I don
't want you experimenting on me. Either of you. Now, if you don't mind, I have work to do and you both have to get back. I'll send word of my results tomorrow, if I have any."

  Hammer pointed the carrot at me. "Make sure you eat tonight."

  "Don't tell me what to do, Hammer."

  "You promised to call me Captain." He walked off.

  "What's got into him?" Quentin muttered.

  Between performing tests and tossing in bed, I got very little sleep. I awoke early and decided to take a break from work and question my father's friends. There were few he would have considered a friend who weren't also neighbors, so the list was short. None had seen him the day he died, or the days leading up to his death. None could tell me if something troubled him.

  I returned home only to be stopped by an elderly neighbor who lived three doors up from Meg. She was rather reclusive and only left the house to go to the market twice a week. She told me she hadn't answered the door when Hammer knocked the day before as she hadn't been expecting visitors. Like my father, Mull made her fearful these days.

  "I hear that guard was asking about your father the day he died," she said. "I should have spoken to him yesterday but…" She shrugged. "I saw someone go to your house that day, Josie. I was sitting in my window here, and I saw your father come home. Then someone else came. I couldn't see his face," she went on. "He wore a long cloak with a hood. Nobody wears a cloak in this weather unless he's up to no good."

  "He?"

  "Figure of speech. I couldn't see what they wore under the cloak." She invited me in for refreshments and a longer chat, but I declined.

  "I have work to do. Thank you for the information. I'll see the captain gets it."

  "Why does he want to know, anyway? Didn't your father die of a heart problem?"

  "Probably." I didn't want to worry her. If she thought a poisoner was targeting respectable citizens, she would never leave her house.

  I finally had a breakthrough with my tests in the early afternoon and immediately set out for the palace on foot. The road was busier than usual, and I hitched a ride on a cart laden with crates full of ribbons and flowers. The driver told me it was for the revels the following night.