by CJ Archer
Theodore bowed. "Yes, sire."
I ought not be listening to their conversation. I should reveal myself and make up some sort of excuse for my presence. But I dared not make a sound. The king looked angry, and I didn't want to find out what punishment he meted out to eavesdroppers.
The king tugged on his lace cuffs and I thought the matter ended, but Hammer spoke up. "The library is not nearby. Theo would have been gone from this chamber for an unsuitable length of time. Time during which you may have needed him."
I held my breath, expecting the king to scold the captain as he had scolded the duke. But he simply continued to tug on his cuffs. "Yes. Well. There is that."
"If you told them you don't know all the laws and customs of Glancia, they might be more forgiving," Hammer went on. "There's no shame in it."
"Never show weakness to men beneath you, Hammer. They'll ridicule you then take advantage of you." The king's nostrils flared, making him look more like his portraits.
"I will research the laws applicable to the king's powers this afternoon," Theodore said. "Unless Your Majesty requires me elsewhere?"
"No. I'm expected in the amphitheater to watch Lady Lucia and Lady Morgrave act in a play scripted in my honor. Hammer will accompany me. Begin your research on the sovereign's powers of dismissal, Theo. Surely it's not true that I can't strip a duke of his title."
"It seems wise," Hammer said.
"Wise?" the king hissed. "What is the point of a king if he can't control his nobles? What if that duke tries to overthrow me?"
"I'm sure the laws will have special considerations for such an event."
"We'll know soon." King Leon looked down at his dark gray doublet with the white collar and cuffs and blue diamond shapes embroidered on the front. "I think I'll change into something less drab before the theatrical. You can go to the library after that, Theo."
I watched them leave but did not emerge from my hiding place until the captain assured me the king would not return. "He didn't see you."
"What would he have done if he had?" I asked.
"Beheading, perhaps."
I gasped and clutched my throat but lowered my hands when he smiled. "You have a twisted sense of humor, Captain."
"He wouldn't have done anything," he said in all seriousness. "I wouldn't let him."
"He's the king. If he wanted to beat me, he can do it, and you don't have the power to stop him. I don't know all of the laws surrounding his powers," I went on, "but I do know he can whip the local doctor's daughter if he wishes to."
"He wouldn't whip you or beat you, Josie, or anyone else. He hasn't got the stomach for it."
It was an argument I couldn't win so I let the matter drop. I wasn't convinced that the king wouldn't have beaten me if he'd caught me. It was his right to defend his property—including secrets—within his own palace.
We headed back through the palace, past lords and ladies seated exactly where they had been the first time we'd passed through. In a room larger than my entire cottage, a fat gentleman sat with his head tipped back, snoring loudly. Two ladies perched on the sofa opposite threw berries at him, trying to get them in his mouth.
"A footman can direct me out from here," I said to Hammer.
He slowed and eyed me sideways. "I'm sorry my joke offended you that much."
"It was a terrible joke but I'm not offended. You're supposed to accompany the king to the amphitheater."
"He'll be some time yet. Changes of clothing are not simple affairs."
"Where is the amphitheater?"
"It's set amongst the trees in the garden, just before Lake Grand. You can't see it from the paths."
"I saw the gardens from Lady Miranda's room. They're very pretty and interesting. Is there a herb garden?"
"The pottage garden grows herbs. Why?"
"I use herbs in medicines. I wonder what they grow."
"I'll take you one day and you can look around."
"I wouldn't want to upset the cook. He doesn't look like he'd want me wandering through his garden, picking his herbs."
"He's harmless. He likes to make himself out to be more important than he is in front of pretty Glancian women. Don't mind him."
"If you're sure it'll be safe, then I'd like to see the garden one day. My father can't object to herb gathering for medicines, and I don't need to tell him I'm coming here to get them."
The captain didn't respond for some time and I thought the topic finished until he said, "I won't go against your father's wishes."
"He worries unnecessarily."
"Would he object to me visiting you?"
My step slowed. "Why would you visit me?"
"Ever since you mentioned the illegality of men loving men and the disparity between the law and its enforcement, I've been thinking of other things I need to know that aren't written in books. Things that only a Glancian would know—one with a memory, that is."
"Oh. I see." Of course that was why he wanted to see me. I was a fool to think it was for any other reason.
The rooms we'd been traversing through suddenly opened up to an expansive landing, lushly carpeted with a double-sided sofa offering a place for the weary to rest before going up or down the stairs. The gilded relief of the king's initials decorated all the doors with the Lockhart crest above. The staircase itself was made of the same red, white and black marble that adorned the forecourt, the pilasters topped with golden domes. A gold statue of the king wearing a crown and holding a branch in one hand and a scepter in the other took pride of place in the center of the landing. It was large enough to be visible from the grand black and white tiled entrance gallery below.
"So what do you think?" Hammer asked.
"It's beautiful," I said on a breath.
He looked around the entrance gallery as if seeing it with fresh eyes. "I suppose. But I meant about you answering my questions."
"When can you get away from here?"
"Tomorrow afternoon, unless there are developments with the investigation that require my attention."
My father had two patients to visit in the afternoon, both of them too old and ill to come to us anymore. He would expect me to go with him, but I could make an excuse that I wanted to study his notes or make up some medicines. Lying was the only way to see the captain—my father would never agree to me meeting a man from the palace alone.
"Have you seen our beaches yet?" I asked as we exited the palace into the bright sunshine.
"Only from afar."
"Meet me at Half Moon Cove tomorrow afternoon. It's half a mile north of the village and only accessible via stairs."
"I'll be there, armed with questions."
He escorted me to the main gate where he signaled for a waiting carriage to collect me. The thrill of his hand touching mine as he assisted me into the cabin lasted until I left the estate altogether. It was replaced not only with a flutter of trepidation, but also the sense that my father was right and I was a fool for meeting a man I hardly knew whose past was shrouded in mystery, in a secluded place with only one exit back up the steep cliff.
Chapter 9
Palace guards were conspicuous throughout Mull that afternoon and evening. They paid particular attention to the Row, questioning its occupants about Zemayans. Every one of our patients arrived with the news and an opinion on what it might mean.
"Seems the guards are as subtle as their captain's name," Father said to me after the final patient left. He eased himself onto a kitchen chair with a groan.
I dipped a clean cloth into the basin of water and passed it to him. He patted it over his brow and the back of his neck. "You're working too hard," I said. "You should have allowed me to see the last patient. It was only a few bruises."
"Possible cheek fracture," he said. "And I didn't like the look of him."
I ladled broth into a bowl and set it before him. "You're judging your patients on their looks now?"
"How else am I supposed to judge the ones I've never met before?" He dipp
ed his spoon into the bowl and tasted the broth. He pulled a face and inspected the bowl's contents. "It's watery."
"I wanted a change from fish, but prices of beef and mutton are outrageous. I only bought a little."
"Good girl. You're wise to save at the moment."
"Why?"
He pushed the bowl aside. "In my experience, if a man looks like a thug, he usually is a thug."
"We're still discussing that, are we?"
"That man looked like the biggest bruiser in the village," he went on. "I don't want you anywhere near him, Josie." That explained why he'd sent me to the kitchen as soon as he'd laid eyes on the man who'd filled our doorway. "Judging someone on appearances might not seem fair to you, but you've lived a sheltered life, and you don't know what bad men look like."
They looked like the men who'd followed me in The Row, but I didn't tell him that. I didn't say anything. He was in the sort of mood where it was impossible to reason with him.
"Mull is changing, and we must change with it," he said. "Or leave."
I paused, the spoon halfway to my mouth. Surely he couldn't be serious. "Mull is our home. We're not leaving. Stop talking nonsense and have your soup. If you're not going to let me help you every time a strange man walks in the door, you're going to need your strength."
He drew the bowl toward him then after a hesitation, dipped the spoon in. We didn't speak throughout the rest of the meal and only spoke afterward out of professional necessity.
The arrival of a man carried by another two interrupted our evening routine. The injured man was unconscious, his hair matted with blood. His two companions may have been able to walk, but they sported cuts and bruises on their faces.
"Josie, go to the kitchen," Father said, directing the men to take the unconscious patient through to his surgery. "Boil some water."
"I'll bring it in when it's ready," I said, turning to go.
"I'll fetch it myself. You stay in the kitchen." He shut the surgery door and that was the last I saw of the three men.
I heard the front door open and close an hour later and went to see how the patient fared. I found Father sitting at his desk, his hands bloodied, his eyes glassy with exhaustion.
A lifeless body lay on the workbench, the skin the color of the dead. I slumped against the door.
"This is why I don't want you roaming Mull at night," Father said quietly. "That man got into a fight at The Mermaid's Tail. It wasn't the punches that killed him, it was the fall. He hit his head on the edge of a table. There was no chance of recovery."
"Poor man. His poor friends."
"They say they hardly knew him. He was just another newcomer to Mull, like them, who found employment on the dock. They didn't even know where he was from originally."
"That's terribly sad. He may have a family waiting for him to return."
"It's not our concern now. They'll inform their foreman tonight. Someone will come for the body in the morning." He pushed himself to his feet. "Help me clean up."
"I can do it." I squeezed his arm. "Go and wash up then go to bed. You need rest."
He nodded but didn't leave. He looked over the body with professional disinterest. "It's men like him who've ruined this village. Men like him are the reason I don't want you out after dark anymore. Mull isn't safe."
I watched him go, his shoulders more stooped than usual. It wasn't the workload that weighed him down, it was seeing his home change almost overnight. He no longer recognized the sleepy village he'd settled in with his new wife. At least he didn't mention leaving Mull again.
They took the body away the following morning while I was at the market looking for reasonably priced food. I settled on eggs and a selection of salad vegetables. Meat was too expensive and the fish were small, all the best ones having gone to the palace.
I spotted Tam Tao at his stall but didn't speak with him. I had no need of exotic herbs or spices. Meg joined me on the walk home. The basket slung over her arm looked as pitiful as mine and we shared our complaints about the prices.
Father greeted me at the door with a scowl when I got home. "You were gone too long."
"Stop worrying," I said. "For Hailia's sake, I simply got talking. You know what I'm like." I held up the basket. "We have eggs."
"I'm sick of eggs." He pressed the heel of his hand to his chest and his jaw clenched.
"Father? Are you ill?" I set the basket down but he turned away before I could get a better look at his face. "What's the matter?"
"I'm just worried about you." He strode off to the kitchen. "I don't want you out on your own."
I picked up the basket and followed. "So you've already made clear."
"I mean during the day too, now," he said from the larder.
"What?"
"Not until we leave."
"Leave!"
He picked up a jar, read the label, and returned it to the shelf. "Between the poisoning at the palace, the guards poking about, the newcomers to the village, the fights, the high prices…Mull isn't the place for us anymore." He picked up another jar, read the label, and returned that too.
I caught his hand before he plucked a third jar off the shelf. He wouldn't look at me but he didn't pull away. "Is this about the man who died?" It shouldn't be the sort of thing that worried my father. He'd seen death many times. "Has something happened?"
"Only go to the market with Meg or her mother from now on." He scanned the jars then picked up the one containing dried catspaw flowers. He opened it and smelled the contents. Satisfied that he'd got the right jar, he pushed past me.
"Why do you need that?" I asked.
"A patient came in this morning complaining of an erratic heartbeat. I thought I should prepare some catspaw if he returns."
"Who was it?"
"No one you know." He took the jar to his workroom.
I followed and watched as he emptied two flowers into the mortar and ground them with the pestle. "It's for you, isn't it?"
"Stop fussing," he chided without looking up. "Fetch some hot water."
I spent the next little while in the kitchen avoiding him and thinking up ways to leave the house without worrying him. I'd lie if necessary. Meg would certainly need to be involved. I wasn't going to miss my meeting with Hammer.
Luckily I didn't need Meg's help. Father went out in the early afternoon. He didn't take his medical bag, nor did he have any scheduled patients to visit, but he refused to tell me where he was going. At least he looked better than he had earlier.
"There's something I must do, Josie," he said as he left. "Someone I must see."
"This had better not be about leaving Mull because I'm not going anywhere," I said to his back. When he didn't answer, I called out, "When will you return?"
"In an hour."
An hour wasn't long enough. The round trip to Half Moon Cove would take up most of that time. I glanced at Meg's house across the street. No, too easy for him to check. Instead, I wrote him a note and left it on his desk. "Jamilla complaining of pains. Gone to check." He was unlikely to follow up on an expectant mother. He left those patients to me.
Hammer was wet. The ends of his hair had begun to dry but the rest of it was damp and messy, as if he'd ruffled it to shake off the drops. His shirt clung to the contours and ridges of his body, leaving nothing to my imagination. My imagination could never have done him justice, however, not even in my wildest fantasies.
He spotted me and approached along the beach. "Why are you staying back there?" he asked.
So I could admire you without being noticed, I wanted to say but didn't dare. My cheeks heated and I looked down only to see that his feet were bare. "You've been swimming," I said stupidly.
"And I didn't drown."
I looked up, straight into his gaze. His eyes were the same color as the water behind him. I blinked, dazzled by the sun and the sky and the man looking back at me, more relaxed than I'd ever seen him. More handsome too.
"I wasn't sure if I could swim," he said. "
Seems I can."
"You didn't know if you could swim until you went in? Captain, that was foolish. There's no one here to save you."
He walked back along the sand toward some large boulders at the southern end of the beach. "You're here now."
"What makes you think I can swim?"
"You strike me as a very capable woman."
Well this capable woman couldn't catch up to him. I stopped and removed my shoes before they filled with sand.
He stopped too and waited for me. "You've lived in Mull your entire life. I'd wager you came to this spot and swam with your friends when you were supposed to be studying your father's books."
He was wrong. I had stayed home and studied when my friends lied to their parents and snuck out on sunny afternoons. I'd been to Half Moon Cove many times with my mother before she died, but not too many since. With her, I'd paddled in the shallows and collected shells or seaweed that washed up on the shore, and used them to decorate our sandcastles. But years later, when my friends experienced their first kisses behind the boulders, I'd been at home, learning what to do in the event of a breached birth.
"I can't swim," I said, striding past him.
I'd almost reached the boulders when he caught up to me. "I overstepped. I'm sorry, Josie."
I winced at the heaviness in his voice. He'd been relaxed, cheerful even, and I'd ruined it. I turned on a sunny smile. "There's nothing to apologize for. So how well do you swim?"
"Moderately well."
"Since you're modest, I'm going to assume you swim like a fish."
He picked up his boots and sat on one of the boulders. "Am I modest?"
"You're not boastful."
He considered that but didn't make his thoughts known to me. He dusted the sand off the sole of one foot.
I sat on the sand, my hands behind me, and stretched my legs out. "It must be strange to learn who you are all over again."
His movements slowed. All the sand had been removed and he seemed to be simply going through the motions. "I feel as though I know who I am, in a way." He shook his head. "It's hard to explain."