The Palace of Lost Memories

by CJ Archer

  I was left alone with Brant. He sat at the table, hunkered over a slab of bread that he tore apart with thick fingers.

  He pushed another chair out with his booted foot. "Sit."

  I sat and pulled my medical bag onto my lap. He watched me as he shoved bread into his mouth until no more could fit, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His stare was so unnerving that I had to look away, yet I could still feel his gaze roaming over me. My skin prickled with the heat of it.

  "Hammer says we were whipped."

  His voice startled me. I hadn't expected him to address me, let alone about something so personal.

  "It's my professional opinion that you were," I said.

  "Professional opinion," he scoffed. "You're not a fucking doctor."

  I didn't bother answering. Men like him didn't want to hear reason and truth.

  He tapped his chest. "I wasn't whipped. Nobody would dare."

  I hugged my bag tighter.

  "Got any ideas why we can't remember yet?" he asked.

  "How can I when I'm not a doctor?"

  He pushed to his feet, scraping the chair legs across the bare floor. "You've got a mouth on you. Lucky for you, I like that." He pressed his knuckles to the table and leaned forward until his face was mere inches from mine.

  I leaned back. He had foul breath, but I wasn't going to tell him how to get rid of it. The man didn't deserve free advice. He might also take offence, and I suspected that an offended Brant was an angry one.

  He refilled his cup from a jug then filled another and handed it to me. "You look hot and bothered. Drink this."

  It took me a moment to recover from my surprise at his kindness then accepted the drink. "Thank you."

  He crossed his arms and watched me. I felt compelled to drink it all, even though the ale was stronger than I was used to. When I finished, I glanced at the door but it remained closed. What was taking Hammer so long?

  "You like him, don't you?" he asked.

  "Pardon?"

  "Don't play dumb. You like Hammer."

  "He seems like a good man."

  He leaned forward again. "I said, don't play dumb." He turned his chair around and straddled it, his forearms resting on the chair back. "Hammer warned us not to tell you about the cells."

  I blinked at him. I must have looked foolish because he chuckled.

  "Last night, he told us if you ask questions about the prisoners or the cells, we're not to tell you anything."

  "I see."

  "What do you think of that, Josie?"

  "I…I don't really know."

  Hammer's order left me feeling a little hollow. If he could confide in me about his memory loss and the scars on his back, why not the prison cells? Who was kept there? And why?

  "Seems to me he doesn't trust you," Brant said.

  It seemed that way to me too.

  "Wonder why, since you helped save Lady Miranda's life." He sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. "I guess he has his reasons, and one thing I've learned about Hammer is he always knows what he's doing. He doesn't do anything without a reason. You know the other thing I learned?" He glanced at the door. "You don't cross him. Not ever. I've seen him almost kill someone from a beating. You best remember that, Josie. I don't want you getting hurt." He clamped his hand down on mine.

  I sprang up and darted away. "Don't." I didn't know if I'd meant to say don't touch me or don't say such things about Hammer. Perhaps both. It didn't matter. My nerves were frayed and all I could think about was getting away from the sergeant.

  I rushed to the door just as it opened. Hammer filled the space.

  "What did he do?" he asked.

  "Nothing. He gave me a drink." It was the truth. Brant hadn't done anything. Touching my hand didn't count; it was hardly a threatening gesture.

  Yet I couldn't dislodge the cold lump of dread in the pit of my stomach.

  "Why do you always assume the worst of me, Captain?" Brant asked. "You forget, we're the same, you and me."

  Hammer's fists closed at his sides but he didn't disagree with Brant. Why didn't he tell him they were nothing alike?

  "We need each other," Brant went on. "We need to trust each other. You've told us a dozen times, we can only trust each other."

  And not outsiders like me, his unspoken words said.

  "Josie, come with me," Hammer said.

  I slipped past him and we strode together along the corridors. I had to walk quickly to keep up with him. "Captain, you can trust me."

  "I know."

  "Then why aren't you telling me some things?"

  He stopped suddenly and rounded on me. "Because you shouldn't trust me."

  Chapter 13

  "What do you mean?" I asked on a rush of breath. "Why can't I trust you?"

  "I don't know." He started walking again.

  "Captain—"

  "Don't, Josie. Just…don't."

  He pushed open a door and I realized we'd reached Balthazar's office. It seemed to be the only place we could have a private conversation. I was glad Balthazar wasn't there, however. Hammer was difficult enough to manage at the moment, I didn't want to face the cantankerous master of the palace too.

  "I'm sorry," he said, closing the door behind us. "None of this is your fault. I shouldn't take it out on you." He dragged his hand through his hair and down his face. He looked exhausted.

  "Sit down, Captain." I poured him a cup of wine at the sideboard. "Drink. Midwife's orders."

  He gave me a tired smile and accepted the cup.

  "I have something to help you sleep tonight," I said, opening my bag.

  He shook his head. "I need to stay alert. There's too much going on with the festivities tomorrow night."

  "I noticed more comings and goings on my way here." I glanced over the desk, covered with sketches and notes. The disorder reminded me of my father's desk when he was buried under work.

  "We can't stay long," Hammer said. "Balthazar is at the sunken garden but he'll return soon. I'd rather be gone by then."

  "In that case, I'd better give you my report." I dug through my bag and pulled out five vials. "I've made an antidote for the poison."

  "Finally, some good news." He accepted the vials and pocketed them. "Thank you. This is a relief."

  "I also learned that a hooded man entered my house after my father returned on the day of his death. Unfortunately I can't tell you anything more."

  "How did you learn that?"

  "A neighbor told me after I came back from questioning my father's patients."

  He lowered the cup. "You questioned your father's patients? Josie, you need to be careful. Someone killed your father because he knew their identity or the poisoner thinks he knew. If they hear you're making enquiries, they might come after you too."

  "Asking my father's patients a few questions is hardly going to worry the poisoner, particularly when I learned nothing."

  "Even so—"

  "He was my father. I want to find out what happened to him, and I cannot sit idly by while I could be doing something." My anger dissolved as quickly as it flared, and was replaced with hot, burning tears.

  His jaw softened and he lowered his head. "Promise me you'll be careful. If you learn anything, send for me."

  "I may sometimes say things that get me into trouble, but I rarely do anything foolish. You have my word, Captain."

  My promise seemed to satisfy him. "I have some more work for you." He set the cup on the desk and removed a small blue ceramic bottle from his pocket. "After what you told me about the duke of Gladstow holding a grudge against the Claypools, I searched his rooms."

  I gasped. "You're allowed to do that?"

  "I am the captain of the guards."

  "Yes, but he's a duke. He outranks everyone except the royal family, of which the king is the sole member at the moment."

  "And I have the king's authority to search rooms in times of danger. Or I would if I told him what I was doing." He handed me the bottle. "I
found this hidden behind a panel in a drawer."

  "You want to know if it contains poison." I removed the stopper and smelled the contents. It was pleasantly musky.

  "I also questioned the Gladstow servants, but learned nothing of use. It does seem that this is the first time the duke has seen either Lord or Lady Claypool in over twenty years. Only His Grace's valet remembered what the feud was about. He confirmed that the duke had once been unofficially betrothed to Lady Claypool but she ended it to marry Lord Claypool. His Grace was livid at the time and took many years to accept her decision. Apparently he expected her to leave Lord Claypool and return to him, tail between her legs. He finally gave up only a few years ago and decided to marry."

  "You learned all that from a long-time servant? He's not very loyal."

  "I can be persuasive."

  Watching him stand, his powerful frame towering over me, his broad shoulders and chest filling his uniform, I could well understand it. He held out his hand to me but retracted it when the door opened.

  Balthazar sighed upon seeing us. "Again, Hammer?"

  "Find me an office of my own and I won't need to come in here and drink your wine," Hammer said.

  "You have a bedchamber."

  "You want me to take Josie to my bedchamber?"

  Balthazar looked as if he was about to say something, but Hammer's quelling glare stopped him. He limped past me instead. "I hope you haven't been peeking at my plans, Josie," Balthazar said as he slid a paper on the desk beneath another. "The entertainments are supposed to be a secret."

  "I wish I could see them," I said. "It sounds like it will be glamorous."

  "It's going to be a triumph. The most dazzling thing those spoiled brats have seen." His eyes shone and I couldn't help smiling at his enthusiasm. "They won't believe their—" He suddenly leaned heavily on the desk and dropped his walking stick.

  Hammer caught him and guided him to the chair. "You're overdoing it," he said gently. "You need to rest."

  "After tomorrow. If I rest now, the festivities will become the most pathetic thing the nobles have ever seen." He shoved Hammer away. "Leave me be. I have work to do."

  "Will you let me take a look at you?" I asked. "I can prescribe something to calm you."

  "I don't want to be calm, and you shouldn't be prescribing anything. I'm not pregnant."

  His words stung, but he was right. I shouldn't have offered. If he told anyone, I could be in trouble.

  Hammer led the way out and shut the door, but not before I saw Balthazar lean both elbows on the desk and lower his head into his hands.

  The ceramic bottle contained nothing more harmful than fragrant oils. It was intended for a man, if I weren't mistaken. I was about to send word to Hammer when I spotted a boy watching my house from across the street. He looked familiar, but it wasn't until he came closer when I beckoned that I recognized the sick child from The Row whose mother, Dora, helped me escape.

  "You look much better," I told him.

  "Ma says I nearly died, but you saved me." He blinked up at me through strands of dirty blond hair, his eyes wary. Illness lingered in the shadowy hollows of his cheeks and the thin limbs poking out of too-small clothes. He was nothing but angles and edges covered by pale skin.

  "What's your name?" I asked.

  "Remy."

  "How old are you, Remy? Five? Six?"

  He looked at me like I was stupid. "Eight." He was far too small for eight.

  "Come with me. I have a task for you."

  He followed me into the house only to pause just inside the door and take in his surroundings. I'd not thought it possible, but his eyes grew even wider. It was easy to forget that I lived like a queen to some people.

  I wrote a message for Hammer then handed it and two coins to Remy. "Get a ride on a cart heading to the palace. Pay the driver one ell. Save the other for the journey home. Don't pay him until he delivers you safely. Give one of the guards on duty at the gate this message and tell him it's for Captain Hammer from me. Can you remember that?"

  He rolled his eyes. "Course I can."

  "Good. Now, something for you for your trouble." I plucked a carrot from the bowl in the larder and gave it to him along with another ell. I really needed to go to the market.

  Remy bit down on the carrot, mumbled something unintelligible then left.

  He returned an hour later full of wonder. "It's made of gold, Miss Cully!"

  "The palace? There's some gold on it, yes."

  "And it's gi-normous. The whole Row could fit in it."

  "Remy, the whole of Mull could fit in it. Did you deliver my message?"

  He nodded. "Captain Hammer came out to see me and all. He gave me this." He opened his palm to reveal another coin. "Me and Ma are going to eat like them lords and ladies tonight."

  "Did Captain Hammer give me a message in return?"

  He nodded. "He says thanks."

  "Is that all?"

  "What did you want him to say?"

  That was a good question.

  The following morning I searched again for the savings my father had hidden but found only dust and a dead mouse. I couldn't think where else in the house it might be. Luckily Hammer paid me for my work testing the dog's discharge or I'd have nothing to purchase what I needed at the market. The problem was, what I needed was food as well as supplies to replenish those I'd used in testing the poison and creating the antidote. There wouldn't be much left over.

  The stall holders who'd lived in Mull for years all passed on their sympathies, and I had a hard time keeping my tears at bay. I finally shed some when Sara Cotter passed her baby boy to me. He was the last baby I'd delivered before Father's death.

  "We named him Tristan, after your father," she said.

  "Truly?" I said, trying to dash away tears on my shoulder without waking the baby.

  Sara nodded. "You have friends here, Josie. Never forget that. If there's anything you need, call on me."

  "Thank you."

  "Speaking of your father, my mother says she heard from her neighbor's cousin that you've been asking if anyone saw him the day he died."

  "It seems silly, but I'd like to know how he spent his last hours."

  "My husband says he saw him here that day."

  "At the market?"

  She nodded. "Apparently he looked a little strange, that's why my Tolly noticed."

  "Strange how? Ill?"

  "Determined, like he didn't notice anyone or anything around him except Tam's stall. He went straight there, spoke to Tam's son, then left the market without buying anything."

  I looked toward Tam's stall, partially hidden from view by a group of gossiping women. "Thank you, Sara." I attempted a smile as I handed back the little sleeping bundle. "He's beautiful."

  I took my time buying what I needed, and could afford, all the while remaining close to Tam's stall. Tam didn't appear to be working today, but his son served customers with a cheerful smile. I had to wait until the morning's shoppers dispersed and the stall keepers began to roll down the shutters on their carts. Tam's stall, like many of them, was a permanent fixture at the market, but other stall holders wheeled their carts off-site, bringing them back in the morning and setting up all over again.

  When I saw that Mika Tao was alone, I approached. He greeted me with a friendly smile, only to quickly look past me. I spun around, but saw only other stall holders going about their business.

  "What is it, Mika?" I asked.

  He shook his head. If his father had done that, the bells threaded through his long black hair would have tinkled musically. Mika may have the Zemayan coloring of his father, but he was more Glancian, having lived here his entire life. He wore his hair short without a bell in sight.

  "Thought someone was about to come here until they saw you. Maybe you scared him off, Josie." He winked. "Don't know why. You're the least scary person I know."

  "You're too sweet for your own good." I smiled, all the while trying not to let my imagination run a
way with me.

  "You just caught me." He lifted the lid on a box of spice and was about to open a jar when I told him I wasn't there to purchase anything.

  "I want to ask you something," I said.

  He replaced the lid and continued to put jars and boxes away. "If you've come to ask me to a drink at The Anchor, the answer's yes."

  I chewed my lip.

  He laughed. "It was a joke, Josie. Go on, ask your question."

  "Did my father speak to you here the day he died?"

  He nodded. "I was sorry to hear of his death. Real sorry."

  "Thank you. I'm trying to piece together his final movements that day for my own peace of mind."

  He picked up a stick with a hook on the end and pulled down one of the stall's shutters. "I must have been one of the last people to see him alive. I can't believe it. He seemed fine. A little agitated, maybe. I heard he died of heart failure."

  "Do you remember what you spoke about?"

  "Sure do, because it was a strange conversation. He asked me about traitor's ease."

  I held my breath. "And?"

  He glanced past me then took his time lowering the two remaining shutters. He emerged from the stall and lowered the final shutter. "No one's supposed to know that we sell it," he whispered. "It can be used in poisons, and my father doesn't want the law coming here. Turns out he was right to be cautious, with that lady at the palace getting poisoned. It was nothing to do with us, you realize. My father only sells it in small quantities to people he knows and trusts. Like your father."

  "Did my father say why he wanted it?"

  He narrowed his gaze. "To kill rats, of course."

  "Right. We have a rat problem."

  "So he said."

  "Was that the first time he'd bought traitor's ease from you?"

  "Must be, because he wasn't sure we sold it. He was just asking that day. I told him he had to speak to my father. He keeps it at the house, not here."

  "Did he go and see your father afterward?"