The Whisper of Silenced Voices

by C. J. Archer

  "And what did the dukes think of Lord Barborough's accusation?" I asked.

  "They scoffed at first. They told him he was a fool for believing such nonsense. Then Barborough listed the reasons why he suspected magic. He was very convincing."

  Kitty and Miranda exchanged knowing glances.

  "He convinced both of you, too?" I asked.

  Kitty nodded. Miranda met my gaze levelly. "It makes sense, but it seems so…fantastical. When magic was first suggested to me, by my maid some weeks ago, I dismissed it. When Kitty wanted to look for clues pointing to magic around the palace, I went along with it to pass the time of day. I didn't truly believe it. But now, hearing someone of Barborough's standing talk about it with such credibility… I think I believe him."

  "My husband and the Duke of Buxton believe now, too," Kitty said. "They certainly seemed very interested and asked a lot of questions."

  "Of course they're interested," Miranda told her. "You know why."

  Kitty covered her ears. "Don't say it. I can't bear to think of Gladstow being involved in, in…"

  "Treason," I finished for her.

  Kitty looked as if she would be ill. "He's going to get himself into awful trouble if he keeps listening to that horrid Lord Barborough. If the king found out, Gladstow would lose his head."

  "Then perhaps you can get yourself a kinder husband," Miranda said.

  "Miranda!" Kitty cried, lowering her hands. "I can't believe you'd say such a thing."

  "He isn't treating you very well, lately. You've been moping about the palace, and I know he's the reason. Tell us what's wrong. Perhaps we can help."

  Kitty shook her head and sipped her tea. "It's nothing. I'll be all right."

  Miranda sighed.

  I wondered if the Duke of Gladstow's change toward his wife coincided with seeing Miranda's mother again after so many years. He claimed to still be in love with Lady Claypool, although he'd behaved despicably toward her on the night of the revels. Neither Kitty nor Miranda knew about that, and it was best it stayed that way.

  I decided to return the discussion to less personal matters, lest I say something I shouldn't. "Why are you telling me about Barborough meeting the dukes, anyway?"

  "We didn't know who to tell," Miranda said with a fluid shrug of her shoulders. "We don't want to get the dukes into trouble, but we do want to know what those at the palace think. You know the servants better than we do, Josie."

  "You're very friendly with the guards," Kitty added. "One in particular."

  I didn't like lying to them, but I couldn't tell them about the memory loss. I wouldn't break my promise to Dane.

  "We know the servants have discussed the idea that magic created the palace," Miranda said. "But only among themselves. My maid, Hilda, overheard them, but they wouldn't speak directly about it to her. She says they keep to themselves, and none of the visiting servants can glean any information from them about their backgrounds. Don't you think that's odd?"

  "Since you're friends with the guards, we thought you could ask them," Kitty said. "I think a direct approach would work best in this case, don't you, Miranda?"

  "Most assuredly." Miranda smiled that beautiful smile of hers, the one that had captured the king's heart soon after her arrival, and had all the men in the palace desiring her.

  It didn't work on me. "I'm not that close with the guards. If the servants won't talk to your maids, the guards are unlikely to talk to me, either."

  "They must be hiding something. They must know what created the palace."

  "Or they're scared."

  "Of what?" Miranda asked.

  "It's treason for servants to suggest magic put the king on the throne, just as much as it is for dukes."

  She nodded, and I was glad my reasoning had got through to her. As curious as she was, she wouldn't endanger anyone by pressuring them for answers.

  "I think it's best if we don't mention it again," I said. "Let the pieces fall where they may."

  Miranda sat back with a sigh. "I don't like doing nothing."

  "Sometimes doing nothing is the best course for everyone."

  "I cannot imagine my husband doing nothing if he thinks magic is involved," Kitty said. "Nor the Duke of Buxton."

  It was a sobering thought, and one that had us sitting in silence as we finished our tea. I only hoped Dane was right, and the dukes wouldn't dare try and overthrow the king if they believed he possessed magical powers. Looking at Kitty's worried face, however, I wasn't sure we could trust the dukes to be sensible.

  Chapter 6

  I hoped to get word to Dane in The Row that I needed to speak to him. He needed to know that Lord Barborough was meeting with Glancia's two dukes in secret, attempting to stir them into action against King Leon. I wasn't sure what he'd do with the information, but the more information he possessed, the better.

  The problem was, he wasn't in The Row, according to Erik. The Marginer was on duty at the slum's main entrance, along with another guard, and informed me that Dane was at the palace.

  "The king wanted him," Erik said.

  "Why?" I asked.

  Erik shrugged those massive shoulders of his, causing his armor to clank. "He is jealous? He likes Hammer near. He does not like to share him."

  The other guard rolled his eyes. "You make it sound like something it ain't."

  Erik frowned. "I do not understand."

  "Obviously." To me, the guard said, "The king thinks the captain of the guards should be at the palace, not here. He thinks the village is the sheriff's concern."

  "You two are still here," I pointed out. "What about the rest of the men on duty in The Row?"

  "There ain't as many of us. The sheriff reckons the situation is under control."

  "Is that what you think?"

  "We do not think." Erik tapped his helmet at his temple. The metal plate covered his forehead tattoos but not the twisted ropes of hair. The ends stuck out and cascaded down his back. "We just take orders." He looked past me and smiled. "Good. We go home now."

  Ten guards rode toward us, their armor glinting in the sunlight. I didn't realize until they joined us that Sergeant Brant led them. He eyed me from beneath his helmet.

  "What are you doing here?" he barked as most of his men continued through to The Row.

  "Talking," I said.

  "Civilians should be moved on quickly," he told Erik and the other guard.

  "Come, Josie," Erik said. "I take you home."

  "She can make her own way. She's just a civilian now, and she's been no help to us."

  Erik straightened in the saddle. "She has been much help. She helped me, and Quentin—the king, too."

  Brant looked around before saying, "I mean with our memories. She hasn't found a cure."

  "Maybe we are not sick," Erik shot back. "You know this, Sergeant. You say that magic made us like this. That is not Josie's fault. She cannot cure us if there is no cure."

  Brant moved up alongside Erik. "Go away, Marginer. I don't want to see your ugly face for the rest of the day."

  Erik grunted. "You need Balthazar's spectacles."

  "And a mirror," muttered another guard too far from Brant for him to hear.

  I walked away, hoping that might diffuse some of the tension between them. I didn't get far when Erik, the guard who'd been on duty with him, Max and seven other guards rode up to me.

  "Are you all right, Josie?" Max asked. "Erik told me what Brant said."

  "Fine, thank you." I smiled up at him. "Are you returning to the palace now?"

  He nodded.

  "May I come? I need to speak to the captain."

  Erik patted the saddle in front of him. "Give me your hand."

  Since no one else offered, I put out my hand to Erik, and he hoisted me onto the saddle in front of him.

  We set off at a walking pace, leaving Mull behind. The guards always attracted attention in the village, but even more so dressed in armor. Friends stared and asked in horror why I was under arrest.
I was relieved once we reached the open road. We passed fewer people I knew, although there were still numerous delivery carts heading to and from the palace, as well as travelers going into the village.

  Erik and Max rode at the front of the cohort of guards, maintaining a steady yet unhurried pace. Two more guards quickened their pace to join us. I could see from their faces that they had something to say to me, but neither wanted to speak up.

  "Out with it," Max finally ordered them.

  "If it's a medical matter," I said before they could speak, "you may wait until we're alone."

  "Why?" Erik asked. He rode with one hand on the reins, the other resting on his armored thigh. He rode with even more ease than Dane, his body moving fluidly with the horse. Marginers were said to be good horsemen, and I could believe it.

  "Because it might be private," I told him. "Not everyone likes to talk about their ailments in public."

  "Like my wart? Do you have warts on your little friend too?" Erik asked the guards.

  "No!" one cried.

  The other clicked his tongue. "Why do you have to mention your cock in every discussion, Erik?"

  "Because it is important to me. Like food is to you, Ray."

  The guard named Ray glanced down at his armor plated stomach.

  "And like Josie is to Hammer," Erik added.

  I swiveled to see him better. "He talks about me?"

  "Of course."

  "What do you two want?" Max barked at the guards.

  Ray cleared his throat. "We were thinking about how we asked you to find a cure for memory loss that first day you came to the garrison, Josie. We wanted to know if you're still looking for a cure."

  "I am, but it's not easy. I'm not sure there is a cure."

  "Not of the medical kind, you mean?" asked the other guard.

  I nodded.

  He dropped his head. "So you think Brant's right and magic did this?"

  "I don't know. I'm sorry."

  "Some of us thought about asking the new village doctor," Ray said.

  "Merdu, don't do that. You can't trust anyone."

  Max pointed a gloved finger at Ray. "Do not discuss this with outsiders. Not without the captain's permission."

  "Aye, sir," the second guard said. He dropped back to ride with the rest of the guards but Ray remained.

  "It's just that the new doctor only recently arrived from the college in Logios, didn't he?" he asked.

  "I believe so," I said.

  "So his knowledge is up to date. He'll know if something like this has been reported in recent years, whereas Doctor Cully wouldn't." He chewed the inside of his cheek and gave me an apologetic shrug.

  "Ray!" Max snapped. "Don't be disrespectful."

  "It's all right," I told him. "I would say the same thing, in his position. While I can't be certain Doctor Ashmole isn't aware of a cure, I highly doubt it. Something like this, happening to so many at once, would have made news all over The Fist." I smiled gently at him. "Mull isn't that much of a backwater anymore."

  He smiled sadly back. "I won't ask him if you think it best not to."

  "I do."

  The guards went directly to the kitchen when we arrived at the palace, and I made my way to the garrison alone, hoping to find Dane there, or ask one of the guards where to find him. The garrison was empty, however, so I headed back to the commons. It was a pleasant day and many nobles were out, crossing the forecourts on their way to the coach house or stables beyond the gate, or being carried in a sedan chair. Others merely ambled in small groups, seeming to have nowhere to go. Most were women, of course. The king had asked for eligible ladies and their parents to be presented to him at court, not their brothers, hence so few young noblemen were present. Those who had come had defied the king's orders or, in the case of the Deerhorns, were near neighbors and invited out of politeness.

  That was why Lord Barborough stood out. Being in his thirties, he was a rare find at court, and I would have suspected more of the ladies to flirt with him, simply for something to do. But almost every time I saw him, he was with men or alone.

  He was alone now, standing near the end of the southern pavilion at the edge of the large forecourt. He saw me and pushed off from the wall. I picked up my pace and hurried past the pavilion. Once in the breezeway between pavilion and commons, I felt safe. The area was frequented by servants hurrying between the main service building and the palace. I belonged among these people and blended in. The well-dressed and aloof Barborough did not.

  I glanced behind me and was relieved to see that he hadn't followed. I headed into the kitchen only to be shouted at by the cook to get out of his domain. One of his assistants took pity on me and told me the guards were in the servants' dining room. It wasn't mealtime, so they sat alone at one of the dozens of long tables, sharing a platter of chicken.

  Max raised his tankard of ale when he saw me. Ray beckoned me over and Erik offered me a chicken leg, but I declined. He poured me a cup of ale instead.

  "The captain wasn't there," I told them.

  "He might be attending the king at his picnic," Max said. "The kitchen hands told us they've been busy all morning preparing a feast for the king and thirty of his favorites."

  "They're in the garden somewhere," Ray said. "You might as well eat with us while you wait."

  Erik passed me the plate of chicken again. I was starving. My meager diet had been made even more pathetic since the arrival of Dora and Remy. Dora refused to eat most of the time, but I couldn't let her go hungry, so I assured her I had money to buy more supplies from the market and even told her I'd dined out at The Anchor the night before so she wouldn't worry. She and Remy had spent two days foraging in the forest for berries or edible mushrooms, but hadn't come home with much. Every woman in the village foraged these days. The forest was almost as busy as the dock. A mere year ago, I could search for ingredients for my medicines and not come across another soul all day.

  I ate with the guards and considered keeping some of the chicken for Remy and Dora, but there was nothing left by the time they finished. I returned with them to the garrison afterward. Some sat at the table and continued to nibble at the cheese and bread supply, while others left altogether to get some rest in the adjoining dormitory.

  Max seemed to want to stay and talk to me, however, and he waited until we were alone before moving his chair closer. "How is Meg?" he asked. "And her family?"

  "Fine," I said.

  "She looked upset after the village meeting."

  "She was angry that Ivor Morgrain forced me to speak up." I smiled. "She gets indignant when her friends aren't treated well."

  "She's a good woman."

  "She is."

  He sighed. "I wish she'd talk to me."

  "Give her time."

  "She won't even look at me."

  I touched his arm. "Don't give up if you truly like her."

  "If she won't talk to me, how will I get to know her?" He sat back, breaking our contact. "I s'pose it doesn't matter. I can't start something with her until I know more about myself anyway."

  It was my turn to sigh and slump into the chair. "I understand."

  The door opened and Dane strode in with Quentin. They both looked surprised to see me, although Dane hid it better. He unbuckled his sword belt and hung it by the door, but Quentin forgot. He held his arms out and I stood to embrace him.

  "Is one of the maids with child?" he asked. "It's Gruda, isn't it? I knew she'd be the first."

  "No one is with child," I said, laughing. "And don't say that to Gruda's face."

  He grinned. "I wouldn't dare. She scares me." He tore off a chunk of bread and stuffed it into his mouth. "I'm starving," he said around the mouthful. "All that food at the picnic, and I weren't allowed to eat any. I had to stand there and watch. It ain't fair."

  "Josie," Dane said with the stiffness he'd adopted when speaking to me lately. I missed the interlude at my house when he'd returned to his usual friendly self. It had been too brief.<
br />
  "Captain," I said, matching his tone. "May we speak alone?"

  "Of course." To Max, he said, "Anything to report from the village?"

  "Nothing of note, sir. Everything has calmed down considerably since my previous shift."

  Dane nodded approval.

  "Sounds like it's all blown over," Quentin said, still chewing.

  "Or they're biding their time." Dane collected his sword belt and opened the door for me. "Will Balthazar's office suffice?"

  I nodded. "He should hear this, anyway."

  We didn't speak as we walked along the corridors, and the tension shrouded us. I scrambled to think of something to diffuse it, but everything sounded pathetic in my head.

  I was grateful to reach Balthazar's office. Dane opened the door without knocking and the master of the palace didn't seem at all surprised.

  "What is it, Hammer?" he asked, without looking up.

  "Josie needs to speak with us," Dane said.

  Balthazar regarded me over the rim of his spectacles then his gaze shifted to Dane. He grunted. "You two look unhappy. Care to confide the reason?"

  "I've just come from the king's picnic," Dane said, as if that explained his mood.

  Balthazar removed his spectacles and placed them on the desk. He clasped his hands together over his stomach. "How terrible. You had to listen to talk of parties, theater, and fashion. The ladies flirted outrageously with the king, although some of them made eyes at you when he wasn't looking."

  I arched my brows at Balthazar. Beside me, Dane shifted his weight from foot to foot.

  Balthazar merely smiled. "How is the grieving widow?"

  "She fed the king strawberries while he rested his head on her lap. She laughed at his jokes, even the terrible ones, and didn't discourage his roaming hands."

  "No wonder you're in a bad mood after witnessing that." Balthazar waved a hand at the tray with the jug of wine and cups on the table by the wall. "Have a drink."

  "Later. I want to hear what Josie has to say."

  Balthazar indicated I should sit. "Has something happened in the village? More unrest?"

  "It's relatively quiet," I said, "although there's an undercurrent of tension. But that's not why I came. I had a visit from Kitty and Miranda."