Chapter 2
Ruth offered to show me back to the garrison after I'd finished checking her, but I declined. I wanted the time to myself to think. It wasn't until later that I wondered if she'd wanted my company. It may be broad daylight, but some of the service corridors were poorly lit and many twisted and turned, providing ample corners to hide behind.
I'd told Ruth that I would have to inform the captain, and she was in agreement, although she asked if I could be there if he needed to question her.
I barged into the garrison without really thinking and stopped short upon seeing Brant. He sat at the table with another four guards, a tankard in one hand and a piece of dried meat in the other. He eyed me from beneath heavy, drooping lids.
"Why are you here?" he asked.
"I had to see a patient. Is the captain—"
"You ain't a doctor."
"Is the captain in?"
"He'll be back soon," said one of the guards.
Another guard offered me a cup of ale. I hesitated then accepted it when I realized it was Zeke, the guard who'd chased me into The Row when I'd been on the trail of the poison seller. He looked eager to earn my forgiveness. He pulled out a chair for me at the long table and I sat.
Brant got up and sauntered over. "I asked you a question, Josie."
"And I decided not to answer it," I said. "If the captain wants you to know, he'll inform you."
He leaned down, his face so close to mine I could smell the ale on his breath. "More fucking secrets. I reckon you're all in this together. I reckon you all know what happened to us and you ain't telling."
One of the guards mumbled something, but when Brant glared at him, the guard shut his mouth. No one else spoke and the silence stretched thin.
I was thankful when the door opened and Erik strolled in with Max. Max glared at Brant, but Erik beamed at me.
"Josie!" cried the big blond Marginer. "You are here. Brant, go away. You stink."
Brant straightened and backed away, hands in the air. He spilled some of his ale on the floor.
"Clean that up before someone slips," Max barked.
"I ain't a maid," Brant said between his teeth. "And you ain't my superior." He picked up a chair and slammed it down on the flagstones. He sat and drained his tankard.
"The captain's on his way," Max told me. "I see you've been given refreshments. May I offer you something else?" He opened the lid of a tin on the sideboard only to screw up his nose and close it again.
"It's all right," I told him. "The ale is enough."
"I can send someone to the kitchen for food."
"Merdu," Brant muttered. "I'm surrounded by pathetic fools."
Erik tore a chunk of bread off the loaf on the table and threw it at Brant. Brant caught it and shoved it in his mouth.
"I'm fine," I said again to Max. "Thank you."
Erik lowered himself onto a chair and flicked the long coils of hair over his shoulder. The dot tattoos on his forehead drew together in a frown. "It is good to see you, Josie. Why do you not visit? Are we not your friends?"
"Of course you are. It's just that, well, I suppose I was waiting for an invitation."
"Invitation?"
"To be asked," I explained.
"Why not come if you want to come?"
"Perhaps there's a different custom in the Margin," I said. "But here, we wait to be invited before we visit new friends."
He grunted. "Then how do you make friends? I could die waiting for you."
"Or you could just invite me."
He grinned. "I will."
Brant made a sound of disgust in the back of his throat. "You all make me sick. Tom, spar with me. I need to hit something."
The large man called Tom hesitated. The guard sitting next to him punched him in the arm and Tom hauled himself to his feet. "Fists only," he said to Brant as they left.
I expelled a long breath as the door shut behind them. Max finally sat. He rolled his shoulder and, with a grimace, dug his fingers into the flesh near his neck.
"You have a pain?" I asked him.
"It ain't too bad."
"Describe it to me."
He pointed to the spot and told me how it felt tight and sore with certain movements. It sounded muscular, not a bone fracture or worse.
"No heavy lifting for the next few weeks," I told him. "Is that your sword arm?"
He nodded.
"Then no sparring until it heals."
"Will you tell the captain for me?" he asked.
I laughed. He did not.
"If you wish," I said. "Regular massage will also help."
Max began to unlace his shirt.
"Not from me," I said. "It might be seen as medical assistance."
Erik grunted. "Idiot rule. You are good doctor and should be allowed. The king should make it so."
"Agreed," Max said, continuing to unlace his shirt. "No one will find out, Josie."
I glanced at the external door, expecting someone to walk in at any moment. "It's unwise."
"None of us will tell." He glared at the other men.
They all nodded.
"Perhaps you have a particular friend among the staff who would like to get her hands on those impressive shoulders of yours," I said.
A ferocious blush crept across Max's cheeks, earning snickers from the other guards. He sheepishly dropped his hands away from his shirt. "Sorry, Josie," he muttered.
"I suppose it won't matter this one time." I directed him to remove his shirt but stilled when I saw the scars striping his back. I'd forgotten about them. Dane had shown me his at the beach and asked me to identify what made them. I could only guess that he'd been whipped. According to Dane, he, Max, Erik, Brant and a few other guards had them, but Dane sported the most.
I pressed into the flesh at Max's shoulder. When I found the knot, I pressed harder. Max grunted then groaned, a rolling sound that rose from the depths of his barrel chest. He tipped his head forward.
The door to the internal service corridor suddenly opened. Dane stood there, unmoving, and stared at us. His lips parted but no sound came out.
"Why'd you stop, Captain?" came Quentin's voice from behind him.
"Keep going, Josie," Max murmured.
Dane entered the garrison. He removed his sword belt and hung it up on the hook by the door. "What is this?" he asked.
"Max has a sore shoulder," I said. "It required massage."
"By you?"
"By anyone."
"Is this your professional opinion?"
"Yes."
"Then stop." He plucked Max's shirt off the table and threw it at him. "You should know better, Sergeant. Josie isn't allowed. You've put her in grave danger—"
"It's not his fault," I said. "I wanted to help."
"Doctor Clegg is in the vicinity. If he'd seen you, I wouldn't put it past him to report you."
I sat down again as Max put on his shirt. "I could have claimed it wasn't medical," I said.
Dane arched his brows at me. "You're not naive, Josie. You know what rumors would be spread about you if you said that."
I crossed my arms and looked away. The captain had a way of making me feel foolish. I could have told him that I'd welcome such rumors. They'd make a change from the jokes by the village men about my frigidity, or my preference for women, or any number of rumors that had spread since I rejected Ivor Morgrain's advances a few weeks ago.
"Where's Brant?" the captain asked his men.
"Sparring with Tom," Max said.
"Keep him busy. Give him extra duties if necessary."
"Aye, sir."
"And take Quentin with you everywhere you go."
Max sighed. "Can't Erik mind him? His talking irritates me."
"And me," Erik piped up. "His voice hurts my ears."
Quentin stamped his hands on his hips. "I'm right here."
Erik shrugged. "You are like a child. Sometimes annoying, sometimes I like you. Sometimes I want to pat you on the head and say good boy."
"I think you're confusing me with a dog, but I'm happy with a pat on the head from time to time. It's better than a punch to the face." He touched his cut lip.
Max rose and clapped Quentin on the shoulder. "Don't worry, you're as ugly as ever. In fact, it's probably a slight improvement."
"This is true," Erik said. "The maids will like it. You look more like a man now and not a boy."
Quentin picked up the knife beside the bread and admired his reflection in the metal. "Do you think so?"
Max rolled his eyes. "I’d better make sure Brant isn't killing Tom."
Erik plucked a sword and belt from a hook and held it out to him. "Spar with them."
"They're sparring with fists," Max said.
Erik grinned. One side of Max's mouth lifted. He took the sword and headed outside.
Dane invited me to leave with him through the internal door. "Have you been well?" he asked me with stiff formality as we headed to Balthazar's office.
"I have, thank you," I said, equally formal. "Of course, if you visited from time to time, you'd know."
His silence made me cringe. Perhaps I shouldn't have been so caustic. "It's best if I don't visit," he finally said.
I didn't agree so changed the subject. "How is Laylana? Can I see her?"
"She won't remember you. She lost her memories again four days ago."
Poor Laylana. The maid was locked in a room for her own safety. Unlike the other servants, whose memories had been wiped only once, Laylana lost hers again and again. Every memory loss meant she had to begin her life anew in a strange place, surrounded by people she didn't know, and not knowing anything about herself except her name. It was no wonder she showed signs of madness.
"And the gem?" I whispered. "Have you discussed it with the king?"
He took such a long time to answer that I thought he would ignore me completely. "I have not," he finally said.
We'd reached Balthazar's office so I didn't have time to ask him further questions. I suspected that was the reason for his delayed response. I glared at him to let him know I knew what he was doing.
He opened the door for me and stood in the doorway so I had to get very close to him to pass. I suspected it was a deliberate attempt to distract me. It worked. The smug look he gave me as I brushed him told me he knew it too. The man was arrogant.
I glanced at him over my shoulder and winked. The smugness vanished. He swallowed.
Balthazar sat at his desk, peering at paperwork through a pair of spectacles perched on the end of his nose. "Will you ever learn to knock, Hammer?" he said without looking up.
"I've brought Josie," Dane said. "She's just seen Ruth."
Balthazar sat back and regarded me with the same scrutiny he'd just given the papers. "Sit, Josie."
I did and indicated his spectacles. "I see you did something about your eyesight."
He removed the glasses and placed them on the desk. "I had these made by a man in Tilting. Lord Laxland's valet gave me the name. They are a great assistance." He put them back on. "For instance, I can now see why the guards are all enamored with you."
I blinked at him but quickly schooled my features. "I'm not sure whether you're flattering me or insulting me. I hope they like me for my character."
"If I were insulting you, you would know."
"That's enough, Balthazar," Dane chided. "Don't tease her. She's done us a service coming here today on such short notice."
"She's being paid." He opened a drawer and pulled out a purse jangling with coins.
"That's too much," I said, looking inside. "My fee is less than half this."
"Blame the captain. He insisted."
I glanced at Dane but he was too busy shooting fierce glares at Balthazar to notice.
"Tell us about Ruth," Balthazar said to me. "What ails her?"
"It's an extremely delicate matter," I said. "What I'm going to tell you cannot leave this room."
"That is our decision to make, not yours."
"It won't," Dane assured me. "Unless it becomes necessary." He leaned against the sideboard and crossed his arms and ankles. The man rarely sat.
"Is she with child?" Balthazar pressed.
"It's too soon to tell," I said. "She was raped two nights ago."
Dane swore under his breath. Balthazar rubbed a wrinkled and ink-stained hand across his mouth. When neither man asked questions, I thought it best to answer those I could anticipate.
"She didn't see her attacker. He came up behind her in one of the service corridors. All she knows is that he was male, taller than her and stronger."
"She's a slight woman," Dane said heavily.
"She has bruises which give her some discomfort but there is no pain from the act itself, however she wanted me to check her anyway. I think she wanted to talk to someone about it more than receive medical attention. She hasn't even told the maid who shares her room."
"Did you tell her she should not feel ashamed?" Balthazar asked. He looked pale and his hand shook, but I couldn't tell if it was from old age or shock.
"It's not just the shame. She feels violated." I glanced at Dane. "She no longer feels safe."
Dane pushed off from the sideboard and made to leave the room, but hesitated by the door. With his back to me, I couldn't see his face, but I knew he was angry from his clenched fists and tense shoulders.
"Captain, you must reassure her," Balthazar said. "And question her to find the man."
"Only with me present," I said. "That was her request."
Balthazar nodded and glanced at Dane. He hadn't turned around.
"There's one other thing," I said. "It's not related to this incident, but I want you to know." I wasn't even sure why I wanted them to know. It was Ruth's affair, not theirs, yet I couldn't bring myself to tell her. She'd been through enough and I didn't want to make her sadder.
My hesitation had them both focusing on me.
"She's given birth before." The small scar had been more than a year old, at a guess, and had been expertly stitched. I couldn't be positive that a midwife's hand had done the work, but I was almost certain.
"So she has a child," Balthazar said, taking up his pen. "There's nothing we can do about that."
I watched him dip the pen in the inkwell and scribble notes. That was it? He had nothing more to say?
I leaned forward but he did not look up at me. "It's evidence of a past life," I said. "Evidence that she, and therefore all of you, are real people, not magical ones conjured out of thin air."
"I never had any doubt about that. Did you, Hammer?"
Dane shifted his stance. "It's wise of you to keep it from her at this point," he said to me.
"Is it?" I shook my head. "I don't know if I had done the right thing."
"It will only make her unhappy that she cannot get back to that child."
My head agreed with him, but my heart still harbored doubts. I'd tried putting myself in Ruth's position but failed to imagine whether she'd want to know. It was why I'd chosen the cowardly option and told Dane and Balthazar instead. They knew her better than me and could decide what to do.
Balthazar finished writing. He looked over the page then held it out to Dane. "Begin your investigation with these three. One is a footman, one a gardener, the third works in the stables."
"You suspect your own staff?" I asked, rising and trying to peer at the paper.
Balthazar jerked it away. "This is for Hammer's eyes only."
Dane took the paper and looked at the names. "It's unlikely to be a palace servant."
"Why?" Balthazar asked. "It's happened before."
My breath hitched. "It has? Did you catch him?"
Dane glared at Balthazar.
"The captain did," Balthazar said. "He's no longer a threat."
Was he talking about the palace prisoners? The three men lived in cramped, windowless cells, and had not faced outside justice. I could easily imagine the feral looking Kai preying on maids. I'd not seen the other two.
"Nothing of this nature has happened since that incident," Dane said. "If a palace servant is responsible, why start now?"
Balthazar grunted a humorless laugh. "Perhaps he has only just found his courage after seeing what happened to Mal."
Mal was the name of one of the other prisoners. "What happened to him?" I asked.
"I arrested him," Dane said quickly.
"After making sure everyone saw what happens to those who attempt to harm other members of staff," Balthazar added. "If anyone was in any doubt as to how Hammer got his name, they weren't after the captain arrested Mal."
My blood ran cold. I'd suspected Dane had a violent streak but this was confirmation of it. The healer in me was sickened, but as a woman, I was gratified that an attempted rapist had been dealt what he deserved.
Another thought struck me. Balthazar had implied that he knew Hammer wasn't the captain's real name, that it was a nickname given to him because of that violent streak. Dane had told me he'd not corrected anyone else's use of that nickname, so Balthazar must have guessed. He watched Dane very closely for a reaction to his allusion.
Dane gave none. He calmly folded the paper and creased it between thumb and forefinger.
"I still think this latest attack could be by a member of staff," Balthazar went on. "He might have been too afraid of you to attack earlier. He's been biding his time."
"I said it's unlikely to be one of the palace servants, though it is not impossible," Dane said. "It's more likely to be one of the visiting lords or their servants, given the timing."
"You should keep an eye on the Deerhorn lordlings," I told him. "They're notorious in Mull. The village women know to stay out of their way after an incident two years ago, where the eldest forced himself on a girl. He claimed she threw herself at him but I know her, and she's not like that."
Dane nodded his thanks for the information.
"I doubt it was a lord," Balthazar said. "It's more likely to be one of their servants if it happened in a service corridor. And using your same theory, it's unlikely to be any of the visiting noblemen or their staff. They've been here over a month now, and there have been no reports of anything like this happening."
"Not on this scale," Dane agreed.
Balthazar arched his brows. "Are you telling me there have been minor incidents and I haven't been informed?"
"It was a security matter not a staff matter."
"I beg to differ. If my staff are in any danger, I must be told."
"So you can do what?"
Balthazar threw his hands in the air. "Warn them, of course."
"The matter was taken care of. There was no need to alarm anyone."
Balthazar's eyes tightened at the corners. "In what way did you take care of it, Hammer?"
"In a way that you don't need to know about." Dane put up his hand. To my surprise, Balthazar shut his mouth, although I half expected to see steam escaping from his nostrils. "I agree that based on the timing, someone associated with the Dreen and Vytill representatives attacked Ruth. They are newly arrived and are accompanied by large entourages."
Balthazar groaned. "If it is one of them, it could cause a diplomatic problem."
"It already is a problem for Ruth," Dane bit off.
Balthazar rubbed his temples and sighed. He suddenly seemed very frail. His mind might be sharp but he had the stooped shoulders, thin frame, and weary eyes of old age. "You're right. If it is one of the representatives, he must be dealt with according to Glancian law."
He had more confidence than me in bringing the rapist to justice if it turned out to be one of the Dreen or Vytill representatives. It was more likely they'd go home without so much as a smear on their name.
A servant, however, was another matter entirely. A visiting valet or footman could expect to be brought to justice. But a palace servant? Would he face Glancian justice? Or would he be beaten by Dane and thrown in the cells like Mal?
I looked up at Dane, only to see him watching me intently.
"There's something I should mention," Balthazar said. "Ruth cleans the rooms used by Lord Barborough, the Vytill representative. She shouldn't see his lordship, although it's not impossible for them to have met. She's more likely to come into contact with his valet and assistants, however."
Dane nodded. "I'll question them all, including his lordship."
"Is it too much to ask you to tread lightly, Hammer?"
The captain threw him a cool look.
Someone knocked on the door. "Enter!" Balthazar said. "See, Hammer, knocking isn't a difficult skill to master."
Theodore glanced between them. "Don't fight in front of a guest."
"I'm hardly a guest," I said. "And they're not fighting. Fights are what Brant starts. This is merely needling."
Balthazar clasped his hands on the desk. "Brant is fighting again? Hammer, why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you don't need to know," Dane said. "The guards are under my jurisdiction."
"Then control them."
Theodore cleared his throat. "Josie, if you're finished here, the king has need of you. He fell off his horse and is concerned he may have fractured ribs."
"I can't," I said. "Doctor Clegg will gladly do it."
"His Majesty asked for you."
"She told you she can't," Dane growled.
Theodore put up his hands in surrender. "You refuse him to his face, Hammer." To me he added, "It'll just be a quick inspection of the bruising."
"No," Dane said.
Theodore sighed. "Let me assure both of you," he shot a glare at Dane, "that no one will find out. We'll be discreet."
"Discreet! Gossip swarms around the palace like flies around day-old meat. She's not going."
"I'll go," I said. Perhaps it wasn't wise to let my rebellious streak rule my decision-making, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. There really wasn't. "As long as no one else finds out."
Dane muttered something under his breath and appealed to the ceiling.
"Thank you, Josie." Theodore gave me a shallow bow. "I dreaded what to tell the king if you refused. He doesn't like being told no."
"Theo, try to refrain from disparaging our king to our guests," Balthazar chided.
"She's one of us," Theodore said.
"No, she isn't."
"She might as well be. She knows our secrets."
Balthazar picked up a stack of papers and flipped through them. "If there's nothing else…"
We three filed out of his office and walked up stairs and through the maze of corridors to the king's apartments. I'd been in them before but the opulence and their sheer size still amazed me. I wouldn't want to live in such spacious rooms. There was nothing cozy or comfortable about them. Between the gilded furniture, the gold leaf on the wall panels, the crystal chandeliers and the pictures of the king framed in thick gold, I felt like I shouldn't touch anything. Only the bed looked comfortable. Indeed, the king must have found it so because he lay on it, snoring softly. He couldn't have been in too much pain.
Theodore cleared his throat and the king's eyes cracked open then flared wide.
"Josie. May I call you Josie?"
"Please do, sire." I curtseyed and found I was no better at it than last time. At least I managed to keep my balance as I rose.
The king smiled and his gaze roamed up and down my length, lingering on all the obvious places. "You're looking as pretty as I remembered."
"Thank you, sire."
"If all doctors were as pretty as you, there'd never be any healthy men to work in the fields or the docks." He chuckled. At my blank look, he added, "Because they'd fake illnesses so the pretty doctors gave them more attention."
I smiled but wasn't sure what to say. Was he flirting with me?
He stretched his hand toward me. "Come closer. You can't check my ribs from there."
I hesitated then took his hand. It was rough and callused. I hadn't expected that. I thought they'd be soft from idleness, but I supposed he hadn't been brought up as a royal. He'd lived an ordinary life before the document proving he was King Alain's grandson was found in the High Temple mere months ago. It explained why he often seemed uncertain in his role and exhibited some very un-kingly traits, like having a local midwife inspect his ribs for fractures.
"Theo, Hammer, you may leave us," the king ordered.
"No," Dane said.
The king arched his brows. "Pardon?"
"Josie has a good reputation to uphold. If it becomes known that she was in here alone with you, that reputation will be ruined. I'll remain."
The king's jaw hardened.
"As will I," Theodore said quickly. "You'll need assistance with your clothing, sire. You can't be expected to dress yourself, naturally."
"Yes. Of course. Well, come here and help me remove my shirt." The king lifted his chin and the valet knelt on the bed to undo the row of gold buttons. The king shrugged out of the shirt and puffed out his chest. I suspected that was for my benefit. He needn't have bothered. I wasn't impressed, puffed out or not. He was a slender man with a paunch that spilled over his waistband and a cluster of dark hair around his belly button and the center of his chest.
"Where does it hurt?" I asked.
"Here." He pointed to his right side. "There's a bruise."
I scrutinized the area and eventually found the bruise. It was no bigger than my thumb.
"It's very painful," he said.
"I'm sure it is." I wasn't about to tell the king that his definition of pain must be different to mine.
"My horse got scared," he said. "Something ran across its path and it reared. You saw it, didn't you, Hammer?"
"No, sire."
The king laughed. "Perhaps we need to get you some spectacles like Balthazar. Anyway, the others riding with us saw the creature. It was some kind of rat, so Lord Villers said. His eyes work perfectly."
"Apparently so," Dane said in a monotone.
Theodore tensed and he shook his head ever so slightly at the captain. The king didn't notice. He simply laughed.
"Hammer's mood is very grim lately, Josie," he said in a theatrical whisper. "You should ignore him as much as possible for your own peace of mind."
"He's not very easy to ignore," I said.
The king's smile vanished. "Don't you need to touch me to check for fractures?"
I gently pressed on the bruise. He sucked air between his teeth. I went to pull away but he grabbed my hand in both of his.
"You missed the area," he murmured. "Here." He pressed my palm to his ribs, over the bruise, and stroked my fingers. "And here." He moved my hand further around to his chest. My fingers touched the patch of hair and recoiled.
"There are no fractures," I said, drawing away.
He pouted. "Are you sure? I don't think you checked thoroughly enough." He went to take my hand again but I clasped his instead.
Now that I'd stopped him in his tracks, I wasn't sure what to do so I bowed over his hand as I stood. "I'll leave you something for the pain. Captain, my bag, please."
Dane had carried my bag from Balthazar's office. He set it down on the foot of the bed and I searched it for the jar of hollyroot ointment. In liquid form such as a tisane, hollyroot gave all-over mild pain relief, but in ointment form, it could be applied topically. The king's bruise required nothing stronger.
I held out the jar to him but he didn't take it. He smiled. Clearly he wanted me to apply it for him.
I dropped a small amount onto my palm and gently rubbed it on the bruise. He did not lie back to make it easy for me, but leaned in so that his nose almost touched my cheek.
"You're pretty," he whispered in my ear. "Prettier than some of the ladies at court. I didn't notice at first, but now I see beyond the drab clothes to the woman."
"You're very kind, sire," I said, as I straightened, "but I'm just a simple midwife."
His hand whipped out and caught my wrist. Dane took a step toward me. "Sire," he said. "You're hurting her."
The king released me. He smiled without humor. "A midwife who aspires to be more, yes?"
"I don't understand," I said carefully.
"It came to my attention that you dressed as a noblewoman and joined in the festivities a few weeks ago."
So Lady Deerhorn had told him she'd seen me that night. I hoped she'd forgotten. "I…I'm sorry, sire," I mumbled. As uncomfortable as his attempts at flirting had been, I wished for that side of him again. I knew how to deflect a man's attentions. A king's ire was entirely different.
"That was at my request," Dane cut in. "I needed someone to walk among the female guests as one of them to detect the poisoner. You'll recall that we weren't aware who it was at the time. Josie offered to do it. If it weren't for her, I'd never have uncovered Lord Frederick."
The king's nostrils flared, and I suspected he didn't believe Dane but either couldn't say so without evidence or didn't want to.
He scooted off the bed and caught my arm. He leaned in and whispered, "If you want more, Josie, I can give it to you. You only have to ask nicely." His gaze slid to the bed. "Very nicely."
My scalp tingled and heat spread across my face.
The king chuckled. "I knew you'd like that idea."
My gaze instinctively lifted to Dane's. His hooded eyes made it impossible to read his face but his shoulders sported the stiffness of barely suppressed anger. If he barked orders at the king the way he barked orders at Brant, he could land himself in trouble. Yet I knew him well enough to know that he wasn't the sort of man to back down when his temper flared.