Chapter 13
Ihesitated in the doorway to the garrison. Brant sat on a chair, his booted feet on the table. Erik and Quentin were there too, which meant a truce had been called. That might be the reason for Brant's sullenness.
"Your eye looks better," I said, closing the door.
He merely glared at me.
"Is the captain around?" I asked.
"He's in a meeting with the king," Quentin said. He offered me a cup of ale that I gratefully took. I drank the lot in one gulp.
Erik laughed and slapped my shoulder. "You drink like a man."
"She was thirsty," Quentin said in my defense. He offered to pour me another but I refused. "What brings you to the palace today, Josie?"
"I have something to discuss with the captain."
"Oh? What?"
"It's a private matter."
Brant snorted. "You're a fool if you believe her. It ain't a private matter, they just don't want us to know why she's here meeting Barborough, the Vytill lord."
So the footman had talked. I doubted it would be kept secret for long, but I wasn't expecting Brant to use the information as a weapon in his argument.
"Enough," Erik growled. "The captain would not keep a secret from us if it was about our memories."
"How do you know? How do any of us know what he's like, or what any of us are like? We don't know ourselves, let alone each other."
"I know you're an arsehole," Quentin muttered. He was far enough away that Brant couldn't hear him, thankfully. Even so, it was reckless. He must be very sure Brant had learned from his punishment and wouldn't attack.
"He's keeping something from us," Brant said, stamping his feet on the floor. "He, Bal, Theo and the king. They know something about our pasts, about why we're here, and it's got to do with that cabinet and what's in it."
If Max had been present, he would have denied it. He would have defended Dane's need for secrecy or claimed the cabinet was just an ordinary cabinet. But he wasn't present, and the others were either too afraid of Brant to defend the captain's actions—or they agreed with him.
From the nods of at least two other guards, I suspected more fell into the latter category than the former.
I, for one, could not let Brant disparage Dane, however. "The captain has your best interests at heart. He would never withhold information if it helps solve the mystery of your missing memories."
"We should decide if it might help, not him," Brant said. "It's our business too, our lives. No one should keep something important from us."
"Not even the king," one of the other guards said. He gave me an apologetic shrug but couldn't quite meet my gaze. He wasn't a supporter of Brant, but he supported Brant's logic.
The sergeant stood and snatched his sword belt from the hook where it hung by the door. "You know where to find me if the captain changes his mind and wants to tell us what's in that cabinet."
I was more relieved than I liked to admit to see him go. If he continued to accuse Dane of withholding information, I might end up saying the wrong thing to defend him—or I might blurt out the truth. Dane thought it safer to keep the gemstone a secret from all but a few, until we knew more about it, but part of me agreed with Brant. The servants deserved to know. What if one of them could shed light on it?
"He is troublemaker," Erik said to the other men. "Do not listen to him."
"He has a point," one said. "If the captain has evidence of something that affects us, we need to know. We need to decide for ourselves if it's relevant."
"Maybe it doesn't affect us," Quentin chimed in. "Maybe what the captain found in that cabinet is just a personal item of the king's, like he said. Why would he lie to us?"
The guard shrugged. "All I know is Brant says he felt the cabinet pulse in his hands, like it was alive or something in it was alive. That's not something Brant would make up. He ain't got the imagination for storytelling."
"That doesn't mean Hammer felt it too," Quentin said. "If he had, he would say so. Wouldn't he, Josie?"
"I don't pretend to know what goes through the captain's mind," I said. "Or why he does or does not do something." It was a cowardly answer, but I could give no other without lying, and I wasn't a very good liar. "Erik, how is the wart?"
My change of topic was met with a frustrated sigh from the guard, but Erik seemed to welcome it. "Smaller," he said, sounding pleased.
"And the heartbroken maids?"
"Their tears are like waterfalls."
Quentin faked a gagging sound. "Enough or I'll throw up."
"You should take advice from Erik," Erik said, tapping his chest. "I sleep with many maids, make them happy. You, little Quentin? How many do you make happy?"
Quentin flushed to the roots of his hair and cast a sideways glance at me. "Plenty."
Erik laughed that deep, rolling laugh of his, and slapped Quentin so hard on the back that Quentin spilled some of his ale. "Ask me if you want advice with maids," Erik said. "Or if you want to share one of mine."
"Erik!" I cried.
He blinked innocently. "What?"
"Be sure to ask the maid first if she would like to be shared with Quentin. Or with anyone. I suspect you might find she prefers exclusivity. Indeed, she probably would prefer it if you were exclusive to her too."
"This is true, but they know I have many maids, and that if they want me they must share."
Dane entered through the internal door and, as I suspected, wasn't surprised to see me. He looked worried, and that worried expression was directed at me. "Come with me, Josie."
I followed him, expecting to be taken to Balthazar's office where we'd talk privately about my meeting with Barborough, but it quickly became apparent we were heading in the wrong direction. When we climbed a flight of stairs, I had a suspicion where we were going but didn't want to ask. There were too many servants within earshot.
"The king wishes to see you," Dane said quietly when we found ourselves alone in a corridor.
"Why?"
He checked behind us, then said, "He wants to discuss the situation in Mull with a local he trusts."
"And you suggested me?"
"I didn't have to. He suggested you himself. When Balthazar told him you were already here at the palace, the king decided it was fortuitous and asked me to fetch you."
"You told Balthazar I was here?"
"He knew. He knows everything that happens within this estate. A rat can't sneeze in the stables without him finding out."
My step slowed and I fell behind.
When Dane realized, he waited for me. "You look worried. There's no need to be. Just answer him truthfully."
"Then why are you worried?" When he didn't answer, and merely set off again at a brisk pace, I caught his arm, halting him. "Tell me, D— Captain."
His gaze met mine. "He says it's your payment for being allowed to come to the palace. He's not happy that you come and go as you please. I had to tell him one of the maids needed medical attention. He wanted specifics so I was forced to tell him about the rape. I can't lie to the king."
"Was he satisfied with that explanation?"
"He was, in a way."
"What does that mean?"
He dismissed my question with a shake of his head. "The point is, he knows you've been here lately. Someone is informing him, most likely Lady Morgrave."
My heart sank. "Lady Morgrave is becoming influential."
"The more time he spends with her, the deeper he falls under her spell. For now, we've managed to explain your presence and undermine the Deerhorns' campaign against you."
"I don't understand why they care what I do."
"In the past, it probably wasn't specific to you, but what you represent—a village girl allowed into their domain. By going to the ball, Lady Deerhorn assumed you had pretensions above your station."
I scoffed. "That's ridiculous."
"Not to her and people like her. They think they were born special, and you fitting into their world undetected goes against those beliefs. But like I said, that was before. Lady Deerhorn's dislike of you specifically probably intensified after you refused to spy for Lord Xavier."
That made sense but it was also more troubling. Given time, she would have forgotten her campaign against me, as Dane called it, if it were just a matter of being annoyed by a village girl with pretensions. Now she must worry that I would tattle on her son to the duke of Gladstow himself.
We exited the servants' corridor through a hidden door in the wall of an antechamber, one of the many rooms that made up the complex of the king's apartments. The room contained a throne covered in crimson velvet, the king's personal insignia of two entwined Ls embroidered onto the backrest in gold thread. There was nowhere else to sit, just a vast expanse of blue and white tiled floor with the Lockhart coat of arms in the middle. It must be a room for the king to receive his closest confidants in a formal setting, rather than the council chamber or the informal sitting room beyond.
We passed through the sitting room to a games room, set out with round tables, then into a long dining room with a table set for at least thirty, followed by a smaller chamber whose function I couldn't discern, and finally a library then an office. All rooms were opulently furnished and guarded by Dane's men.
The office's proportions were intimate compared to the others we'd just passed through. The king must work on his most private tasks here, and perhaps meet with his closest, most trusted advisors. It was strange to think that I was one of them.
The king sat behind a large desk that made him look small. It was mostly bare except for a few papers laid out before him, a gilded inkstand and writing implements, candlesticks and an hourglass dripping sand. He did not look up as he dipped the pen in the ink then set it to the paper. His moment's hesitation caused a small blob of ink to bloom before he neatly signed his name.
Theodore accepted the document and placed it with the others at the edge of the desk. "Captain Hammer and Joselyn Cully are here, sire," he announced, as if the king hadn't seen us.
I curtseyed and Dane offered a small bow. A movement beyond the corner of my eye caught my attention. Balthazar sat on a chair by the door, both hands clasped over the head of his walking stick. I nodded at him and he nodded back.
"Do you know why you've been summoned, Miss Cully?" the king asked with a regal thrust of his chin in my direction.
"The captain informed me that I am to answer any questions you have about Mull, sire. Thank you for the trust you put in me. I am at your service."
"Good. What do you know of the dissenters?"
The abrupt question caught me off guard. Dane had said I shouldn't be worried about answering truthfully, but the king was clearly annoyed, and if he knew I had been friends with Ivor Morgrain for all my life, he might think me on their side. On the other hand, I didn't want to see Ivor and the others get in serious trouble. Not even Ned.
"They're just ordinary village men," I said. "Ned Perkin appears to be the leader, and I'll admit that he has a certain reputation for drinking and causing headaches for the sheriff." I held my breath, hoping he wouldn't ask about anyone else. It was one thing to cause Ned problems, and quite another to bring the king's wrath down on families like the Swinsons.
"I've been informed that the rioters are upset over Mull's population increase," the king said. "Is that what you believe too?"
"They weren't rioters." At the sudden flare in his eyes, I swallowed and added, "Your advisers are right, and the villagers are worried they'll lose their jobs to the newcomers from Vytill. Food has become expensive, and rents are rising. Some will be forced out of their homes and many already struggle to feed their families."
"That is a shame, but it's the way of the world. What do they expect me to do about it?"
Theodore exchanged a glance with Dane.
"They expect you to intervene, sire," Balthazar said without rising from his chair.
"Do they expect me to conjure up food? Housing?" The reference to magic cut close to the bone, and I suspected the king realized too late. He shifted in the chair, slumping into the corner, and nibbled on his thumb nail.
"This is perhaps a matter for your advisers," Theodore said quickly. "Shall I organize a meeting?"
"My advisers are hopeless and selfish." The king flicked his hand in a dismissive wave. "They fight amongst themselves and make decisions to benefit them, not the kingdom."
"That's not entirely true," Balthazar said.
I held my breath as the king glared at him. Balthazar met the glare with his own steady one, and it was the king who looked away first.
"Some of your advisers are good men," Dane said. "It's a matter of knowing which ones and listening to them."
"And weighing up their suggestions," Theodore added.
The king rubbed his temples. "I want to hear your suggestions. I know you have some. You three always do." I couldn't tell if he spoke sarcastically or not.
"You have a few options." Balthazar paused as if expecting the king to tell him to keep his opinions to himself, but the king remained quiet. It seemed he hadn't been sarcastic at all, and he did indeed put more stock in the suggestions made by these three than his own ministers. "You could close the border to outsiders," Balthazar said.
The king shook his head. "Vytill has been a rich country because it had a lot of people. Now those people want to move here, which will make Glancia rich."
Balthazar shook his head and Theodore and Dane exchanged another glance. "That's not why Vytill is rich," Balthazar said. "It became rich because its port was important to the entire peninsula. All trade routes on The Fist led to Port Haven, so traders had to pass through Vytill to reach it. With Port Haven's influence ended, Vytill must now rely on its mines for income. I don't know how profitable those mines are, but it's a surety that the kingdom will grow poorer by the day."
"If I may, sire," I said.
"Yes, Miss Cully."
"I spoke to a Vytill family yesterday. They told me they came here to find a better life but, so far, have found only worse. It's not just Mull villagers who are suffering but the Vytill migrants. They can't get jobs and they have no money."
"And I say again, what do they expect me to do?" the king asked. "I can't create the jobs for them, and I can't pay them to do nothing. They're not my people. I shouldn't have to feed them."
"They are your people now," Dane said.
The king sighed heavily and rubbed his temples again. "This is giving me a headache."
"It's clear there needs to be a short term solution to prevent starvation," Balthazar said, "and a long term plan to provide employment."
"Oh, really?" the king said with a roll of his eyes. This time there was no doubt he spoke sarcastically. "So far I am not hearing solutions, only a restatement of the problems. And no, closing the border isn't a solution. The people of The Fist should be allowed to move between countries if they wish, if they pay a nominal fee."
"There are better solutions," Dane said, "but they'll require sacrifice."
"Who by?"
"You, and the other nobles."
The king pushed to his feet and strode to the window. He rested his hands on the sill and stared down at the gardens below. "It's a beautiful day. I should be out there with my friends, not stuck in here doing paperwork."
"You're not doing paperwork," Dane said. "You're discussing ways to save your people from starvation."
The king shot Dane a flinty glare over his shoulder. "You'll speak to me without that tone, thank you, Hammer. You've already angered me once today, by neglecting your duty, don't add to the tally."
Neglecting his duty?
"Sire," Dane said icily.
"You want to be a good king, don't you, sire?" Theodore asked quickly. "Isn't that how you'd like to be remembered?"
The king sat back in the chair again and clasped his hands over his stomach. "Let me hear your suggestions."
"Offer food from your own gardens and allow villagers to hunt in your forests in low numbers," Balthazar said. He spoke smoothly, and neither Dane nor Theodore seemed surprised by his suggestion. I suspected they'd already discussed it. "The grand huntsman can monitor wildlife numbers and stop the hunts if the animal populations dwindle too much. We see this as a temporary measure only, sire."
The king glanced between all three, as if he too suddenly realized they'd already discussed this among themselves. His lips pressed together. "No. Absolutely not. A king must have his own land. He must have food aplenty to feed everyone at the palace."
"You don't need to have all the nobles here," Dane said. "Send them home. Let them feed themselves from their own lands."
"But I like having them here," the king whined. He chewed on his nail again. "What else do you suggest?"
Dane's shoulders tensed and Theodore's gaze drifted to the ceiling. The knuckles gripping the head of Balthazar's walking stick turned white.
"In the longer term," Balthazar went on in an even tone, "you could generate employment through capital works."
"What's that?"
"Building roads, municipal buildings, that sort of thing. If Mull becomes the administrative center of Glancia, then it will need better paved roads, good bridges, bigger buildings, a proper market."
The king's fingers tapped lightly on the desk as he thought, and his lips twisted this way and that. "I do see merit in your suggestions, but what if I need to raise an army only to find I've spent all my money on buildings and roads that may never be needed? Glancia doesn't have a proper army and it should, as it becomes more important. King Phillip has an army."
"You won't need to fight Vytill if you marry the Princess Illiriyia," Theodore said.
"Don't, Theo," the king barked. "I'm tired of hearing her name."
Theodore bowed his head. "Apologies, sire."
"Hammer, tell me, does Dreen have an army?"
"A small one," Dane said. "A Glancian army could be formed if the need arose, but there's no evidence that one is needed, sire. Besides, most of the nobles have well-trained retainers and arms that we can call on in the event of trouble. There are also fifty warrior priests in Tilting at your disposal."
"That isn't enough. Besides, they're dedicated to Merdu, not me. The king of what will become The Fist's most important kingdom should have his own dedicated army." He heaved a sigh and looked longingly at the window. "What do the people want me to do, Miss Cully? I'd like to hear your suggestions."
"Me?" I'd felt like a fly on the wall for most of the meeting as the men discussed matters that had nothing to do with me. I thought the king had forgotten about me.
"Yes, you. You're my window to the world of Mull and the common people." He must have liked how that sounded because he smiled. "So tell me, what do the people think should be done?"
"It depends on who you talk to," I said carefully. "First and foremost, they want better law enforcement. If the sheriff employs more men, and arrests are made, the Vytill migrants who are getting drunk and starting fights will know there are consequences to their actions, and the Glancian dissenters won't be so eager to get rid of them if they see justice is served."
"That's already being implemented." He looked pleased. "Good. Then it's settled."
"There's more," I said quickly, lest Dane, Theodore and Balthazar think I didn't like their suggestions.
"That will do for now. Better law enforcement is vital, not just for Mull but for the entire kingdom. An army can be used in domestic situations too, like in last night's riot. Thank you, Miss Cully, you've been very helpful."
"But—"
"Speaking of the sheriff, what do you know about him?"
I swallowed what I was going to say with great difficulty. It galled me that he thought I'd been suggesting law enforcement as the only necessary solution, but he didn't want to hear the truth from me. I doubted he wanted to hear it from his men either, but at least they were paid to speak honestly. My presence at the palace was too precarious to push too hard.
"He's a good man," I said.
"And the governor?"
I hesitated.
"Go on, Miss Cully."
"He's your man, sire."
"I know that, but I asked what you think of him. Does he do a good job, in your opinion and that of other Mullians?"
I glanced at Dane, and he gave a barely perceptible nod of encouragement. "The governor isn't well liked or respected by the villagers," I said.
The king frowned. "Really? That's not what I heard."
No doubt Lady Morgrave had whispered something in his ear to the opposite effect. The governor was, after all, firmly in her family's pocket. "You asked me what the villagers thought of him, sire," I said. "I can only speak on their behalf."
His fingers tapped on the desk to an erratic beat. "He's in a difficult position. I can't imagine he has easy decisions to make. Much like a king, only on a smaller scale. You understand, Miss Cully?"
"I do, sire, but there are stories of his corruption, of him making decisions to benefit a few, rather than the many."
"Perhaps those were the best decisions for the village. Thank you, Miss Cully, that will be all. The rest of you may leave too. I have a headache and wish to lie down. Theo, come back later and help me dress for a stroll in the garden. Inform Lady Morgrave that I wish to walk with her."
I curtseyed and the men bowed themselves out of the room. Dane shut the door and jerked his head for us to follow him.
In deference to Balthazar's limp, we made our way slowly down to his office near the garrison. No one spoke except to greet the palace servants we passed in the corridors. It was as if a bubble enveloped us, growing ever larger with each step until it was so big it must burst.
The bubble lasted until we made it to Balthazar's office. Dane was the one to wield the pin that popped it. "He thinks the treasury is his personal coffer," he muttered, closing the door.
Balthazar stamped the end of his walking stick into the floor with each step. "And that the role of king requires nothing more than dressing well and attending balls."
"That's not true, Bal, and you know it," Theodore said, holding a chair out for me. "He's trying to be a good king. You've heard him say he wants to be a good king."
"That was months ago. And he's not trying hard enough."
"Shhh. Lower your voice."
Balthazar huffed out a breath. "I'm old. I don't know why I bother trying to make him a better king and Glancia a better place. I'll be dead before any plans are fully implemented, even if he starts a major capital works programs tomorrow."
"Perhaps it's something in your past that drives you to care about the kingdom," I said.
The Master of the Palace narrowed his gaze at me. "Is that your professional opinion or do you just like stating the obvious?"
"Bal!" Dane snapped. "Don't take your frustration out on her, or anyone."
"I blame your age, Balthazar," I shot back. "And that is both my professional opinion and a statement of the obvious."
The wrinkles in Balthazar's brow flattened and the ones around his eyes deepened. My retort had almost earned me a smile.
"Give the king time," Theodore said as he lowered himself onto the other chair, "he just needs to think about what we said today, to weigh up his options."
"For how long?" Balthazar asked. "And what if he makes a foolish decision?"
Dane was the only one with an answer to that question, and it came in the form of a cup of strong wine from a jug on the sideboard. He handed it to Balthazar and rested his hand on the old man's shoulder. "We can only do so much. Trust that he'll make the right decision."
Balthazar grunted as he accepted the cup. "You have more faith than I do, Hammer."
"He's a good man, deep down. He's just overwhelmed. Like Theo said, he needs to think about it for a while, then present the options to the advisors as if they were his own."
"Everything's black and white for you."
Dane poured more wine and handed a cup to me and another to Theodore. "I sense an insult coming, but go on."
"You see people as either good or bad, but I think people can be both. Indeed, I think everyone has capacity for both good and bad, right and wrong."
"I agree," I said. "Take Ivor and Ned, for example, and the Swinsons. They're essentially good people who've been driven to make trouble. Fear is powerful. It can change people."
Dane shook his head. "If they're essentially good, they'll stop themselves from going too far. So time will tell if that's the case or not."
"I know my friends, Captain."
"She does," Theodore cut in before Dane could respond again. "She also knows more about human character than we do. What do we know about our own characters, let alone those of others we've never met?" It was so similar to what Brant had said in the garrison that I wondered if Theo had been listening in.
"I'm willing to concede I might be wrong," Dane said, lifting his cup in salute.
"Gracious of you," Balthazar said. Theodore, ever the peacemaker, seemed pleased with Dane's concession, however.
"Josie, how did your meeting with Lord Barborough go?" Balthazar asked.
Before I could answer, Dane cut in, "You should have waited for me. I wanted to be nearby if you needed me."
"Barborough is not a danger," I told him. "At least not a physical one. He is certainly dangerous in other ways—if he talks to the king about our discussions."
"If he does, the king will believe the three of us over him. You won't have to worry about that."
Theodore nodded. Balthazar merely looked annoyed at the interruption. "The meeting, Josie. What did he say?"
"I fed him the false information we made up, but it wasn't enough to satisfy him," I said. "He wanted more. He did, however, give me a piece of information about the sorcerer in exchange."
They all leaned forward.
"The sorcerer gives three wishes to the one who frees him. Before you ask, he did not tell me what the sorcerer is freed from. Whatever it is, must be difficult to find. There's been no evidence of magic performed anywhere on The Fist or Zemaya in a thousand years."
"Until now," Dane said to the ceiling where, one level above, the king was resting.
The other two men did not attempt to defend the king. It would seem they were all in agreement and suspected the king was involved in the palace's creation.
Theodore wagged his finger. "It may not have been difficult to find the sorcerer's prison. It could be quite ordinary so no one realized it contained a sorcerer, like a simple cottage."
"Blending in is a good way to disguise oneself," Dane agreed.
"Or the door could have a complicated lock," Theodore added.
Balthazar grunted. "Not if Leon could open it."
Theodore hushed him with a finger to his lips and a glance at the door.
"He could have stumbled upon the key," Dane said.
"Do you think the gemstone is the housing for the sorcerer?" Balthazar asked. "The so-called prison?"
The breath left my body in a rush. I hadn't thought of that, and by the stunned look on Theodore's face, he hadn't either. Either Dane was better at schooling his features or he had considered it already.
"If it is, all the more reason to keep it from the king," he said. "We have to assume he hasn't used all his wishes yet. He could be biding his time until the need arises."
Balthazar's theory about the gem made sense. The king had reacted with irrational anger when the cabinet containing it was touched. "If the sorcerer is inside the gemstone, wouldn't the king want to keep it close?" I asked.
"He asked for the cabinet to be put somewhere safe," Dane said. "He knows I could hide it better than him, with his every step scrutinized by the visiting nobles."
"Where is it?" Balthazar asked. "Are you going to tell us?"
Dane shifted his weight from foot to foot then finally nodded. "In the cottage at the north western corner of the estate. The cottage is empty and is too far away from the palace for the nobles to bother going there. I buried it in the garden."
"Good. Keep it there until he asks for it."
"Thank you," Theodore said with a flat smile for Dane. "We'll keep the knowledge of its whereabouts safe."
"That was never my concern," Dane said. "It was your safety I was trying to protect, not the cabinet itself."
"What will you do if the king asks for it back?" I said. "What if he wants to see the gemstone?"
Balthazar's wrinkles folded into a smug smile. "Hopefully, by then, the jeweler in Tilting I commissioned to make a replica will have completed his task. He's due to bring it soon."
I couldn't help my own smug smile from spreading. "Very clever."
"I'm sure I don't need to impress upon you how important it is to keep this information private, Josie," Balthazar said.
"You know you don't," Dane said.
"Bal," Theodore chided. "She's one of us, in a way. She won't tattle."
"I won't," I promised. "But I do think you need to tell the servants something. Brant can't keep his mouth shut. He and several others are angry that you're not sharing information about the cabinet with them. You have dissenters in the village, but I don't think you want them in the palace too."
"I disagree," Balthazar bit off, as if it were my fault that Brant couldn't keep his mouth shut. "We don't have proper answers yet, and talk of magic will only cause fear and panic among the staff."
Dane shook his head. "Josie's right. Let me address a few of my men."
Balthazar threw his hands in the air. "Then you'll be responsible for them and their actions, Hammer, not me."
"You underestimate them, Bal," Theodore said. "They're smart enough to know when to keep quiet."
I rather thought Balthazar was underestimating Dane. He was smart enough to know how much of the truth to feed Brant and which lies to weave through it.