by C. J. Archer
Both Balthazar and Theodore looked at him in surprise. "Why?" Balthazar asked.
"Because they're the two most senior advisers and noblemen. They should be involved in the process to give it legitimacy."
"But they have a vested interest in the king not marrying either princess," Theodore said.
"It doesn't matter where their interest lies. They should have been invited and they'll be furious when they find out they weren't. It's easier to listen to their so-called advice than placate an angry pair of dukes."
"They would become just as angry when their advice is ignored," Balthazar said. "Angry now or angry later, it's all the same."
"Not unless their advice is proven to be weak and the alternative strong. In this case, no one with Glancia's best interests at heart will think marriage to a Glancian woman is a better alternative than marrying a foreign princess. They'll look greedy and selfish if they continue to push for marriage to a Glancian. Particularly Buxton, since he put forward his niece."
Theodore looked at the closed door to the council chamber. "You have a point, Hammer."
Balthazar merely tapped his finger against his walking stick. After a moment, he said, "What are you going to ask Lord Barborough?"
"Josie will ask the questions," Dane said. "It'll be less suspicious coming from her."
Theodore agreed. "We don't want him thinking we suspect magic is at play here."
"Josie?" Balthazar prompted. "What will you ask?"
"I hope he can give me a copy of his book so I can learn the basics of magical theory," I said. "If not, I suppose I'll ask him about a sorcerer and what he's capable of."
"What about a gemstone?" Theodore asked.
"What about it?" Dane said.
"Will you ask him why a red gemstone seemingly draws on the life force of others?"
I almost corrected him, telling him that it only pulsed in response to those who'd lost their memories, but kept my mouth shut. If Theodore was unaware of that, it meant Dane hadn't told him, and if Dane hadn't told him, he must have reasons.
I watched Balthazar very carefully to gauge his reaction but he showed no sign that he wanted to correct Theodore either. He did, however, seem very interested in my answer.
"I'll mention gemstones in a general sense," I told them.
"Speaking of the gemstone, where is it, Hammer?" Balthazar asked.
"Safe," was all Dane said.
"Why not tell us where?"
"It's safer for you if you don't know. We don't understand its power yet or its significance. If someone comes looking for it, then you can't be forced to give up its location if you don't know it."
"What about you, Hammer? Can't you be forced?"
Dane regarded him coolly. "I am less likely to succumb."
Balthazar's small smile was equally cool. "Are you sure about that? I'm an old man and have nothing to lose. Can you say the same?" He looked to me, catching me unawares. "What other questions will you have for Lord Barborough, Josie?"
It took me a moment to gather my wits. The exchange troubled me. I'd always thought Dane trusted Balthazar, but now I wasn't so sure. And if he didn't trust him, then it only firmed my own opinion.
"I also want to ask if it's possible for magic to make the impossible seem possible," I said.
"I see." Balthazar rubbed his palm over the walking stick head. "Like how an entire palace can appear out of thin air? How almost a thousand people can lose their memory at once?"
I smiled tightly at him. "Nothing so specific. I wouldn't want to alert him to what really happened here. I was thinking more about music and dancing."
"Music and dancing?" Balthazar's brittle chuckle ended in a dry cough.
I laughed too. "Yes, music and dancing. Like what was seen and heard at the revels."
"Ah, yes, I believe you witnessed it. So you enjoyed my little bit of theater?" He leaned forward, pressing heavily on the walking stick. "My little magic tricks?"
Theodore rolled his eyes. "Don't tease her. It wasn't magic, Josie, it was just clever machinations and well-trained acrobats."
"Machinations that no one saw and acrobats that neither arrived nor left the palace," I said.
"Good luck getting a straight answer," Dane muttered.
"No, no," Balthazar said, pushing himself to his feet. "She's right to question my methods. She's clever and inquisitive. I like that." He smiled at me. "But I'm not giving away my secrets."
"And I don't really think he used magic," I told them, smiling back. "If Balthazar could use magic, he'd have made a body for himself that worked perfectly."
Balthazar chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "Clever, inquisitive and witty. Add pretty into the mix and you're in possession of a diabolical combination of characteristics that will either ruin you or elevate you."
That wiped the false smile off my face.
"Don't listen to him," Dane told me. "He's just annoyed because he's old enough to be your grandfather."
"I'm annoyed because my back pains me." Balthazar dug his fingers into his lower back. "And this damned meeting has gone on too long. Theodore, shout 'fire' and let's end it."
Dane laughed softly.
"Balthazar!" Theodore threw up his hands. "I didn't think it possible, but you're even more cantankerous than usual."
Balthazar hobbled past us. "I'm going to my room. Let me know how the meeting turns out."
He got no further than the center of the ante-chamber, stopping directly beneath the domed ceiling as the dukes of Buxton and Gladstow stormed in, Buxton's cape billowing behind him.
"Stay here," Dane said to me.
I slipped behind the open door and watched through the gap.
"Are they in there?" Gladstow stabbed a finger in the direction of the council room.
Balthazar offered a shallow bow. "Yes, your grace."
Theodore stepped forward and bowed too. "His Majesty is in a meeting. If you'd like to wait—"
"I don't wait." Gladstow's face was always bullishly red but it seemed to glow with pent-up fury. If I were his doctor, I'd warn him against explosive fits of temper. At his age, and with his complexion indicating a diet of excess, he could damage his heart.
"Calm down," snapped another man just outside my line of sight. "There's no point getting mad at the help."
Balthazar's nostrils flared.
"You don't tell me what to do either, Buxton," Gladstow snapped back.
The duke of Buxton stepped into view. He wasn't as old as Gladstow. I pegged him to be middle-aged, going by the receding hair and soft jawline. He was shorter too and more slender with a partially hooded right eye that was most likely the result of a childhood disease known as droopy eye. I wondered if he was blind in that eye or if he was one of the lucky few who'd kept his sight. He didn't look quite as angry as Gladstow, but that could have been because the disfigurement gave him a permanently sorrowful expression.
Gladstow strode past Balthazar but Dane blocked his entry to the council room. "You can't go in," he said evenly. "You're welcome to wait." He indicated one of the many stools situated around the perimeter of the room. "Your Grace."
Gladstow drew himself up to his full height but he only came to Dane's chin. That didn't seem to concern him. He seemed quite unperturbed by Dane's superior physical presence. "Get out of my way," he growled.
"No."
Gladstow bristled. He took a moment to answer, as if he were trying to understand how someone could defy him. "I am the duke of Gladstow."
"I know," Dane said. "You're not going in."
The duke of Buxton clicked his tongue. "It's pointless, Gladstow, he's under orders."
"And I am ordering him to move!" Gladstow shouted. "I have every right to be in that meeting!"
"So do I, but I'm not making a scene and blaming the guard."
Gladstow went to charge past Dane, but Dane grabbed his arm and shoved him back. The duke looked as if he'd never been manhandled like that before. He tugged on his cuffs and thrust
out his chin, causing the flesh underneath to shake.
"How dare you!" he spluttered.
Theodore shuffled forward, his hands pressed together. "Apologies, Your Grace. The captain should not have laid a hand on you."
"He should be whipped."
Balthazar went very still. Theodore swallowed heavily and stared down at his feet. Dane looked as if he hadn't heard or didn't care, but I knew better. A vein in his throat pulsed and his breathing became shallower. He was holding his temper in check, but only with considerable effort.
The door behind him suddenly jerked open and he stepped aside. "Enough!" the king snapped. "I'm in an important meeting and we can't hear ourselves over your tantrum, Gladstow."
Gladstow spluttered a protest as he bowed. "We have every right to be in there, sire. As your dukes and chief advisers—"
"You're not my chief advisers." The king indicated a stool. "Wait here until I summon you. Captain Hammer, you have my permission to do whatever is necessary to see that I'm not disturbed."
The king disappeared into the council room with a haughtier look on his face than when he'd emerged.
Gladstow thrust his hands on his hips and marched back and forth across the floor. "Insufferable," he muttered. "Intolerable."
The duke of Buxton swept his cape to the side and lowered himself onto a stool with a flourish. "This isn't so bad," he said cheerfully. "The stool is comfortable enough if one doesn't lean back. Come join me, Gladstow. One gets a different perspective from down here."
Gladstow's top lip curled. I half expected him to snarl like a dog. Buxton merely chuckled at him, clearly enjoying poking the angry bear. There was certainly no love lost between these two. It was no wonder they'd plotted separately to take over the kingdom before King Leon was crowned. It amused the imp in me to see them both here, forced onto the same side yet still unable to get along. They were like two children who fought in the street yet had to team up against a bigger bully.
The door opened again and the duke of Buxton quickly rose. He aborted his bow when he saw that it wasn't the king but another man, carrying a large leather wallet tied with black ribbon.
"My lord Barborough," Dane said in a greeting that I suspected was more for my benefit.
The Vytill representative nodded at the two dukes who nodded politely if stiffly back. He was younger than I expected. I thought he'd be old, but he must have been mid-thirties at the most. He was dressed all in black, his thick brown hair swept off his forehead as if he'd been caught in a strong breeze. I found I couldn't stop staring at his right arm, trying to work out what might be wrong with it. Ruth had said it was useless and it certainly seemed that way, hanging at his side. I wondered if his fingers could move. They were neither withered nor scarred. The healer in me wanted to know the cause of its immobility.
The dukes of Buxton and Gladstow ignored Barborough and strode toward the meeting room door. Lord Barborough put out his left arm, blocking their way.
"His Majesty asked me to inform you both that he's not ready to receive you yet," Lord Barborough said with an apologetic shrug of his good shoulder.
"But the other Glancian advisers are in there," Gladstow blustered.
Lord Barborough merely shrugged again.
The duke of Buxton said nothing but any joviality he'd shown before had vanished. He looked in no mood to sit on a stool again and tease Gladstow.
Lord Barborough left the room, smirking. I emerged from behind the door, but Dane shook his head at me. It would seem he had to stay on guard. Balthazar and Theodore seemed more interested in finding out how the meeting went than questioning the Vytill representative about magic.
I stepped out from the office altogether, cast a glance at Dane and, ignoring another shake of his head, followed Lord Barborough.
"Who are you?" the duke of Buxton called after me. "Guard! Arrest that woman, she was eavesdropping!"
"Eavesdropping on what?" the duke of Gladstow sneered. "Everything important is going on behind that door."
"She's the daughter of the village doctor," Theodore said quickly. "She was attending Balthazar. He has a sore back."
"Where's her father?" Buxton asked. "She can't see patients on her own."
"He just stepped out," I heard Dane say.
It seemed neither duke knew that the local village doctor had died. I thanked Hailia for my good fortune and hurried after Lord Barborough. I didn't want to lose him along with the chance of finding out more about magic.
Yet even though I knew Dane could no longer see me, I felt his glare boring into my back. He had not wanted me to see Barborough alone. Not when he was a suspect in the rape of Ruth.
Chapter 6
Icaught up to Lord Barborough in one of the salons where he'd stopped to talk to another gentleman. I stood demurely behind him and cleared my throat at a suitable lull in the conversation. Both men finally took notice of me, albeit cursorily.
"Yes?" Lord Barborough asked, sounding annoyed. "What is it?"
I bobbed a curtsy. "I heard you wrote a book, my lord. It's on a topic that interests me, and I'd like to discuss it with you, if you have the time."
His heavy lids lifted and he regarded me more thoroughly. "Accompany me into the garden." He gave his bemused companion a nod then led the way out.
We passed through room after room of opulence where lords and ladies conversed in small groups or played cards and games. Few looked up but those who did, frowned and nudged their companion.
"I think this is the way," Lord Barborough said to me as he we headed down a set of marble stairs. "The palace is so large. I lose my way all the time. I'm sure you're used to it, Miss…?"
"Cully. Josie Cully, my lord. No, I'm not used to it. I rarely see this side of it."
He smiled. "I'm sure. What are the service corridors like?"
"Quite dull by comparison. There's a considerable lack of gold."
He laughed softly. He wasn't nearly as stern as I first thought. Perhaps it had been a façade, put on for the benefit of the other gentleman. Or perhaps he was eager to talk about magic.
We headed outside into the sunshine. Lord Barborough paused on the top step and used the height advantage to survey the gardens. Ladies and gentlemen strolled around each of the sections closest to the palace, some stopping to admire the flowers. From where we stood, they looked like exotic dragonflies in their colorful clothes and hats.
"Over there seems the least populated," Lord Barborough said. "We may have to go a fair way from the palace to be alone. You do want to be alone, don't you, Miss Cully?"
"I, er, perhaps if there's a garden where we won't be overheard but we can be seen."
We strode between the twin ponds then turned right. We passed more ponds, gardens and fountains to an avenue that led us further away from the palace. Instead of following it, we detoured onto yet another avenue that dissected a large lawn and led to a gate. I recognized the two guards manning it.
We followed another avenue running alongside the estate's wall until we reached yet more formal gardens partitioned into sections by gravel paths and bordered by chest-high hedges. Lord Barborough indicated I should walk ahead of him through a gap in one of the hedges to the garden beyond. A fountain sprinkled musically in the center, the water reflecting the sunlight in a rainbow of colors. Where many of the gardens closer to the palace displayed flowers, this one was all green. Lord Barborough invited me to sit on the stone bench seat nestled into one of the hedges.
I realized it was a mistake when I sat. I could no longer be seen from the avenue. I went to stand again, but Lord Baroborough sat down too. His smile was kind yet I didn't quite trust it.
"Tell me, Miss Cully," he began. "How did you hear about my book?"
"A woman in the village told me."
He frowned. "How did you know to ask her?"
"She's the widow of a Zemayan, so I hoped she'd know a little about magic from him."
His frown deepened. "Did someone direct you to her?"
"No."
"I'm a little confused. For one thing, I didn't think you were allowed in the village."
"You are confused, my lord. I'm from the village. I live there."
Silence, then, "I thought you were an off-duty palace maid." He looked longingly back toward the palace, as if he wished he'd never walked all this way with me.
"My father believed in magic," I said. "He tried to convince me, but I was skeptical. Until the palace was built, that is."
He set his leather document wallet on his lap then used his left hand to pull his right arm over the wallet to rest there instead of hanging by his side. After he let go, the right arm shifted a little, so he must have some movement in it. I wanted to ask him what had happened but didn't dare.
"If you're not a maid, why are you here?" he said.
"I'm a midwife. One of the maids needed my services."
"You have no bag."
"I left it in her bedchamber while I sought you out." I hadn't thought I'd be so good at lying, particularly to a lord. I even managed to meet his gaze.
He seemed to believe me. "You say you were skeptical about magic before the palace was built, Miss Cully. Does that mean everyone in the village thinks as you do, that magic is involved in its creation?"
"Some do."
"I heard that it appeared quite suddenly and was completed in mere weeks. Is it true that no builders were seen coming or going?"
"It's true. They didn't come through the village. Nor did the building materials."
He nodded slowly. "It certainly seems as though magic had a hand in it, yet it all seems very real to me." He knocked on the bench between us. "Solid stone. The buildings are real and the gardens are growing as gardens ought. The servants are fully functioning humans whose actions would imply they have independent thoughts."
"Is the sorcerer powerful enough to make an illusion look real?"
His lips twitched. "You seem to be under the impression I know the sorcerer personally."
I bit down on my snide retort. "You are an expert, my lord."
"I merely wrote a book on the things I heard in Zemaya. I never saw magic performed, I never met the sorcerer, although it wasn't for lack of searching. It's fifteen years since I was there. I was young at the time, only twenty, although I thought I knew everything there was to know about the world." He leaned closer to me and his gaze, shining with humor, darted across my face before finally settling on my mouth. "Except for magic."
