Memory of Morning

by Susan Sizemore

  "I now call an officer who has read this subversive book." Mr. Lark looked dramatically toward the witness door. It was a dramatic moment, where almost everyone in the court seemed to hold their breath. Everyone but me. I knew what was coming. Who, rather.

  Lord North strode in wearing a deep red coat, a gray and silver brocade waistcoat, and white trousers. It added color to the black proceedings, done deliberately, I was certain. His wavy brown hair brushed the high collar of his coat, softening his sharp features, and hinting that he was going back to sea.

  More importantly, his lack of uniform showed he did not consider this naval business. Whether he came as ally, well, with Lord North I was never sure of his reasons. He'd done nothing but confuse me since the day we met. And saved my life, twice.

  Perhaps he had grown sick and tired of being my inadvertent guardian spirit and he was here to speak against me.

  Wait a moment - he'd read my book?

  Embarrassment more knee-knocking than the fear burned through me. He hates it, I thought desperately, wanting to howl. It's silly and childish and he's going to scoff... And why on earth was Adrew Osprey, Lord North's opinion more important to me - even at this dire moment - than anything else in the world?

  Lord North moved to the witness box, then looked directly at me. "Dinna fash yesel', gel," he said. His north island accent was so thick I wasn't sure any of the words were even in Angish.

  I had no idea what he meant.

  Obviously, Mr. Lark didn't either. "Would you repeat that, Lord North?"

  He gave Lark a look down that long nose of his. "No."

  The prosecutor found it more prudent to let the subject go. He thanked North for answering the witness summons, then he read off Lord North's full name and string of titles. After that he gave the high noble a respectful bow. A nod was returned.

  All this politeness made me want to laugh. It did not help that Lord North cut a quick look toward me that told me he wanted to laugh as well. Or so I imagined.

  "Lord North, you are the person who brought the seditious activities of Megere Cliff to the attention of the Committee of Grace, are you not?"

  What?

  I had to bite my tongue to keep from shouting the word at North. I saw his faint wince, as though he'd heard it despite my silence.

  "How did I manage to do that?" North questioned back.

  Lark did not point out that he was the one asking the questions, but politely answered, "You attended a Committee of Grace questioning of Dr. Cliff's religious teachings."

  "I attended the Gracer," North answered. "That was the first I knew of this committee's activities. I wanted to find out why these clerics were pestering people in my navy."

  "You questioned Dr. Cliff yourself on her family's financial dealings."

  "I was asked to do that by the College of Heralds. It was simply part of the usual enquiry before elevation to the nobility. The family was elevated, you know."

  I realized that I had crossed my arms while I listened to Lord North's explanations. I carefully lowered them to my side. As I did, I noticed that the woman at the prosecution table was watching me, and was trying to hide a smile. I looked back at Lord North.

  "You informed Lord Goshawk of the existence of Darnin Clover."

  "I did? I do not recall doing any such thing."

  "You mentioned the book to Lady Cobalt," Lord Goshawk spoke up. "Lady Cobalt is my liaison with the Committees of Grace. She reports evidence of sedition to me. Therefore, Lord North, I was informed of this danger to the Empire through you."

  Lord North cocked his head thoughtfully. "I don't think-- Ah, I might have mentioned that a navy surgeon had written a novel, and that'd I'd felt called upon as my duty to read the manuscript when the doctor's voyage papers were examined. It was only an excuse to the Cobalt woman about why I hadn't been spending time with her."

  "When you read this manuscript, what was your opinion of it, Lord North?"

  "I'm told the published version is a stronger story, but I found the shipboard details more accurate than other naval adventure tales I've read to my son."

  "What did you think of the actions and fate of the lead character of this book, Lord North?" Lark tried.

  "I think he was a bit soppy pining so much over the girl he wanted. He should have taken the gunnery girl up on her offer to bed him like any real sailor would have. As for his actions and fate, well, it's just a story isn't it? It didn't happen." He looked around, and leveled his gaze at Lord Goshawk. "What are you people fussing about? Really?" A naval aide came in and whispered to Lord North. He turned back to Goshawk. "I asked a friend to join me today. He wants to asks you some questions," he added.

  He was smiling. It was a very unpleasant smile. I liked it.

  Lord Goshawk's skin went red with anger, from the top of his bald head all the way down his throat. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to bellow.

  The witness door opened before he got a sound out.

  The Emperor walked in.

  Everyone stood. Everyone bowed and curtsied deeply, gazes lowered.

  "Enough!" the Emperor's shout filled the room.

  There was not a person there who did not stand up and stare at him. I had to grab hold of the podium rail, because I would have fallen if I hadn't. Because there was no stopping my knees from turning to jelly this time. My heart still tried to pound out of my chest, even when I realized the Emperor hadn't yelled at me. He wasn't looking at me.

  The Emperor of the Ang Empire was glaring at his chief judge. Blazing anger seemed to come off him in a heat wave. Marqs Shield was a very big man, tall and wide-shouldered and hard-muscled. Right now he looked like he could tear down the walls of the building, heave down the marble statues, tear up the high bench bare-handed. And all he was doing was standing there, radiating power. I wouldn't have been surprised if his bright eyes couldn't burn holes where he looked.

  There wasn't a sound in the courtroom. I know I held my breath. Everything waited our sovereign's pleasure.

  "Enough," he repeated. His tone was dangerously calm this time. "I am to blame for this - but Goshawk, you have taken it too far."

  Goshawk wasn't the sort to stay in shock, or quiet, for very long. "Surely, Sire, you can blame yourself for nothing. Your suggestions were completely--"

  "Taken and run with to your advantage. You are the one who staffed the Committees of Grace. You are the one who urged them on to narrower and narrower readings of our ancient doctrines. I hoped for a reminder and rebirth of our traditions when I authorized the committees. I was not seeking to strangle my people with them! I gave you and your followers the weapon that you have used against my people."

  "Sire, I--"

  He shut up when the Emperor pointed at him, but Goshawk's mouth flapped like a landed fish a few times.

  "Surely you knew what you were risking - that you had gone too far - when you picked this woman as one of your targets?"

  Why?

  The Emperor looked at me. "My apologies, Dr. Cliff. You are free to go."

  "But--"

  He turned his anger back on Goshawk.

  While the Emperor continued to speak to the judge, I was surrounded by a trio of clerics. The same folk who had been sneering at me a few minutes ago were now attempting to look concerned and helpful. A pair of them took my arms and turned me, gently. They also took the Emperor's words that I was free to go seriously. They pushed and prodded. I was torn, wanting to stay and find out why I'd been chosen by Goshawk. I also wanted to get away from him, from this situation and these people as soon as possible. I was urged to move by these helping hands, and it didn't take me but a moment to decide.

  I wanted out.

  I wanted my family!

  I shook off the clerics and hurried out the nearest door. I found myself in a bright hallway. In the distance, a man was shouting.

  "I am calm, madam. Bring me to my daughter and I shall be even calmer. Even, better, bring her to me this instant!"

/>   I ran, passing through bars of sunlight flooding in from the tall windows that lined one side of the hall.

  "Daddy!" I cried when I saw him. He held out his arms and I ran into them, needing the safety of his tight embrace. "Take me home," I begged as I started to cry. I no longer cared about anything else. "Just take me home."

  Chapter Forty-Four

  We might have gone back to the house if Father hadn't brought Star with him. She jumped into my arms as soon as the coach door opened. He told me that he thought she'd be a comfort to me when he found me, and she certainly was.

  I snatched her tight and jumped into the deeply upholstered seat. As she licked my face, I said, "I cannot stay in this mad city one more night. Day. Hour."

  "If that is what you want, my dear. But your mother will want to see you. You'll need your bag."

  "I want to go now."

  "I will not have childish pouting from one of my offspring."

  I glared at him over Star's head. "I have barely escaped being sent to a prison island. Spoil me, just this once!"

  I do not believe it was my words that decided him, but the near-hysterical way in which I said them.

  We did not return to the rental palace. The most I would let Father do before we absconded with Uncle Eadum's coach was send a note to Mother saying all was well.

  I added a postscript that Belladem, or anyone else, should not be angry with Dwie for doing his duty.

  "A girl who cares about clothes as much as you leaving your wardrobe behind?" he said. "How badly did those fools treat you in there, my dearest?"

  "They've made me - maybe the whole Empire - part of some power game between the Emperor and his courtiers," I said. "That's as much as I could make out, at least. I think it's over now, but..." I shook my head. "They're mad folk. Everyone in this city is mad. I'd run naked down the Great Road if I had to to get away from their dangerous games. Except for shoes," I added. I started to sniffle. "I can't imagine running on a road without shoes on."

  "Practical, as ever."

  I began to cry in earnest.

  And I didn't stop, either. I held Star tightly and got her fur wet with the tears that took out weeks and weeks of nerves, frustration, fear, confusion, heartache, and fury. And I'd thought I'd been melancholy earlier in the day! Melancholy was a small, weak emotion compared to everything that poured out of me as the coach bumped, lurched, then began to run along the smooth highway once out of the city. My father wisely stayed in the seat opposite me and allowed me to have an old-fashioned, Cliff screaming in the woods fit.

  I did not know when the transition from crying to sleeping came, but when I woke up my father was seated beside me. His arm was around me and my head rested on his shoulder. Outside, it was dusk.

  "Well," he said when I lifted my head, "I hope that was enough to last you for the next few years."

  My head ached, my face was sticky, and I could barely open my burning, swollen eyes. "I hope so too, sir."

  I could make out a few houses on both sides of the road in the twilight. The coach was slowing down.

  "We're coming up to Merrymere," Father said. "I am assured there is a fine inn in the village. And shops. You'll be wanting shops in the morning, I expect."

  I left him blissfully unaware of how there were times on board the Moonrunner when I'd had to live in the same clothes for days on end. A night of sleeping in my shift and wearing the same dress and stockings the next day would be no hardship.

  "Yes, sir," I said, because I did like to shop.

  It was a fine inn, with a fine cook. And a bathing suite, besides. By the time I went to bed that night I was beginning to feel as if my life could go on. By the time I woke the next morning, I knew where I wanted to take my life to.

  "I think it would be best for you to return to Loudon," I told Father over breakfast. "I'll take a public coach and go on by myself."

  He fed Star a bite of sausage before he said to me, "Your mother will be happy to join us in Avan. She and I have to start preparing for first term, anyway. Besides, I'm sure she would wish to help me with a small project I have in mind."

  "What's that?"

  "To beat the living water out of our so-called friend, Ydre Diamond."

  I did not attempt to discourage him from remonstrating with Professor Diamond on my behalf. If I was making directly for Avan I would gladly have joined in and boxed the troublesome writing teacher's ears myself.

  "I've decided that I really don't want the peace and quiet of home. I need to work. So, I plan to take the coach to Seyemouth and start my naval assignment early."

  He looked at me worriedly for a bit. "You aren't going to sign up for a ship assignment are you? You haven't decided that's what you want to do?"

  I shook my head. "I plan to work on the base at Seyemouth, or whatever base I'm assigned to. It could be overseas at some point," I added. "But probably not yet. Not with the truce and all."

  The worry lines on his brow smoothed out a bit. "Keep Eadum's carriage," he said. "I'll go on to Avan, and send for your mother." He sighed, and stretched out his arms. "It will be good to go home."

  I reached across the table to touch his hand when he reached for his teacup. "I am sorry this Season has worked out so - ridiculously."

  "Nonsense. Any time the family gets to spend together is far from ridiculous."

  I left it at that, and took him up on his offer of the private coach. He insisted I accompany him to the town's only dressmaker and she provided me with a simple made-up dress and a nightrail. This, along with procuring some tooth powder and other toiletry items, satisfied Father that I was respectable enough to be allowed to travel alone. He gave me most of the money from his pocket case and boarded the afternoon public coach for Avan.

  When the driver dropped me off outside the contractors' dormitory at the Seyemouth base, I sent the coach back to Loudon with a message to send my medical bag to me. A few minutes later I wished I had not been so quick to bid the driver goodbye. I was informed that since my duties did not begin for another month I was not allowed to claim a room. When I checked at the medical facilities, I was told to return when I had clearance to come to work. I offered to volunteer my services, but they said the workload was light enough that no volunteers were needed. Apparently the truce had put me out of work, for now.

  Disconcerted by not being wanted, I went to the ferry docks and enquired about boats leaving for Welis. I would visit my mother's home island. It had been several years and I thought it would be nice to spend some time as a visitor, taking in some of the lovely scenery Welis was so famous for.

  No luck there, either. I was told I had arrived two hours after the Welis ferry sailed, and there would not be another days. I thought this was odd, as the ferry had sailed daily through all the years my family had taken it to reach Mother's home island. I was told that the Framin navy was conducting war games just beyond the territorial limit agreed to during the truce. Our government wasn't protesting this, but civilian ships were being sent in guarded convoys. There wouldn't be another one heading for Welis for at least three days. I was told to check back when more ships had gathered in the harbor.

  I went back to the river side of town and walked down to the navy docks. Only to discover that the Moonrunner was berthed farther upriver, being loaded with supplies at the main depot. I guessed Captain Copper would soon be back on board to take out his freshly refitted ship. Or perhaps he was due for a new command. This thought came to me when I saw the ship anchored out in the deepest channel of the Seye.

  A passing sailor noticed me staring, and paused to ask, "May I be of help, miss? Are you lost? Shall I find an officer to see you back to the--?"

  "What is that ship?" I asked. "Is that one of the new cruiser class I've heard about?"

  He continued to look puzzled at a civilian woman in navy territory, but smiled proudly when he followed my gaze out to the big ship in the distance. "Aye, Miss. She's the Ironbound. Down from the northern shipyards for her sha
kedown runs."

  "Will you look at the gunports on her?" I counted rows of cannon ports going down for five decks, and that didn't count the spaces on the main deck that would take eight and twelve pounders. I whistled. "I'd heard three cruisers had been commissioned. What's her name again?"

  "Ironbound, Miss, though she's as much pine and oak as any other ship. Some are calling her the Ironbottom," he confided. Then he blushed at having spoken so to a lady.

  "It's all right," I told him, "I'm a ship's surgeon. I'm just out of uniform."

  He relaxed, gave me a salute, and went on his way. I was left wondering why I'd told him I was something I was not. Or, at least not yet. I did not belong on the base right now, so I too went on my way.

  Fortunately, Mrs. Lilac did have a room available when the dog and I showed up at her guest house. I settled in to wait. It wasn't just for the ferry, or for a chance to get to work. I was waiting for something to begin, for a change that was coming. I felt dread on my skin, in my bones. But I did not want to think about what lay ahead might be. And there was hot longing in me as well which I tried so very hard to ignore. Longing in my heart, burning on my skin and deep in the core of me. I would not try to define it. I would not even believe in it. I did not particularly want to think at all, as I also had to fight pining over things as I imagined they could be. That's the problem with having a story-telling turn of mind, it is twisty and sneaky and must be beaten down firmly if one is to remain a sensible being in the real world.

  As for the state of the world, I ignored reading any news circulars.

  I went for long walks with Star. I shopped at the dressmaker's. I purchased double-pointed knitting needles and some lovely purple bamboo and cotton sock yarn. I bought two new leather-bound notebooks, a new pen, and a box of thin glass vials of ink to go into the pen. I was ready to write. I sat under a tree in Mrs. Lilac's peaceful garden one afternoon with doves cooing in branches overhead and the harsher call of gulls circling from over the bay. I had a notebook open in my lap, the pen in my left hand, but no words were ready to come out yet. So, late in the afternoon I walked back into the house, ready for biscuits and a cup of tea. At least Mrs. Lilac could provide something darker and stronger than mint now that the blockade had been withdrawn.