Ammey McKeaf

by Jane Shoup

  “I did no such thing,” Marko declared, but he looked disturbed and confused.

  “You did,” Zino said. He turned to Mehr. “Perhaps you remember?”

  “I was here?” Mehr asked calmly, although his heart had begun beating faster. “When he gave the order?”

  “I believe you were, yes. As was Salvo.”

  Mehr looked thoughtful, but what he truly felt was hopeful that Zino had finally signed his own death warrant. One could only get away with so many lies. “I heard no such thing. When was this?”

  Zino frowned and shook his head. “Perhaps it was before you arrived. If we could call Salvo in, I’m sure it could be verified.”

  “So now you don’t recall if I was present or not?” Mehr asked, careful to keep his voice neutral. He was fully aware that he’d been offered a test of loyalty and had failed in Zino’s eyes.

  “We were all drinking rather heavily,” Zino said.

  “Something we are all well accustomed to,” Mehr replied coolly.

  “I said no such thing,” Marko repeated as he stood.

  “Why would I lie?” Zino appealed. “You signed the warrant of execution.” He pulled it from his belt and handed it over.

  “Which you brought along with you,” Mehr said. “Did you suspect he would not remember signing it?”

  Zino looked at him angrily. “I am a careful man.”

  “That you are,” Mehr agreed. “Usually,” he added a moment later.

  Marko unrolled the parchment and stared at what was undeniably his signature.

  “Marko,” Mehr said sharply.

  Marko looked at him.

  “You did not sign her death warrant,” Mehr stated.

  “He did,” Zino argued.

  Marko held it out for Mehr’s inspection.

  “I do not need to see it. If it is your signature then you were tricked into it.” He drew a sharp breath, realizing when Zino had done it. “The men sent to Shilbridge,” he blurted.

  Zino stiffened.

  Marko’s hand lowered as the truth dawned on him. He looked hard at Zino. “Have they been sent?”

  “Yes, my lord,” Zino replied, turning to him.

  “Who was sent?”

  Zino swallowed, “Dulay. Noah Dulay. And I sent another division for support.”

  “But I signed three sets of orders, did I not?”

  Zino’s face twitched.

  “You did,” Mehr said. “Three. Went right down the row without even reading them.”

  Marko kept his gaze on Zino. “Whose orders were they?”

  “Dulay, as I already said. Charleton, leader of the ninth division, and, uh, Wendermere, leader of the second. I had not yet made up my mind which division to send.”

  “Which division was sent?”

  “The ninth. I sent the ninth.”

  “And you informed them of this last evening?”

  “Salvo did. Yes. They were to have left this morning. Naturally, I could not verify that, having been confined to my rooms.”

  “So,” Mehr spoke up. “You should still have the order for Wendermere.” He could see a vein pumping in Zino’s reddening neck.

  “What is it you are suggesting?” Zino asked Corin, expressly ignoring Mehr Pechaco.

  “That you tricked me into signing this,” Marko replied in an even voice.

  Zino turned to Mehr. “And you believe that, as well?”

  “I do,” Mehr replied. “But why? What is Jade to you?”

  “Jade,” Zino said bitterly. “That’s not even her name.”

  “Pray tell,” Mehr said. “What is her name?”

  “I wasn’t able to learn it,” Zino bit out

  “What made you believe it is not her name?” Marko demanded.

  “Her fear when I asked,” Zino replied.

  “The fear is easy enough to understand, given the situation,” Mehr spoke up. “What made you ask the question in the first place?”

  Zino turned to Mehr. “Are we enemies, Mehr Pechaco? Why do you speak to me so?”

  “Because I fear for my cousin’s welfare when you are around.”

  “I have never done anything but protect and care for him since he was a boy, I have watched over him. I have—”

  “Why kill Jade?” Mehr interrupted. “We’ve yet to hear an explanation for that. Did you think he might not notice?”

  “I thought he was done with her. He said so. But the fact is, she is undermining him! His concentration. His will. He is a king. She is a whore.”

  Marko slammed his hand on the table and Zino jumped. “Leave my sight,” Marko hissed, “Before I have you hung in your torture chamber.”

  “Marko,” Zino begged.

  Corin held out a finger in warning.

  Zino hesitated a moment more and then he turned and left.

  Moments of uncomfortable silence passed after he’d gone. “Send him away Marko,” Mehr beseeched. “Send him away or kill him.”

  Marko turned an accusing glare on him. “Why do you hate him so?”

  “Why do you not? Can you not see how ambitious he is? How dangerous he is?”

  “He is ambitious for me, for my reign.”

  “He is ambitious for himself,” Mehr exclaimed, shaking his head. It made no difference. Nothing they had learned made a difference. “You are blind to it, cousin. That man, his control over you, it will be your downfall.” Giving up, he walked to the door, but then turned back with a grim expression. “This is one time, I will not enjoy being right.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Ammey reluctantly woke. She’d slept enough, but she’d been having a wonderful dream and she didn’t want to let go of it. She rolled onto her back and felt a twinge of discomfort.

  “Finally going to wake?”

  It was Marko’s voice. It took effort, but she opened her eyes and focused on him. It was not easy as daylight was unmercifully bright. She felt strange and heavy.

  Marko was sitting by her bed. “How do you feel?”

  She didn’t know what to say.

  “Jade?”

  She looked away from him. Somehow, Zino had known she was not who she claimed to be. Had he convinced Marko of it? She was not strong enough to endure torture without eventually breaking.

  Marko took hold of her hand and lovingly stroked it. “Don’t be frightened. You’re safe. Do you remember what happened?”

  If only she could go back to sleep. She was not ready to face him yet.

  “Do you remember anything?”

  Was that the answer? A total loss of memory? If she could not remember anything, there was no sense in torturing her for information. She looked at him and shook her head.

  “What is the last thing you remember?”

  “N-nothing,” she croaked. “Nothing makes sense,” she uttered in a hoarse voice.

  He watched her a moment more and then he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Do you know who I am?”

  She hesitated and then shook her head again.

  “It’s alright,” he assured her. He looked over as the nurse entered the room. “Get the physic,” he ordered sharply.

  The woman rushed back out again.

  Marko looked back at her. “Do you know your name?”

  “You said …Jade,” she replied uncertainly, her voice raspy and low.

  “And I am Marko. Does that sound familiar?”

  She turned away again, fearful she would give herself away if she kept looking at him.

  “It’s alright,” he soothed. “You were hurt. That’s the reason you’re so tired. And you’ve slept a long time.” She felt him kiss her hand again. “But you needn’t worry about a thing.” He felt her forehead and cheek. “No fever. That’s good. It means you’re safe. I give you my word on that. You are safe. Do you believe me?”

  She nodded.

  “Good, because it’s true. I won’t let anything hurt you. Not ever again.” He set her hand back down and rose. “I’ll be back soon. You rest.”r />
  ~~~

  Marko met the physician in the corridor. “She appears to have no memory. Why is that?”

  “Head injuries can be that way, your majesty. Of course, it could be the opium.”

  “Then stop giving it to her.”

  “I have been tapering off.”

  Marko paced. He was too anxious to remain still. “If she has no memory now, is it likely to return?”

  “It is possible,” the physician hedged.

  “But is it likely?”

  “If the memory loss is from the blow to the head, it may not return. Ever.”

  “And we should know within a few days if it’s due to the opium, correct?”

  “Yes. And her memory will return. She’s not been lucid to this point, so perhaps I can determine more now that she is.”

  Marko nodded. “Report back when you’ve seen her.”

  “I shall.”

  “And do not tell her who I am or where she is. She’s to be kept calm. I will tell her everything she needs to know.”

  “What if she asks where she is?”

  “Tell her she’s home. This is where she lives.”

  “Of course, sire. As you wish.”

  Marko walked on. He stopped at a window and peered out at the setting sun casting glorious color over the city. He caught a glimpse of a pale green starflit and wondered if it was a sign. The starflits had mostly died out for the season. They’d come and gone while Jade had been sleeping.

  Bracing himself on either side of the window, he realized that Jade’s memory loss, if it held, was the potential gift of a lifetime. It would provide a fresh slate, an opportunity to begin again and create the very situation he had longed for. Even if she did regain some memory down the road, she’d have new experiences and knowledge. She would know he was a good man. She would care for him, perhaps even love him.

  How ironic that the crime Zino had committed might actually turn out to be the greatest gift he had ever received.

  ~~~

  Stripe watched the ripples in the river near their camp, trying to calm his agitation.

  “I know,” Kidder commiserated as he joined him. “We’ve become politicians and jailors.”

  Stripe looked at him. “We cannot sway everyone anymore than we can remove every obstacle.”

  “I know.” Kidder shrugged. “And yet it’s our mission.”

  “Perhaps we go at it the wrong way.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Think about it. This is a political city with an elected council. They’ve decided to align with Bellux-Abry out of fear or self preservation, plus a measure of greed.”

  “Self preservation because they believe Corin’s army will ultimately be victorious?”

  “Yes. And they do not want to be the first major battlefield. If they refuse annexation, that may happen.”

  “And greed because they will be exempt from taxes for a time.”

  “Yes. So while we work to change the mind of a person here and a person there, or to remove those whose thinking we cannot alter—”

  “We barely hold off annexation,” Forzenay spoke up, joining them from behind. “One day at a time. One meeting at a time. Sometimes, one hour at a time.”

  “We either need a different means of persuasion,” Stripe stated, folding his arms. “Or a new mission. Personally speaking, I would vote for the second option.”

  “And yet, here we are,” Forzenay said. “As directed. We have worked our way in, aligned with like minds, strengthened their resolve, and we are in a position of first hand knowledge.”

  “Politics,” Kidder muttered.

  “Not our first choice of assignments,” Forzenay conceded. “But we have held off an annexation that would have occurred without us and we’ve done it without blood shed.” He shrugged slightly. “Or much of it anyway.”

  Stripe shook his head. “We’ve held it off so far, but we’re close to failure, and with good reason. From the council’s perspective, there is every reason to align with Bellux-Abry. Why are we in this alone?”

  “Because no one else realizes what is at stake and none of us can be spared to go inform our allies when our work here is so vital.”

  “I have to relieve Vincent on watch,” Kidder said. He clapped Stripe on the arm and walked away.

  “Do yourself a favor and take a long swim,” Forzenay urged. “Until exhaustion sets in.”

  “That’s Vincent’s solution,” Stripe replied wryly. “Agonizing over Ammey every minute of the day.”

  “Try it. Swim until you drop. Afterwards, things will look better.”

  “Oh, things will look better on the morrow, will they?”

  “No. Things will look better when you’re fast asleep, exhausted from your swim.”

  Stripe relaxed a bit. There was no sense in baiting his brothers. All of them were mired in this mess together. He stretched his neck and considered a long, hard swim. “Do you believe Ammey is alive and well?”

  “I do. I have to believe it. After all, she’s the one.”

  “The one,” Stripe repeated drolly.

  “The one to make a difference,” Forzenay stated.

  “She has already made all the difference to some. Would we have prevailed at the alehouse without her? She saved Ianthe and Liani. And because she did, Ianthe was able to care for the children and the wounded who would have died without her.” He paused. “We have no way of knowing how Ammey fares or if she’s still alive.”

  “She’s alive. Vincent asks daily and the talisman confirms it.”

  Stripe was tired of arguing. Yes, the talisman confirmed she still lived, but she might be languishing in a cell, close to death. She might be so badly off, she was longing it. They were doing what they’d been asked to do, but Vincent’s idea of going after Ammey had been the right one in his opinion. He whipped off his tunic because he did need the excursion of a swim. “Come on. I’ll race you to the other side.”

  “But then your loss might further frustrate you.”

  Stripe guffawed.

  “Alright,” Forzenay agreed, removing his own tunic. “I could use a good night’s sleep, myself.”

  ~~~

  Ammey’s favorite maid, a young woman by the name Marta, assisted Ammey out to one of the private, informal gardens which was in heavy bloom. It was disturbing that it was midsummer. She’d missed whole weeks of her life. She was forced to lean on Marta for support, but she was enjoying the feel of sunshine on her face. Fresh air, sunshine and exertion were what she needed to complete her healing.

  “Here we are,” the maid said when they reached a shaded bench.

  Ammey sat, breathless from the short walk. “I feel my legs shaking.”

  Marta sat next to her, observing her carefully. “You don’t feel faint?”

  “No. Just winded.” She looked around. “This is what I need.” She sniffed, picking up a scent she didn’t recognize. “What’s that scent? Sweet but almost … spicy?”

  Marta got up and walked over to pluck a white flower from a massive tiered pot. She then went further and plucked a blush-colored flower from a bush. She returned and held out the white. Ammey sniffed. It was sweet, almost too sweet.

  “That one’s a camellia,” Marta said. Then she handed over the other.

  Ammey smelled and nodded. This was the scent she’d caught earlier. Again, it was almost too sweet and there was another strange note she couldn’t define.

  “That’s the flower of the ugaria bush.”

  Ammey handed them back. “They’re better from a distance.”

  Marta smiled as she took them. As she walked over to toss them over a hedge, Ammey saw Marko approaching. It gave her a jolt because she’d not seen him for days. She didn’t know why he’d stayed away, nor did she have any knowledge of what had become of Zino. False explanations had been given for her injuries, but there had been no talk of palace politics, and it wasn’t as if she could ask.

  “Hello,” he said as he reached them.


  Marta curtsied deeply. “Your majesty.”

  “Will you bring a tray for us?” he asked. “Wine and cheese.”

  “At once, your majesty,” Marta replied and she hurried away.

  Ammey felt so conspicuous. She was at a total disadvantage not knowing what he knew or thought.

  “You look wonderful,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

  “Weak,” she admitted.

  He nodded. “You’ll get your strength back. We’ll take walks every day now that you’re able.”

  She had no idea how to react to him. Fortunately, he was coming closer to sit beside her so she could avoid eye contact.

  “The physician tells me you have not regained your memory. Is that so?”

  She tried to remain impassive, but she feared her expression and her pounding heart would betray the truth. Her caregivers had woven a tale about her being injured in a horse riding accident, so they all had a story to maintain. “Nothing before the accident.”

  “That must be disconcerting,” Marko empathized. He reached over and took hold of her hand. “Let’s begin fixing that. You know your name and mine.”

  She nodded. “And that you are king,” she added quietly without looking at him.

  He chuckled. “Of course. Yes. And that you are queen.”

  She looked at him in shock.

  His gaze was level, his face composed. “The staff was told not to mention it. I wanted you kept calm and unburdened with no thoughts of duties or responsibilities. It’s the same reason I’ve kept my distance while you healed.”

  She looked away, panicked by the assertion. What could she possibly say?

  “We are happily wedded, my love,” he said reassuringly. “Ours is a great love story. I’ll tell you all about it and you’ll start to remember.”

  She felt like she couldn’t breathe.

  “Jade,” he said. “Darling.”

  She looked at him guardedly.

  He leaned in to kiss her forehead and then pulled back. “You have nothing to fear. You are safe and you are loved. By me, by everyone. You are Lady Jade Corin, queen of Bellux-Abry.”

  “I—”

  “It’s alright. I understand how overwhelming it must be. You will not be rushed in any way.” He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it. “It is possible your memory will return, but if it does not, I’ll tell you all about your life. And we’re still young. So much of our lives have yet to happen.”