by C. J. Archer
"That brings us back to Barborough," Dane said to me. "If you're seen more at the palace, he'll think you're questioning the servants. That will keep him satisfied for a little longer."
"Only until he thinks I've had enough time to gather information," I said. "What shall I tell him when he asks me?"
Dane opened and shut his mouth then shook his head.
It was Balthazar who answered. "Tell him the servants you've spoken to made their own way to the palace after learning of vacancies through marketplace gossip. They all come from different villages around the Fist, and none had worked for royalty before."
"He'll want to know which villages," Dane said. "And where they learned to be maids, footmen, guards and gardeners. If she gives him a name of a village or noble house, he'll send someone to make inquiries there."
"Then what do you propose she tell him?"
"She could avoid him."
"How? He knows where she lives. He can come and go freely from the palace."
"I could make it so he can't," Dane shot back.
Theodore gasped.
A muscle bunched in Balthazar's jaw. "And how will you do that, Hammer?"
The room fell silent. Dane and Balthazar glared at one another, and the air grew thicker with each passing moment.
Finally Theodore cleared his throat. "We'll keep that option as a last resort."
Dane shifted his weight and rested his hand on his sword hilt. "I have to return to work. Josie?"
I rose and picked up my pack, but he took it from me. "Will you tell Lady Miranda I'm here to see her?" I asked. "Tell her I'll meet her in…"
"On the lawn at the edge of the lake past the greenhouse," he filled in. "No one will be out there in this heat. Do you remember it?"
How could I forget meeting him there? It had been one of those warm, languid days, forever etched in my memory, where time had ceased to have meaning. I could have stayed out there with him for days and not cared to return home.
I went to leave, but Balthazar called me back into his office. "Be careful, Josie. Don't underestimate Barborough. He desperately wants to know if magic is involved in the palace's creation."
"He isn't the only one," Theodore said.
"Has anyone considered the fact that he could help?" I asked. "If we told him everything, he might shed some light on the mystery."
"I think you overestimate his magical knowledge," Dane said.
"And underestimate the importance of his role as Vytill adviser," Balthazar added. "If he thinks Leon performed magic to be on the throne, he will whisper in certain ears. Ears that can destabilize the monarchy."
He meant the dukes. If the two Glancian dukes worked together to remove the king, then fought one another over a vacant throne, the perfect environment would be created for Vytill to storm in to the country and take over.
I swallowed heavily and nodded. I was in over my head with these political machinations, but it wouldn't be of any use to let these men see it. They needed me, and I'd do what I could to help, even if my help was nothing more than exchanging gossip and feeding falsehoods to Vytill's representative.
"I'll return your pack to the garrison," Dane said as we walked back along the corridor. "Exit the palace on the forecourt side and avoid nobles. I'll send Lady Miranda to you."
"Thank you." I wanted to ask him when I'd see him again, but I didn't think my question would be welcome. He still seemed very tense and not inclined to flirt.
"If you see Barborough…" He blew out a breath. "Just be careful."
"I will."
"And Josie." He put a hand on my arm and we both stopped. Torchlight illuminated one side of his face, casting the other in deep shadow. "I meant what I said in there. If the situation becomes too precarious, I'll do something about it. I won't let him hurt you." His fingers skimmed down my bare arm, sending a wash of heat through me. He lightly brushed the edge of my hand before setting off along the service corridor at a brisk pace.
I stared at his broad back for a moment then trotted to catch up. We parted ways in the garrison. He deposited my pack on a chair and left the way we'd entered. I exited through the external door and walked in the palace's shadow toward the first pavilion bordering one side of the inner forecourt.
The water in the fountain trickled a cool, welcoming tune, but no one paddled in it. Village children would have loved to splash in the shallows, but there were no children in the palace. Two young noblewomen and two elderly ones ambled past, fans flapping furiously. One of the elderly ladies complained of the heat and asked why they had to choose the warmest part of the day to go for a walk. The other elderly lady said it was because it was sweltering inside.
Two guards walked slowly by and nodded at me. They looked hot and bored, as did the sedan chair carriers. Sweat dripped from their brows, down their necks, and dampened their hair. They wore full palace livery with a crimson waistcoat and jacket over their shirt. I hoped they were given plenty of rest and water to drink. No doubt Balthazar would make sure of it. He seemed efficient yet considerate. I wasn't sure if that was because he wanted the staff to perform with maximum effort, or because he genuinely cared about their welfare.
I was about to pass the second pavilion when one of the sedan chair carriers shouted.
"Help! Someone get help!"
I picked up my skirts and ran back to where the sedan chair sat on the red, white and black marble flagstones. The door was open and the carrier who'd shouted stood there, uncertain, staring inside. The other stood behind him and I quickly realized he had been the one to shout. The first looked to be in shock.
"What is it?" I asked, reaching them at the same time as the two guards. I could not see past them, however, as big as they were.
"Move aside!" one of the guards ordered. "Stand back, let us through."
"What is it?" I said again.
"H-he's dead," said the first carrier. "His lordship is dead."
"Let me see." I tried to push aside the two guards but my efforts were in vain. "If he's not dead, he might require medical attention. So move!"
The guards parted, and I slipped between them. But I didn't immediately check for a pulse. I didn't need to. The signs of death were clear in the gray pallor of his skin and the open, vacant eyes.
But it wasn't those signs that made my heart dive and my mind reel. It was the fact that I knew him. I'd seen him in the village, but only once. It had been his wedding day. The day he'd married Lady Violette Deerhorn, now Lady Morgrave.
"Well?" asked one of the guards. "Is he alive?"
I checked his pulse to be sure. "Send for the captain," I said. "Tell him Lord Morgrave is dead." I would wait for Dane to arrive and tell him privately that his lordship had been murdered.
Chapter 3
It didn't take long before a small crowd of nobles and servants gathered around the sedan chair, vying for a view of the dead Lord Morgrave. By the time Dane and Sergeant Brant arrived, I'd been pushed out of the way altogether.
"Stand clear!" Brant ordered. He manhandled a footman out of the way and pushed through the people, not caring whether he jostled servant or noble. More than one gentleman protested but Brant ignored him.
Dane met my gaze before he ordered everyone to step back with less aggression yet more command than Brant. The crowd moved to allow Dane in to inspect the body.
"Out of the way! Let me through!" came a voice at the edge of the crowd. He was ignored until he shouted, "I'm a doctor! Let me through."
The gathering parted again to reveal Doctor Clegg, medical bag in hand. He took a moment to catch his breath and sweep his graying hair off his damp forehead before asking Dane to step aside.
"You're too late," Brant said. "He's dead."
"I'll be judge of that," Doctor Clegg said.
"I know what a dead body looks like."
"Mistress Cully has already checked," added one of the sedan chair carriers.
Doctor Clegg searched the crowd before his cool gaze settled on
me. "Mistress Cully could have made a mistake. She isn't a doctor."
"It don't take a medic to know he's dead," Brant snapped.
Doctor Clegg set his bag down and ducked his head into the sedan chair cabin. A hush fell over the crowd. Dane caught my gaze and jerked his head toward the gate. He mouthed "Go" in case I didn't understand his meaning.
I edged away from the sedan chair along with the rest of the crowd being ordered to move on by Brant and the other guards. Neither they nor I left the vicinity, however, and I was close enough to hear the exchange between Doctor Clegg and Dane.
"What did he die of?" Dane asked.
"Heart failure," the doctor said.
Heart failure! Was he blind? How could he have missed the signs of poisoning?
"Remove the body," Dane ordered his men. "Take it to the cellar."
Doctor Clegg picked up his bag. "I'll inform Lady Morgrave. It'll be better coming from me."
I stepped toward them. "No!"
Brant drew his sword. "No further!" he barked.
I thrust my hands on my hips and glared at him. "We both know you're not going to use that on me, so put it away."
He bared his teeth in a twisted grin. "Please test me, Josie. It will be my pleasure to prove you wrong."
I swallowed and lowered my hands to my sides. "Lord Morgrave didn't die of heart failure."
That wiped the smile off his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but Dane ordered him to put his weapon away and see that the crowd dispersed.
"I asked you to leave," Dane said to me when we were alone.
"He didn't die of heart failure," I said again.
He grabbed my arm and marched me away from the others. "Don't let Clegg hear you."
"Clegg is a fool," I hissed. "Anyone with medical knowledge can see Morgrave's heart didn't give out. There are too many other signs for him to simply rule it heart failure."
He glanced over his shoulder to where Doctor Clegg stood by the sedan chair, bag in hand, watching us with a frown. "Make it seem as though you're leaving but double back when the area is clear. I'll be in the garrison."
I crossed the inner forecourt to the larger outer one and the guards at the gate let me through, but not before asking what the commotion was about. I walked slowly and only glanced back when I reached the coach house. The crowd on the inner forecourt had thinned, the sedan chair removed, and Dane was nowhere in sight.
Even so, I stayed in the coach house for some time. It was cooler anyway, and the scent of leather and blacking polish smelled pleasant. The coachman and their assistants had little to do, since so few nobles had ventured out in the heat, and were glad to join me for conversation, particularly when I had gossip to impart. I told them Doctor Clegg had ruled Lord Morgrave's death the result of heart failure, but I didn't tell them I disagreed with it. Dane was right; I had to be careful. Declaring a man had died from poisoning could be seen as giving a medical opinion. Doctor Clegg would gladly inform the authorities.
I went in search of more conversation in the stables on the opposite side of Grand Avenue. The grooms were just as eager to hear about Lord Morgrave's death, though not as surprised. He'd just returned from a ride and, according to the groom who'd taken his horse, he'd not looked well.
I borrowed a wide brimmed hat one of the ladies had left behind in a carriage and returned to the palace wearing it low over my face. If anyone cared to look closely, it was obvious I wasn't a palace maid, but no one paid me any mind. No nobles remained on the forecourts anymore, only patrolling guards.
I pushed open the door to the garrison where Dane immediately stood upon seeing me.
"You still here?" Quentin asked. "Did you know Lord Morgrave was found dead?"
"She was there, idiot," Brant said.
"You saw him? What did the body look like? I've never seen anyone after they've died of heart failure. I s'pose you've seen lots. What are the signs?"
"Josie hasn't got time for your questions," Dane growled. He opened the door, expecting me to walk through to the service corridor beyond.
"Balthazar's office?" I asked as I passed him.
"He's waiting."
Theodore was there too, occupying the same chair as earlier. He stood upon my entry but Balthazar remained seated on the other side of the desk. He leaned on his walking stick, both hands folded over the head. He nodded grimly and asked me to sit.
"How did Lady Morgrave take the news?" I asked.
"She put on a good show, by all accounts," Balthazar said.
"I don't think it was an act," Theodore said with an admonishing look for the master of the palace. "She looked genuinely shocked when Doctor Clegg informed her."
"You were there?"
"I was with the king, and he was with her, along with several others, playing cards."
"How did the king react?"
"That's none of your concern, Josie," Balthazar said.
"He looked shocked too," Theodore told me. "He's still with her. I think he was genuinely horrified at the notion of a nobleman dying here at the palace."
"He'd be even more horrified if he learned it was murder," I said.
"Don't say that outside these four walls," Dane said quickly.
"I think Lady Morgrave did it," I went on. "Her shock was just an act. Or if not Lady Morgrave herself, then her mother or other member of her family. Lord Morgrave's death benefits the Deerhorns. Now his widow is free to marry the king."
"Let's not jump to conclusions until a thorough investigation has been conducted," he said darkly.
"It's hardly a jump, Captain," I said, my voice rising. Why was he being so obstructive? Didn't he want to investigate? "More like a small step. A tiny one, in fact."
"Even so."
Balthazar stamped the walking stick into the floor. "Why don't you think Morgrave died of heart failure, Josie?"
"There was evidence of poisoning. Heart failure generally doesn't have many unique outward signs. It's not until the heart itself is inspected that the doctor can say for certain if that was the cause of death."
Theodore wrinkled his nose. "You mean the heart is removed from the chest?"
"It's forbidden to dissect a human cadaver outside the medical college," I said. "They do it for educational purposes, but only after a priest or priestess has performed a special rite."
He turned away, his face pale.
"Granted, not everyone can identify the signs of poison," I went on. "It's not a common cause of death, and Doctor Clegg may never have seen an affected body before, but after my experiences with Miranda and the dog, I'm quite certain that's how Morgrave died."
"What signs?" Dane asked.
"His fingernails were a purplish color and he'd frothed at the mouth. But the most obvious sign was the smell. Do you remember the dog, Captain?" I swallowed. "And my father?"
Dane nodded. "But I didn't smell that same smell on Morgrave."
"That's because you didn't open his mouth. I did. If Clegg was doing a proper inspection, he would have noticed the distinctively sweet smell of the poison made from cane flower. It was what Lord Frederick Whippler used on my father, but not Lady Miranda."
Dane settled a hand on his sword hilt. "But Morgrave hadn't vomited. I saw no evidence of it in the sedan chair. All the other victims of poison threw up."
"Could he have vomited before getting into the sedan chair?" Theodore asked.
"He did," I said.
They all looked at me, brows arched.
"I asked in the stables," I added. "The grooms said he was pale and sweating upon his return. He needed assistance getting off the horse but refused any further help. He threw up in the stable yard then got into the waiting sedan chair. It was the last time he was seen alive."
"Did you gather a sample?" Dane asked.
Theodore made a gagging sound and covered his mouth.
"The grooms were too efficient," I said. "They'd already washed it away."
"So we can't know for sure if he was poisone
d."
"It seems very likely that he was."
"I agree," Balthazar said. "If Josie thinks the evidence points to poisoning, I'm inclined to believe her. She has more experience than Clegg."
"Clegg's diagnosis of heart failure was too quick for my liking," Dane added. "He should have waited until he'd studied the body further."
I agreed. "Even if he didn't know what the smell or the fingernail discoloration meant, he should have been curious and performed a closer inspection."
"Or he could have asked you, knowing that you've witnessed poison cases before," Theodore said.
"He would never stoop to asking me."
None of them disagreed with that.
Balthazar sighed and leaned heavily on his walking stick. "It seems we have a problem. If we announce that Josie believes Morgrave was poisoned, we'll be throwing suspicion onto the widow and her family. The king might not care. However, if he refuses to investigate, he'll only make it seem as though he is complicit in the murder. Even worse, it will make him seem as though he is a Deerhorn pawn. We can't have that."
"No one will announce anything," Dane said. "Josie can't be seen to have given a diagnosis."
Balthazar gave a curt nod. "So we all agree. Nothing is to be done."
"No!" I cried. "You can't just let the murderer roam free. Justice should be served."
Balthazar sighed again. "That's the problem with youth. You think everything is black and white, and that justice should always be dealt. Josie, these people are ruthless. If they killed a nobleman who stood in their way, they won't hesitate to silence anyone who suspects them of his murder. I prefer the murdering stop here, don't you? I've grown used to having you around. "
His words made my scalp crawl, but he was right. If I threw cold water over Doctor Clegg's diagnosis, I would draw unwanted attention to myself. I couldn't expect the king to save me. Lady Morgrave meant more to him than I did.
Theodore swore softly. It was so unexpected that we all stared at him. "Apologies, Josie, that was uncalled for. But you all know what will happen, don't you? Lady Morgrave will marry the king. She'll be our new queen."
