The Whisper of Silenced Voices

by C. J. Archer

  I didn't see Dane enter but I heard his barked command. "Enough, Sergeant!" He charged past Quentin and using only one hand, ripped Brant off Erik before he could lay another punch. Dane's other hand clutched a small wooden box.

  Brant stumbled to his feet and took a swing at Dane, but Dane dodged it. He struck a short, sharp punch that landed on Brant's jaw. Brant's head snapped back but he was able to regain his footing and settle his stance. He bared his teeth at Dane.

  "Don't," Dane warned him. "Or there will be more severe consequences."

  "There'll be consequences anyway, won't there?" Brant snarled. "Think I care if you take me off the roster? You going to give me the shittiest tasks again? Go on, assign me to prison duty. I don't care."

  "You'll go to the prison, Brant, but you won't be on duty."

  Brant stared at him and slowly lowered his fists. He wouldn't fight Dane. He knew he wouldn't win. The last time they'd fought, he'd come off second best.

  "You can't imprison me!" Brant cried. "He started it. Ask them. Go on, ask them."

  Dane looked to Quentin. "Who threw the first punch?"

  Quentin looked away.

  "Answer me!" Dane shouted.

  Quentin swallowed. "Erik tackled him after Brant insulted Josie." He gave Erik an apologetic shrug as the Marginer sat up, rubbing the back of his head.

  I knelt and inspected it. There was a lump but the skin wasn't broken. "Do not fight on stone floors," I told them. All of them. "If someone strikes their head as they fall, it could kill them."

  Quentin appeared to be the only one listening. Brant and Dane glared at one another while Erik got to his feet.

  "He is scum," Erik spat. "He should not be in the same room as Josie."

  I tended to agree. Every time I was in Brant's company, there was an argument or a fight.

  "Stop trying to lift her skirts with your concern, Marginer," Brant sneered. "She's only got eyes for Hammer." He wiped the back of his hand over his cut lip, smearing the blood so that his mouth appeared to stretch into a gruesome grin. "Go on, Hammer. What's my punishment? What's his?"

  "Erik will be on prison duty," Dane said. "You will hand in you sword and uniform and wait for further instructions from Balthazar regarding your new role."

  A deep pit of silence swallowed us for a long moment, then Brant barked a harsh laugh. Erik and Quentin exchanged glances.

  "You can wait in the dormitory," Dane said.

  "Why am I being punished more than him?" Brant blustered. "He started it."

  "Go to the dormitory and wait for me there. I'll return with Balthazar's instructions."

  Brant shook his head, over and over. "You can't do this. I'm supposed to be a guard. No one changes duties."

  "You'll be the first. See it as an experiment. If you suddenly vanish or die, we'll know it's not allowed."

  Quentin pressed his lips together to suppress his smile.

  Brant's fists closed and I worried Dane would have another fight on his hands. But Brant merely turned to me. "What if I apologize?"

  I was so stunned I almost laughed, thinking it were a joke. But I was glad I didn't. He looked serious.

  "Go ahead," Dane said.

  Brant cleared his throat. "Sorry, Josie. I shouldn't have called you…" His gaze flicked to Dane. "I shouldn't have said what I did. It isn't true."

  It was more than I'd expected. Much more. It sounded sincere, too. "Thank you," I said. "Apology accepted."

  He didn't wait for Dane's final ruling on his fate but walked through to the guards' dormitory and shut the door.

  "Are you all right?" Dane asked me.

  I nodded without taking my gaze off the door. "Is being a guard really so important to him that he'd swallow his pride so completely?"

  "It would seem so."

  "Or he really did regret his words," Quentin said. "Maybe he wanted to apologize anyway, and this offered him a way to do it. His pride is pricked a bit, but not deflated completely like it would be if he'd apologized unprompted."

  "I doubt that's it," I said, frowning at the door again. "Brant doesn't like me enough to regret calling me names."

  "Some people have strange ways of showing their feelings."

  I blinked owlishly at him.

  Erik snorted. "Brant does not feel good emotions, only bad. Anger, hate, fear. And pride. Much pride. He will not like being gardener or footman. That is enough for him to take his words back." He rubbed my shoulder. "He cannot say that about you in front of me."

  I touched his chin and inspected the bruise developing around his eye. "Next time someone calls me something you don't like, please just turn the other cheek."

  He pointed to his face. "This cheek?" He slapped his backside. "Or this cheek?"

  Quentin muttered something under his breath as he bent to pick up the book. Erik chuckled but suddenly stopped. I followed his gaze to see Dane glaring at Erik.

  Erik cleared his throat. "I will return to duty."

  "I don't know about you two," Quentin said when he was gone, "but I need a drink. Josie?"

  I shook my head and regarded Dane. He still held the box. He'd not let it go throughout the entire exchange. Either it contained something very important or he hadn't been too worried about Brant. I suspected it was the former. I also suspected I knew what was in it.

  "Did you send a message to me to come to the palace this morning?" I asked him.

  He frowned. "No. You were summoned?"

  "Anonymously."

  His frown deepened. He looked down at the box in his hand. "I was on my way to Balthazar's office. Come with me."

  We left via the internal door, but as soon as it closed, Dane took my hand, halting me. The flames from the flickering wall torches danced wildly in his eyes, and the shadows sharpened the planes of his face.

  "What did Brant say to you?" he asked.

  "It doesn't matter. I wasn't offended."

  He inched closer and his hand skimmed up my arm. His face was so close to mine that if I stood on my toes and leaned in just a little, I could kiss him. A kiss from Dane would banish the last vestiges of my anxiety, and the foul memory of Lord Xavier's lips crushing mine. A kiss from Dane would make everything so much better.

  I stood on my toes. I leaned in. My lips parted.

  Dane filled my vision. His eyes became warm, his breathing quickened. Then his lips skimmed mine, so tenderly that I ached from the longing of it. My longing, and his.

  His hand rested on my waist then circled me, holding me against him. I gripped his shoulders, aware that I'd vowed not to do this, not to tempt him or be tempted. Yet I couldn't stop. The achingly tender butterfly kiss only made me want to break every promise I'd made to stay away.

  But before I could deepen the kiss, he stepped back and set off along the corridor.

  I blew out a shuddery breath and tried not to regret the loss of his touch. He'd done the right thing by walking away. His willpower was stronger than mine.

  I tried to dampen the fuse of desire as I followed him, but I failed. So I searched for something to say instead to break the tension.

  "Why are we going to Balthazar's office?"

  He held up the box. "This just arrived and I sent word for Theodore to meet me there. If Barborough is looking for you, I can't send you out alone and I have to attend this meeting. You might as well come along."

  It was hardly a welcoming invitation, but I wouldn't refuse it. I wished he didn't talk as if the kiss had been as banal as scheduling patrol duty.

  "Finally!" Balthazar said when we entered his office. "I could have died of old age waiting for you. Why is she here?"

  "Good afternoon to you too, Balthazar," I said, taking the vacant seat beside Theodore.

  The king's valet gave me a small but fleeting smile as his fingers tapped out a rhythm on his thigh.

  "There was an incident in the garrison," Dane said. "You need to find Brant work elsewhere in the palace. He won't be returning to guard duty."

  The
odore's fingers stilled. Balthazar sat back and regarded Dane.

  "No," I said, shaking my head. "You can't do that, Captain. He apologized."

  "He causes too many problems. This was just the latest. He needs to be punished, and to someone like Brant, the only punishment that will have any effect is to remove him from a position of authority and to take away his sword."

  "But you can't go back on your word."

  Dane's gaze narrowed to slits. "Why are you defending him?"

  "I'm not, but you told him you wouldn't banish him from the garrison if he apologized to me."

  Dane's jaw hardened. The man was stubborn.

  "I'm not disagreeing with you for Brant's benefit but for yours," I said. "If you remove Brant from guard duty, your men might no longer respect you."

  "You're telling me how to manage my men?"

  "Advising, not telling."

  Theodore made a strangled sound which I realized, when I looked at him, was a smothered laugh. Dane turned his frosty glare onto him, and Theodore quickly sobered.

  "It doesn't matter what either of you think," Balthazar said. "I'm not assigning him different duties. The sergeant needs to be with other guards. I can't let him loose among staff with no combat experience. He won't take orders from them, and they won't be able to control him if he loses his temper. I have a strong suspicion that's why he's with you, Hammer."

  Dane shook his head. "I disagree."

  "Noted. Now, can we ask why you called this meeting, and with Josie in tow, too?"

  "And be quick," Theodore added. "The king's resting now but he'll need me when he wakes. He's been demanding today."

  "Is that because he still feels unwell?" I asked.

  Theodore nodded glumly. "It's the same complaint. He thinks he's going to die after every meal." He looked to Dane. "He demanded I fetch you but I told him to wait until after his rest. He wants the gem, and I don't think we can distract him this time. He was very distressed."

  "The party didn't work?" I asked.

  "It did, for a time," Balthazar said. "It seems the positive effects have worn off."

  "And his poor dining habits have returned," Theodore added.

  Dane set the box down on the desk. "You don't have to distract him anymore."

  "It arrived?" Theodore asked as Balthazar reached for the box. "Thank the god and goddess."

  Balthazar opened the box and plucked out the blood-red stone. It didn't glow or throb like the magic gemstone from the king's cabinet, but it looked the same in every other way.

  Balthazar turned it over to inspect it then held it to one of the candles, the only light in the windowless room. "The jeweler matched the drawing perfectly."

  "Who drew it?" I asked.

  "One of the servants is artistic."

  "The same one who sketches our faces for Laylana," Dane added. "We found a curtain in one of the salons that matched the color of the gem and sent the jeweler a piece along with the picture."

  "No one noticed the missing fabric," Theodore said, taking the gem from Balthazar. "Shall I take it up to him now?"

  "No," Dane said. "The king doesn't know we've opened the cabinet and seen its contents."

  Balthazar rested his elbows on the desk and steepled his fingers. "He thinks we're obedient servants who wouldn't dare look inside his personal cabinet. Hammer, you'll have to take the cabinet to him and let him open it."

  "After you've swapped this fake gem for the real one," Theodore added. He handed the gem back to Dane, who pocketed it. "Go immediately. He's going to wake soon and—"

  The door burst open and the king charged in. I scrambled to my feet and curtseyed, but I doubted the king even noticed me. His furious glare was directed at Theodore.

  "I woke up and you weren't there," he said.

  Theodore bowed. "I'm sorry, sire."

  "That's it? You're sorry!" The king moved further into the room. Behind him, a footman hovered in the corridor, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there. He must have told the king where to find Theodore and escorted him. I wondered if the king knew his way around the palace like the staff, or if the corridors were a maze to him as they were to me.

  "We apologize for inconveniencing you, sire," Balthazar said.

  "You could have sent someone to fetch Theodore," Dane added. "There was no need for you to come all this way in person."

  "And not catch him at whatever he's up to?" the king snapped. "Not catch all of you?" He looked around the small office with its map of the palace estate on the wall, the sideboard with the jug of wine and cups, the paperwork covering Balthazar's desk. His gaze skimmed over the empty box, dismissing it as unimportant as he dismissed everything else he saw. "What's going on?"

  "It's a small matter of a servant," Dane said. "One of my guards. Nothing to concern yourself with, sire."

  "If it's a small matter, why do all three of you need to be here? Theodore has nothing to do with the guards. And why is Mistress Cully here?"

  "I came to the palace to see how you fared, Your Majesty," I said, lowering my gaze in deference. "You were in pain last time I saw you, and I wanted to know if you felt better after a few days of eating a more healthful diet."

  I glanced up when he didn't immediately answer, only to see him blinking rapidly at me. "You were worried about me?" It was the most vulnerable and humble I'd seen him for some time. When I'd first met him, he'd seemed like a youth out of his depth, a young man who needed reassurance and guidance. But he'd changed. Seeing him now, perhaps the insecure youth still lurked beneath the conceited, selfish man after all.

  "Yes, sire," I said with a kind smile. "How are you feeling?"

  "The pain has returned today, worse than ever." He pressed a hand to his chest, and his brow furrowed. "I don't think anything can be done. You were not able to help, and Doctor Clegg's medicine did nothing for me."

  "No medicine can cure you, sire, although the pain could have been alleviated with the right tonic. Did Doctor Clegg use his own medicine?"

  "He had it sent from the village apothecary."

  "Aren't you the village apothecary, Josie?" Balthazar asked.

  "The new doctor's wife makes her own medicines," I told them.

  "Then she isn't very good," the king said. "Bring me one of your tonics, Mistress Cully." He rubbed his chest and winced. "The pain is almost unbearable."

  "I'll send a bottle as soon as I get home," I said. "But it won't cure you. Do you understand? Only a change in diet will."

  "I have ordered the cook to change it," he whined.

  "Perhaps not enough."

  "Or perhaps you're wrong and the problem is worse than you think. That would explain why Doctor Clegg's tonic didn't work. Hammer, I asked you to bring me my cabinet days ago. Why haven't you?"

  "My apologies, sire," Dane said. "I'll fetch it now."

  "I'll come with you. I want to know where you hid it."

  Dane paused. "It's a considerable walk."

  "Prepare three horses," the king said over his shoulder to the footman, still hovering in the corridor. "Make it four. One for Mistress Cully too."

  "Why?" Balthazar asked as the footman left.

  "I want her to check me afterwards."

  "After what?" Balthazar asked, innocently.

  The king dismissed him with a wave. "Theo, come with me. I need to change into something appropriate for riding."

  The king and Theodore left, shutting the door behind them. I blew out a long breath as I sat heavily.

  "You'll need excellent sleight of hand, Hammer," Balthazar said. "Don't let him see you swap it."

  "Let's hope I was a conjurer in my previous life," Dane said.

  "That's not amusing."

  "I'm not laughing. Don't worry, Bal, I know what I have to do."

  "I can try to distract him at the appropriate moment," I said.

  Dane regarded me coolly. "I'm going to the stables. Wait here. I'll send someone to collect you."

  Balthazar plucked his quil
l pen out of the stand. "She can wait here if she sits quietly. Quietly means no speaking, no sniffing, no coughing, no loud breathing."

  I rose. "I'll come with you, Captain."

  "Pity," Balthazar said lightly. "I'll miss your company."

  "Liar."

  He smiled at me and I smiled back.

  "Careful, Bal," Dane said. "Flirting at your age could be bad for your heart."

  Balthazar's smile vanished. "Go away. I'm busy."

  Dane laughed softly as he shut the door behind us. "I'd prefer it if you went home," he said to me. "Being seen around the palace will only anger Barborough."

  "I feel safer here, with you," I said.

  He frowned, and I wondered if he was thinking the same as me—that my home was no longer a sanctuary.

  "Besides, King's orders," I said cheerfully. "Do we have to ask a gardener for a shovel?"

  "There's a shovel at the cottage. Do you still have the key for the gate?"

  I'd attached it to a thin strip of leather and tied it around my neck for safekeeping. I pulled the key out of my bodice, over my head, and handed it to him. He placed it around his own neck and tucked it beneath his doublet before leading the way outside.

  He walked close to me and scanned the vicinity, no doubt looking for Barborough. We reached the front gate without spotting him or being stopped.

  "Has Lord Barborough left the palace today?" Dane asked the guards on duty.

  "No, sir," one said.

  "Let me know if he does."

  We continued toward the stables, keeping pace with two sedan chairs. The ladies in the sedan chairs talked to one another loudly to be heard across the gap. They were gossiping about an acquaintance's wig.

  "Did you know the governor changed his mind about clearing The Row?" I asked Dane.

  He slowed his step to allow the sedan chairs to move ahead, out of earshot. "When?"

  "Yesterday."

  "He went against the Deerhorns' wishes?"

  "It seems so."

  We walked on in silence and I thought that was the end of the conversation; of all conversation. But as we reached the stable building, he said, "Something's not right. The governor is the Deerhorns' man. Stopping the clearance wouldn't be his idea; it would be theirs. But why would they stop it?"

  "To keep the peace in the village? There have been protests every evening since the governor announced the clearance."