The Whisper of Silenced Voices

by C. J. Archer

  "Peaceful protests."

  "There were fights. You broke up the one Ned Perkin started."

  "That was nothing. Certainly not enough to worry the sheriff or change the governor's mind. The Deerhorns are up to something, but I don't know what."

  I wasn't convinced. The governor might be the Deerhorns' man but he wouldn't want to see the protests escalate. The protestors might not pose a problem now, but as time went on, they could become more violent. Nor would he want to see his village overrun with the whores and thugs who used to be contained to The Row. He probably thought leaving the slum was a wiser course.

  The king arrived at the stables in a sedan chair some time after us. Theodore walked behind, carrying a velvet-covered stool that he set down in the stable courtyard. A groom led the king's horse to the stool and stood by, holding the reins.

  The king stepped onto the stool and mounted the horse. He winced as he settled in the saddle and pressed a hand to his chest. "Where to, Hammer?"

  Dane mounted Lightning, his usual horse, and I was given Sky. Theodore's horse didn't look particularly lively either, and he held the reins as awkwardly as I held Sky's. The king was only marginally more comfortable than either of us.

  We followed Dane out of the stable yard, toward the palace, and turned northerly to meet the Tilting road. No one spoke. The chatter of birds in the forest to our right and the thud of hooves on the packed earth were the only sounds. For someone who didn't like awkward silences, it strained my nerves.

  It was a relief to reach the gate that led back into the palace grounds and through the overgrown arbor to the cottage. The sight of the pretty little house with its rambling garden was a soothing tonic. I took a moment to breathe in the sweet scent of the flowers while the men went on ahead, led by Dane.

  "Wait here," Dane said, dismounting. "I'll fetch the shovel."

  "I didn't know this was here," the king said, looking around. "Did you, Theo?"

  "No, sire."

  "I wonder how Hammer did. Hammer?" he called out. His horse's ears twitched and it walked forward. The king grasped the reins tighter and made shushing sounds.

  "I stumbled upon it," Dane said, returning from the side of the cottage carrying a small shovel. He stopped at the spot where the cabinet was buried and removed his doublet. He threw it over a shrub then rolled up his shirt sleeves.

  "Violette would like this place," the king said. "But it's too far from the palace. Theo!"

  Theodore dismounted and assisted the king down from his horse. I dismounted unaided and let the reins go. Sky joined the other horses, nibbling on a bush.

  "This was a good place to hide it," the king said, hands on hips as he watched Dane dig. "No one would come all the way out here."

  "Not even the gardeners," Theodore said, inspecting the long arm of a climbing rose that had been allowed to grow unchecked. It looked as if it had been neglected for years, yet it hadn't existed here mere months ago.

  Sometimes it was easy to forget that the palace hadn't been here long. In a place of such wild beauty, it seemed as though the only kind of magic were the laws of nature.

  I watched Dane dig. The muscles in his forearms bulged with each thrust, and those in his shoulders bunched beneath his white shirt as he threw the dirt to the side. I wasn't the only one captivated by the sight. Both Theodore and the king watched him rather than the hole he was making.

  The hole was quite deep by the time he set the shovel aside and knelt on the ground. He reached in and pulled out the cabinet, brushing the dirt off. He set it down and picked up his doublet, and checked the pocket.

  He frowned.

  "What is it?" the king asked. "Open it!"

  "I can't find the key," Dane said. "I had it when I dismounted, but now I can't find it."

  The king squeezed the bridge of his nose. "I'm surrounded by incompetence."

  "It must be here somewhere," Theodore said, searching the ground near his feet. "Perhaps over by the horses. Sire, will you help me look. Josie?"

  Well done, Theo.

  By the time we reached the horses, Dane called out that he'd found the key. He handed both key and cabinet to the king, and the king opened the cabinet.

  The king snatched up the gem inside and clasped it to his chest. "Thank Merdu." He kissed the gem.

  "It's beautiful," I told him. "King Alain must have treasured it."

  "What? Oh. You're right, he did. My grandfather gave it to me when we met. If you don't mind, I'd like to be alone. Go stand with the horses. And face the other way."

  None of us witnessed what the king did next. By the time he called out that he was satisfied, knowing the gem was safely hidden, he'd returned it to the cabinet.

  "I'll keep the key this time, Hammer." The king patted the pocket of his doublet. "Let's return. Violette will be waiting for me. She says she pines for me when I'm not there. She is a beauty, isn't she?"

  "Seeing the gem has certainly lifted your spirits, sire," Theodore said. "You look better."

  "I feel better. The chest pains are gone. It seems you were right, Mistress Cully, there was nothing to worry about. I won't be needing you to check me after all."

  It would be pointless to remind him to eat well. He believed himself to be cured by magic. Although the fake gem held no magic, he believed it did. What more evidence did we need that he hadn't lost his memory? Whenever one of the servants who'd lost their memory went near the real gem, it had throbbed and glowed. It couldn't have done that for the king, ever, or he would have realized this one wasn't real when it didn't do it for him now.

  "Rebury the cabinet, Hammer," the king directed. "I have to piss. Theo, go through there and make sure no creatures lurk in those bushes." He indicated the forest beyond the cottage clearing with a flick of his wrist.

  Theodore set off but stopped when a twig in the direction he was heading snapped. Leaves rustled.

  "Wait here," Dane ordered. He drew his sword and sprinted toward the sound.

  I reached for Theodore's hand, needing the comfort as I watched Dane plunge into the bushes. Theodore's fingers gently squeezed mine.

  Dane disappeared from sight.

  A moment later, a shouted curse punched the air, sending birds screeching from the trees.

  My heart plunged. The shout had come from Dane, and it was filled with pain.

  Chapter 10

  I crashed through the forest underbrush, stumbling over my own two feet. Branches scratched my face, tugged at my hair and clothes, but I didn't care. Nothing mattered but Dane.

  Relief made my head feel light when I saw him sitting on the ground, alive. His foot was caught in an animal trap, the sharp teeth biting into his ankle above the boot. Blood dripped onto the leaf matter and dirt.

  I fell to my knees beside him. My hand skimmed over the bunched muscles in his jaw before turning my attention to the trap. "Don't move."

  "We'll pry it off," Theodore said, picking up a stick.

  The king knelt beside me. His breathing was labored, his face damp from sweat. "No need. This type has a small catch. Remove it and the trap springs open." He tugged on the catch until it came away, releasing the spring.

  Dane hissed as the teeth withdrew from his leg.

  "Don't move," I said again as he tried to get up. "Let me stem the bleeding first."

  I gently rolled up his pants leg and inspected the wound. The teeth had torn through flesh and lower calf muscle, but didn't appear to have reached the bone. I needed to clean the wound and inspect it properly to be certain.

  I tore off a strip of my own underskirt at the hem and tied it tightly above the wound before tying another strip around the wound itself. The blood flow had already begun to lessen by the time I finished, thank Hailia. He would not bleed to death.

  Dane tried to get up, but I pushed him back down.

  "Theodore, help him to stand," I said, indicating he should take Dane's other side.

  "I can do it," Dane said.

  "I don't want you
putting pressure on that leg. Put your arm around my shoulders."

  "Move aside, Mistress Cully," the king said, nudging me out of the way. "Ready, Theo?"

  Between them, they assisted Dane onto his good foot and headed back to the horses. Once in the saddle, Dane looked more comfortable, although his leg must have been throbbing.

  "Theo, the cabinet," the king said. "Make sure it's well buried."

  Dane tossed my cottage key to Theodore. "Lock the gate when you're done."

  We left the valet and set off along the path, through the gate, to the road. I glanced often at Dane, but either the pain had subsided or he was a master at masking it.

  "What in Merdu's name made you run off like that, Hammer?" the king asked. "It was probably only a pheasant."

  "Probably," was all Dane said.

  "You think it was poachers?" The king clicked his tongue. "Thieves. I'll inform Balthazar to order the foresters to search for traps before anyone else is injured."

  "No one else will get hurt," Dane said. "Nobody ventures that far from the palace."

  "Damned poachers."

  "The trap was most likely set by our own foresters, sire. They catch the wildlife and send it to the kitchen."

  "Those things are dangerous. I never liked them."

  Dane eyed the king from beneath lowered lids.

  "Somehow I remembered about the release catch," the king added quickly. "Isn't it odd how little things come to you yet you can't remember anything else?"

  Dane faced forward again.

  Theodore rejoined us before we reached the palace and handed the key back to Dane. Then he and the king peeled away to return to the stables. I rode with Dane through the gate, all the way to the garrison entrance, escorted by one of the guards.

  Dane refused his assistance to dismount, and he refused to be helped into the garrison. He limped to a chair, sitting with a small groan. Quentin and Max frowned at him as he rested his injured foot on another chair.

  "What happened?" Max asked.

  "You're bleeding!" Quentin looked to me. "What do we do? Get bandages? Do you have some of that milk stuff for the pain?"

  "I have nothing on me. Quentin, ride to my house. Tell Dora what's happened then bring back my medical pack. Grab the bottle of Mother’s Milk from the larder, and bandages from my father's surgery. Everything else I need will be in the bag."

  "I don't need the Mother’s Milk," Dane said.

  "You are truly the most stubborn man I've ever met. Now sit still. I'm going to remove the boot."

  "I can do it."

  "Did you hear me say sit still?"

  He grunted, but at least he didn't try to remove the boot himself.

  "What happened?" Max asked again.

  "Forester's trap," Dane said. "Just a small one, probably for rabbits."

  "Max, fetch clean water and cloth," I said as I unlaced Dane's boot.

  As the sergeant left the garrison, I gently pried the boot off, earning another hiss from Dane. I cupped his calf above the wound, where I'd tied the tourniquet, and the muscle slowly relaxed.

  "On a scale of one to ten, how painful is it?" I asked.

  "Bearable."

  "Can you wriggle your toes?"

  He wriggled them and showed no signs that it hurt.

  "Can you move your foot from side to side?"

  He did as asked, again giving no indication that it pained him.

  "Now move the foot up and down. Good," I said as he did it without wincing. "There's no major damage. I'll know more for certain once the wound is clean, but I'd say you've got nothing worse than a few cuts. You're lucky. I've seen men left with permanent limps after being caught in a trap."

  He swore under his breath and shook his head. "I was a fool. I know the forest is full of them."

  "It was the last thing on your mind."

  "Even so."

  "Do you think someone was there or was it just a pheasant, as the king suggests?"

  "Someone was there."

  Then that someone had seen the cabinet's hiding place, and if they didn't already know it contained the gem, they did now. "Where is the real gem?" I asked. "Your doublet?" We'd left the doublet behind but Theodore had picked it up. It must still be with him. "Dane?" I prompted when he didn't answer. "The real gem was in the cabinet. Wasn't it?"

  He hesitated. "I removed it some time ago. I thought it wise to separate the gem from the cabinet. The cabinet was easy to find."

  "Good thinking, I suppose, but I wish I'd known. I was worried the king would see you replacing it with the fake one. So where is it?"

  "Safe."

  I didn't press him. I knew he wouldn't tell me, no matter how many times I asked.

  "I trust you, Josie," he said. "I just don't want you put at risk. It's best if no one but me knows. If the king realizes we gave him a fake today, he can't pressure anyone into giving up the location of the real one."

  "He can pressure you."

  His gaze connected with mine. "That's a risk I can afford to take."

  Three guards entered and came to inspect the wound, only to be growled at by Dane. "You have work to do. And don't mention this to anyone. Understand?"

  They filed out again.

  "It's all right to admit you're in pain," I said. "It's not a weakness."

  "You think that's why I don't want them talking?" At my shrug, he added, "No one must know about this."

  "You think people won't continue to respect or fear you if you're injured?"

  He tilted his head to the side. "I don't want anyone knowing you're performing a medical task."

  "Oh." I stared down at the wound. "I see. Thank you."

  "Besides, no one fears me," he muttered.

  I smiled wryly.

  Max returned carrying a basin with a cloth over his arm. Behind him, Balthazar limped in.

  "I hear I have to lend you my stick," Balthazar said, brandishing his walking stick. "Will his foot fall off, Josie?"

  "No," I said with a smile.

  "Then what's all the fuss about? The sergeant made it sound like a disaster, but it seems you're enjoying Josie tending to you, Hammer."

  Dane glared at him but didn't rise to the bait.

  Balthazar leaned on his walking stick and peered down at the wounds as I cleaned them. If he hadn't made a small sound in the back of his throat, I wouldn't have looked up and seen his face drain of color.

  "Max, get Balthazar a chair," I said.

  Balthazar didn't say a word as Max helped him to a chair. He rested both hands on his walking stick and lowered his head.

  "Take some deep breaths," I told him. "And don't watch."

  Max placed cups of ale beside both Balthazar and Dane then fetched another for me.

  "How did you get your foot caught in a trap?" Max asked. "Or am I not supposed to know?"

  Dane told them about the rustle in the bushes near where the cabinet was buried, pausing only once when I cleaned the blood away from the deepest cut. The hand resting on his thigh curled into a fist before he resumed the story.

  "I think someone was watching us," Dane finished.

  "Should you remove the cabinet altogether?" Balthazar asked.

  "The gem is a fake. It doesn't matter if someone digs it up. It'll be no use to them."

  Theodore entered and enquired after Dane's injuries.

  "I'm fine," Dane said, shifting as if he intended to his leg off the chair.

  I caught it by the calf. "Don't move yet. Not until I've sutured the wounds."

  "They don't need suturing."

  I arched my brows. "Clearly you weren't a doctor before losing your memory, otherwise you'd know you need stitches. Since you're not a doctor, kindly keep your medical opinion to yourself. Now sit still until Quentin returns with my pack."

  He folded his arms over his chest, but thankfully he didn't protest further.

  Balthazar chuckled. "I knew he'd be a difficult patient."

  "Probably as difficult as you would be," I s
hot back.

  "The king wants me to report on your condition, Hammer," Theodore said. "He was asking after you. He was very worried."

  "Speaking of the king," Dane said, "I think it's time we confront him. We should tell him we know about the gem, the magic—"

  "No." Balthazar shook his head. "Not yet."

  Dane blew out a frustrated breath. "The plan was to learn as much about magic as we could before confronting him, but we've learned almost nothing."

  "Not true. We know about the wishes, the sorcerer, and the gem. What we don't know is what happens to us if the king dies."

  "We're not going to kill him!" Theodore cried. "Just ask him some questions."

  "You agree with Hammer?" Balthazar asked. "Listen. If we confront him, he'll deny it. If we present all the evidence we have, he'll either continue to deny it, or he'll feel as though we've backed him into a corner. Do either of you know what he'll do then?"

  Silence.

  "Neither do I," Balthazar said. "He's unpredictable."

  "This can't go on," Dane said. "I need to know my past." His gaze lifted to mine before darting away.

  "Lord Barborough is still here," Theodore said. "I propose we take him into our confidence and tell him about our memory loss."

  "No," both Dane and I said together.

  "He's more dangerous and unpredictable than the king," Dane added.

  "I don't think he'll give you the answers you need," I said. "He knows nothing about the memory loss or he would have asked me if it were true. I agree with the captain. It's time to confront the king. He's the only one with answers."

  "This isn't your decision to make, Josie," Balthazar said. "You're not involved."

  "I am involved."

  Balthazar sighed. "Young people," he muttered.

  "We could search Barborough's rooms," Theodore offered. "For books or notes."

  "I already have," Dane said. "I found nothing of interest."

  Theodore threw his hands in the air. "Then what do we do? Wait for the king to make a mistake? To accidentally give us a clue about our backgrounds?"

  The master of the palace pushed to his feet. "We do nothing, for now. Confronting him is a bad idea. At the very least, he'll dismiss us."