The Whisper of Silenced Voices

by C. J. Archer

  "Send a message to the palace if you need me. I'll come as soon as I can."

  "Thank you."

  He returned to the other rock, putting all his weight on his good leg.

  "You should be off that foot entirely," I said.

  "That's not possible."

  "You don't have to patrol The Row personally. Your men can do it."

  "And they will. I have to be present at the palace. The situation there requires my full attention."

  "Are you referring to the king knowing that Lord Morgrave was murdered?"

  "That's part of it. Knowing Morgrave was poisoned doesn't seem to concern him as much as his own health. His chest pains have returned, making him irritable. He won't listen to advice because, as he put it, he shouldn't have to change his diet. He should feel fine."

  "'Should,'" I echoed.

  "He suspects the gem's magic didn't work, but I don't think he suspects it's a fake. Theodore overheard him grumbling to himself that it must have weakened; we assume he meant the magic. We can only hope he continues to think that way."

  "He will work it out, Dane. You know he will."

  He leaned his elbows on his knees again and lowered his head. "Hopefully Balthazar's plan will come together before then and we can confront the king while he still trusts us."

  "What is Balthazar's plan?"

  "He hasn't been forthcoming with details, but it involves blackmailing the king. Part of the plan involves needing the king to continue to trust us."

  "Something he won't do if he realizes you swapped the real gem for a fake one."

  It seemed too precarious and unreliable. Surely Balthazar could have worked out a safer plan than that—one that couldn't go wrong in so many ways.

  We both sat on our rocks and stared out to sea, watching the waves break gently against the shore and the gulls soar through the air. A ship sat on the horizon, a mere speck in the vast landscape spread before us.

  It was quiet, uncomplicated perfection.

  "I wish I could stay," Dane said heavily. "But I have to get back."

  "May I come to the palace tomorrow?" I asked on a whim. "I'd like to see how Remy and Dora are fitting in."

  "Of course. The men are always happy to see you."

  I wanted to ask if he was always happy to see me too, but I bit my tongue. "Don't get sand in your wounds," I said, watching him hobble to the water.

  He waded in until he was waist deep then plunged into the waves and swam. I watched until he was level with the heads, where he stopped and looked back. He waved and set off again.

  Once he was out of sight, I trudged back up the stairs and returned to Meg's house.

  Remy jumped up, when he saw me enter the commons courtyard, and threw his arms around me.

  "Good morning, Remy," I said, laughing. "Have you settled into life in the palace?"

  "It's ginormous!" he said, taking my hand. "I've been lost three times already."

  "That's because you keep wandering off," said one of the maids, rising from a chair positioned in the corner of the courtyard. She was of middling age, with soft brown eyes and wide hips. She smiled, revealing two rows of perfect teeth. "You're Mistress Cully, aren't you?"

  I smiled back. "Yes. How did you know?"

  "I've seen you here before, and your name has come up numerous times. My name is Olive."

  "You're tutoring Remy?"

  "And some of the servants who wish to learn too. Remy is my only student at the moment. The others are busy." She ruffled his hair as he passed her. "It's different, teaching a child, but enjoyable."

  "You're doing a wonderful thing. If all the children could be tutored, Mull would be the smartest village in Glancia."

  She leaned closer and whispered, "I might have been a governess before."

  "Perhaps you were, although I'd wager your schoolroom was nothing like this one." I indicated the vast courtyard and the dozens of servants crossing back and forth, some stopping at the fountain to wash or enjoy a chat, others hurrying to the kitchens, laundries, or workrooms housed within the square building.

  Remy trotted back to me, holding a slate. "Look what Olive gave me. It's for writing on. When I'm finished, I just wipe it off. See?" He rubbed the writing out with his hand.

  "You're supposed to use the rag," Olive chided.

  "Sorry, Olive."

  She smiled wistfully, and I suspect she was wondering if she had children and if they missed her.

  "Is your mother working?" I asked Remy.

  He nodded. "In the kitchen. She chops and stirs. She's real good at it."

  "I saw how good she was when you lived with me."

  "I liked your house," Remy said, quite seriously. "But I like the palace more. It's ginormous! Did you see it?"

  "It's rather hard to miss," I said, trying to contain my smile.

  "There's gold all over it, and that pink stuff is marble. Olive says it's expendive."

  "Expensive," Olive corrected.

  "The fountain is ginormous too! My ma says I'm not allowed to swim in the fountains. It's against Captain Hammer's rules."

  "I suspect there are a lot of rules to remember."

  He tucked the slate under his arm and counted items on his fingers. "Don't swim in fountains or lakes, don't leave the service parts of the palace, don't ask anyone where they came from, don't steal, don't talk to lords and ladies or the king. He held up his hand, all five fingers extended. "See, I remembered them. There are five, one for each finger."

  "So few."

  "Five's a lot!"

  "Josie!" cried a familiar accented voice.

  I turned around, only to be scooped up by a big guard with long ropey blond hair. Erik's hug lifted me off my feet.

  "Are you here to learn too?" he asked, setting me down again.

  "Josie can already read and write real well," Remy said. "Come on, Erik, you're late." Remy took Erik's hand and tugged him toward the chairs in the corner.

  "You're learning too?" I asked, following them and Olive. "I didn't know you couldn't read and write."

  "Not in this language," Erik said. "Except for Erik. E.R.I.K. The captain showed me the letters on the roster. Quentin tried to teach me more but he makes me yawn." He made a grand show yawning and stretching his arms over his head.

  Remy giggled, and Erik ruffled the boy's hair and grinned.

  "Olive is a good teacher," he went on. "She does not make me yawn. And she is a beautiful woman, so I want to be here."

  "Stop it," Olive said, laughing. "He's such a flirt, and not just with me. All the young maids are half in love with him."

  "I can well believe it," I said.

  Erik crossed his arms, puffing out his chest and making his muscles bulge. "Not Josie. She is a friend, not lover. Hammer would not like it if I kissed her. Sorry, Josie, I know this will make you sad, but I like my face looking this good." He laughed, so I wasn't quite sure if he was serious or not.

  "What's a flirt?" Remy asked, blinking up at Erik.

  "A handsome man with a big co—"

  "Erik!" both Olive and I cried.

  "A big opinion of himself," I said quickly. "Olive, I think Erik needs some vocabulary lessons too."

  Olive pointed at one of the chairs. "Sit down, Erik, and listen. There are certain words you cannot say to children. Perhaps I'll give you a private lesson later and we can go through what some of those words are."

  Erik winked at her. "I would like a private lesson with you, Olive."

  Poor Olive flushed to the roots of her hair. "That's not what I meant. Truly," she added for my benefit. "It's not."

  Remy resumed his seat and leaned toward Erik. Erik leaned down so the boy could whisper in his ear, albeit loudly. "I already know the word you were going to say. You better not say it in front of my ma. She'll yell at you too." No doubt he'd heard that word and worse in The Row.

  "Some ladies do not like to hear it," Erik said on a sigh. "But some do. I am still learning which do and which do not. Maybe O
live can teach me the difference in our private lesson." He beamed at her.

  She blushed again and fought back a smile.

  I left them to their education and was about to leave the commons to head to the garrison when Dora hailed me. She crossed the courtyard with another kitchen maid, a basket over her arm. "What a nice surprise," she said, smiling. "Have you come to see Remy?"

  "And you, but I didn't want to interrupt while you were working," I said. "Have you settled in?"

  She nodded. "Morna is going to show me where to pick fresh herbs in the garden. It's my first time there, and this place is so big. I don't want to get lost."

  "I know where the kitchen garden is. I can take you if Morna has other duties to attend to."

  "I'd be grateful, miss," Morna said, bobbing a curtsy.

  Dora cast a glance toward Remy, sitting on a chair too large for him, writing something on his slate. "He's very enthusiastic about learning."

  "I'm pleased," I said, heading out of the commons with her. "I worried about him being here with only adults for company."

  "I'm worried too. I'm also worried what the king will say when he finds out. None of the other servants have children at the palace. I'm not even sure if any of them have children at all, or are even married. None wear wedding rings."

  I remained silent as we left the commons behind and headed south.

  "They might not have been able to afford rings, I suppose," she went on. "But I can't ask. The captain forbade it. He said if they want me to know anything about themselves, they'll offer me the information."

  We continued on, leaving the palace behind. "There are trees in that building," she said, looking to our right.

  "That's the greenhouse. It's where they grow fruit trees."

  "Those trees live better than me and Remy used to," she muttered. "You know, I always thought magic had something to do with creating this place, like everyone says. It's amazing and beautiful and grand, like nothing I could have imagined. It is magical. But the staff are ordinary folk. They don't talk fancy, they don't look different or act different to us. They have secrets, but don't we all?"

  We veered left and entered the walled kitchen garden. We both took a moment to take in the scale of it, but I shouldn't have been surprised. It took a lot of vegetables to feed hundreds of nobles and almost a thousand servants. Dora's basket suddenly looked too small, even for herbs.

  One of the gardeners escorted us to the herb section and helped us pick several bunches. He asked us a lot of questions about ourselves. Dora and I asked none.

  At one point I looked up and saw Lord Barborough pass by outside the garden entrance, heading away from the palace. It was an odd part of the estate for him to use. Few nobles were interested in the functional greenhouse and kitchen garden, although they were attractive in their own right. Thankfully he didn't see me. I didn't want a confrontation.

  We were about to leave the walled garden when Sergeant Brant strode past too. He glanced through the entrance but didn't see me, and continued on his way. He'd been heading in the same direction as Lord Barborough, toward the lake where I'd secretly met with Dane, and Kitty and Miranda. It was a secluded spot behind the dense line of trees separating the avenue from the lawn surrounding the lake.

  Dora hoisted her basket higher and we headed back to the commons, but I stopped after only a few paces. "Do you know your way?" I asked.

  "It's straightforward. Where are you going?"

  "To the lake down there." I pointed. "If I haven't returned by lunchtime, tell the captain."

  "Is everything all right?"

  "It's just a precaution."

  We parted and I hurried along the avenue. Brant was far ahead. Too far to make out his face, or for him to identify me. Even so, I remained well back until he disappeared into the trees.

  I followed until I reached the same spot. The two men were visible through the trees, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. I crouched low and headed toward them, careful not to step on any dry leaves or twigs. I huddled into a dense bush that shielded me from them, and listened.

  "I've seen it," Brant was saying. "With my own two eyes."

  Lord Barborough made a scoffing sound.

  "I have!" Brant clutched Barborough's shoulder, the one attached to his useless arm.

  "Unhand me," his lordship demanded.

  Brant let go, but not before giving him a violent shake. "Listen," he hissed. "I know where to find it. I ain't lying. Why would I?"

  "For money," Barborough said.

  "I don't want money. I want answers."

  "To what questions?"

  "I can't say," Brant said, scrubbing a hand over his unshaved jaw.

  "Then I'm not interested." Lord Barborough tugged on the hem of his doublet. "Good day."

  So Brant hadn't told him about the memory loss. I was relieved but surprised. Had he not told Barborough because he didn't trust him? Or because he understood the dangers of discussing it with outsiders, particularly a lord from Vytill?

  "Isn't this what you wanted?" Brant asked. "The sorcerer's magic? It's in the gem. I know it is."

  "I told you, I'm not interested right now."

  "I saw the king use it."

  Barborough tilted his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

  "He held it and spoke some words to it."

  "You didn't hear the words?"

  Brant shook his head. "I couldn't get close enough."

  "Do you have an inkling what he asked of it?"

  Brant merely shrugged.

  Barborough muttered something I couldn't hear then asked, "Where is the gem now?"

  "North west of the palace. It's too hard to give directions. I have to show you. Today. Now."

  Barborough rubbed his forefinger over his top lip and glanced across the lake, toward the palace. "I can't. I have an important meeting with the king and his advisors which I can't put off."

  "A meeting," Brant scoffed. "I'm prepared to show you the sorcerer's gem and you want to go to a meeting!"

  "I'm about to secure an alliance between Glancia and Vytill. This meeting is of the utmost importance, and until it's over, it requires my full attention. I expect it to take all day. There are a lot of details to discuss."

  Brant took a step away then suddenly rounded on Barborough. He stabbed his finger in his lordship's face, a mere inch from his nose. "Isn't it what you want? The gem? The source of the magic?"

  "What I want is to not have my head on a spike," Barborough snarled through gritted teeth.

  "I don't understand."

  "Of course you don't.

  Brant might not understand, but I did. Lord Barborough had to get results for the king of Vytill or be executed for murder. The results the king desired most was his daughter's hand in marriage to King Leon. Failing that, he wanted a Glancian civil war. Now that Lady Morgrave was no longer the king's favorite, it would seem he was seriously considering marrying Princess Illiriya. So much so that he needed to discuss terms with the Vytill representative. Events were moving in the direction Vytill—and Lord Barborough in particular—wanted. No wonder he looked so pleased. Not only had he almost secured the marriage, but the gem was within his grasp too. He'd almost achieved everything, but the marriage alliance came first.

  Brant threw his hands in the air. "I'm going to talk to the dukes. They'll be interested in what I have to say."

  Barborough raced after him and caught his arm. Brant shook him off, unbalancing Barborough. His lordship tumbled backward and fell to the ground.

  Brant sneered down at him.

  Lord Barborough lurched to his feet and thrust out his chin. "Don't speak to them. Wait until I'm free. Tomorrow, at the latest."

  Brant's sneer vanished. He met Barborough's glare, matching it with his own fierce one. Neither seemed willing to look away first. "Will you be able to use the gem to find the answers to my questions?" Brant asked.

  "Considering I don't know your questions, I cannot say."

 
"But you can use the gem's magic, can't you? You know how?"

  "I can't use the magic, only the king can. He's the one who found the gem and freed the sorcerer. Until all three wishes are spoken, that gem is for the king's use only. So don't expect me, or anyone else, to steal one of the wishes. It can't be done."

  Brant cocked his head to the side and rested a hand on his sword hilt at his hip. "That better not be a lie."

  Barborough's gaze momentarily fluttered in the direction of Brant's sword before rising again. "So you'll show me where it is tomorrow?"

  Brant hesitated. "I'll meet you back here in the morning." He turned and strode off, passing a short distance from me.

  I remained utterly still, hardly breathing, and watched Lord Barborough. After several moments of staring across the lake, he turned and left too.

  I waited some time before leaving my hiding place and returning to the commons. I found Dora chopping herbs in the kitchen, along with four other women all wearing white aprons over palace uniforms. She greeted me with a smile but it was the conversation of the others that interested me.

  "I heard he's real sick," one said.

  "His heart," said another with all the authority of a doctor.

  "Just like Lord Morgrave," said the first with a shake of her head.

  "He died of poisoning, not a heart problem. Haven't you heard?"

  A finger stabbed into my shoulder, and I turned around. The head cook crossed his arms, resting them on his stomach. "You're disturbing my staff," he barked.

  I backed away. "I was just—"

  "Get out."

  "But—"

  "Out!"

  All activity ceased. Kitchen hands looked up from their chopping boards and pots, and stopped rushing between tables and fireplaces. The hiss of fat dripping onto coals from the roasting pork seemed unnaturally loud in the cavernous space.

  "I'm going," I assured the cook.

  I felt his glare on my back until I'd left the kitchen behind.

  I crossed the courtyard but stopped suddenly. Brant stood talking to a palace footman, his hand on the footman's arm. The footman shrugged but Brant didn't seem pleased with the response. The footman pointed to another fellow dressed in the Duke of Gladstow's livery as he headed out of the commons.