Captain Hammer's silent presence was a distraction. He stood inside the front door, his arms crossed, legs slightly apart, and watched us through the open door of Father's workroom as we tested and re-tested the contents of Lady Miranda's stomach. Without a sample of the poisoned food or liquid, we had only the evidence of her discharge to go by. It should be enough.
Father clicked his tongue. "Too much riverwart." He used the tongs to remove the small dish from the grill over the low fire and threw both dish and liquid into the pail near his feet. It was a terrible waste but we couldn't risk reusing a dish the poison had touched. "Damnation." He pressed a hand to his lower back and stretched. "Another, Josie."
I handed him a clean dish and scooped a coin-sized chunk of Lady Miranda's regurgitated meal onto it with a spoon. We had precious little left. "Should I halve the quantity of riverwart this time?"
"Try one third. Going by the speed at which it burned, I grossly overestimated the amount."
I handed him the bowl of ground riverwart but he shook his head. "You do it. My hands are shaking."
I'd noticed them trembling a while ago but hadn't pointed it out. He could be sensitive about his age on occasion, but I knew he'd ask me to take over if the trembling interfered with his ability to work. He might be somewhat vain about his age, but never to the detriment of a patient's wellbeing.
I added the requisite quantities of the six other ingredients that we'd identified for the antidote based on Father's old notes from a book I'd never seen him refer to before. We only had the riverwart to go. The painstaking process of testing and re-testing to find the right quantities of each ingredient had meant we'd taken longer than the hour. Father told me upon our arrival at the cottage that he'd only said that to give the patient hope. If she had hope, she might find the strength to fight and we needed her to fight. We'd be cutting it very fine to get back to her on time. It all depended on how much riverwart needed to be added to the other ingredients to neutralize the poison left in Lady Miranda's vomit.
I heard the front door open but did not turn around as I measured out the powder.
"Aren't they ready yet?" came the voice of the other sergeant, the one named Brant. "The hour has long passed."
"Go back outside," the captain growled.
My father left the workroom to speak to them. "It's a complicated process," I heard him hiss. "It's not a combination of poisons I've come across before and the ratios used are unknown. Traitor's ease is rare. Very rare. I've only seen it once in its raw form—years ago, in Zemaya. If you want us to work faster, you'll shut up so we can think."
I smiled. Father might seem like a meek professorial type of man, but two things stirred his passionate nature—the wellbeing of his patients, and when someone disparaged me.
"Shouldn't you be in there making the antidote?" Sergeant Brant said to him.
"My daughter is more than capable."
"Is she qualified?"
"She has a lot of experience."
"I'm sure the king would like to hear how the unqualified daughter of the local healer was left to create the antidote to save one of the most important ladies in the realm. We should have used the finance minister's doctor, as he offered."
"The king will receive a full report," was all the captain said. "Return to your post outside, Sergeant."
I heard the front door close. I added a lump of peat to the fire contained within the heatproof box set up on the desk and tipped the riverwart into the dish. Father rejoined me and watched as I mixed the powder with the other ingredients until it was fully dissolved then set the dish on the grill over the fire.
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The Palace of Lost Memories
FantasyThe king's magnificent palace was built in a matter of weeks. No one saw the builders, no villagers are allowed beyond the gilded gate, and only one servant has ever left. The haunted look in her eyes as she was recaptured by the palace guards is so...