The Palace of Lost Memories

Chapter 5

I caught my first glimpse of the palace as we drove along the tree-lined avenue that led to the main gate. The symmetrical building was built from the same warm pale stone as much of Mull, but that was where the resemblance ended. The palace was three levels high with one wing stretching south and the other north. The entire length of gray slate roof was capped with gold, and gilded balustrades edged the roofline in an opulent statement. It was so bright in the sun that I couldn't stare at it for more than a moment. There was more to see, anyway. Much more.

The trees lining both sides of the avenue suddenly gave way to buildings fronted by columns and arches. Servants dressed in royal crimson and gold led horses in and out of the right building, while a carriage drawn by two black horses rolled through an arched entrance of the building to our left. These grand structures must be the coach house and stables.

"The horses live better than we do," I murmured.

Father didn't answer. He was too busy peering through the front window. The overwhelming sight of the palace up close was almost too much to take in. I didn't know where to look first. The gold-capped roof? The pink marble columns? Or the vast forecourt beyond the gate with its towering central fountain? Quentin was right. The palace did look tiny from Lookout Hill. Up close, it was enormous. The entire village of Mull could fit in it, with space to spare.

The captain rode ahead, and the guards manning the gate opened it for him. The gate itself was painted gold and topped by a golden statue of a warrior riding a chariot, brandishing a sword with a shield strapped to his arm. The House of Lockhart's coat of arms, featuring a key and a prancing deer, were picked out in gold relief on the shield, while the king's initials of LL made an impressive centerpiece on the gate.

My father gazed up at the statue and snorted. "He didn't win the kingdom through battle. I'd wager he's never lifted a sword in his life."

"Don't say that out loud around here," I warned. "Besides, we don't know if he has fought or not. We know nothing about him."

"Precisely."

We passed through the gate at a slower speed and into the expansive paved forecourt. Two identical long pavilions, fronted by high colonnades, faced each other across the area. They were not attached to the palace, but they seemed to guide visitors ever closer to it. Steps from the forecourt led to a smaller one paved in red, white and black marble. Water sprinkled from the fountain in the court's center. Beyond, the palace's main entrance was set back behind more pale pink marble colonnades.

It was not the only door, however. Others were dotted along the central part of the palace, between the statues set into the façade and the high windows of sparklingly clean glass. The upper levels sported more doors opening onto balconies.

I was so stunned by the palace that I almost missed the lady dressed in lustrous sage green silk climbing into a sedan chair carried by two burly men. An attendant closed the door and off she went across the larger forecourt toward the palace. It was quite some distance from the gate to the palace door, but surely she could walk?

Instead of heading toward the palace, we drove past one of the pavilions. It was bigger than the new customs house would be and just as grand. We did not stop there, however, but continued to a square building south of the pavilion, hidden from the forecourts. Smoke billowed from the chimney pots high above us and cooking smells blended into a miasmic stew in the air. Servants bustled in and out of the building, some dressed in palace uniforms, others in the colors associated with their house, and again others in maids' uniforms, kitchen garb or gardening clothing. I even recognized two Deerhorn servants.

We'd hardly stopped when a palace footman opened the carriage door. "This way," Captain Hammer said as his horse was led away by a groom.

Ogling servants stepped aside to allow him to pass. Father and I trailed behind, despite walking quickly to keep up. The servants watched the captain in eerie silence then turned those curious gazes upon us. One of the Deerhorn servants whispered to the other, nodding at Father and me. They knew who we were, and if the rest of the servants didn't, they soon would.