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“It responded to a potion I have that counters the effect of magic. It wouldn’t have broken a spell meant to make you unconscious, but if the unconsciousness was a side effect of another spell, it would wake you, and it did. But it didn’t restore your memory.”
“Which means it was a memory spell?”
“Maybe. My knowledge of magic is extremely limited. I know only enough for healing and to have some potions to counter magical injuries.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He didn’t sound angry, merely curious.
“I was worried about affecting your memory. If I told you too much, you might have developed false memories based on that knowledge, and then you later wouldn’t have known what was real. But as long as this has gone on, I might as well tell you now. I’m not sure anything will affect you at this point.”
Later that morning, she looked out the kitchen window to see him swinging the sword as though he was fighting. He looked like a little boy playing at being a knight, but unless the spell blocking his memory had also blocked his knowledge of swordsmanship in a way it hadn’t blocked his memories of herbs and cooking, she doubted he’d ever been a knight. She went out to the garden and barely held back her laughter. “What?” he asked, noticing her presence and her smile.
“Is that what you think knights do?”
“I was exercising. Rebuilding my strength.” His waves of the sword became much more regular, straight up and down and from side to side rather than lunging at an invisible opponent.
She came around behind him, caught his arm, and guided it through the major positions for fencing. That brought back the memory of the duke doing the same thing with her as he helped her to understand what the knights did so she could better see to their injuries and make sure they were able to fight again. “Like this,” she coached. “Don’t swing so widely. You want to keep your sword so that it defends your body. When you swing so far to the side or up or down, it leaves you open for your opponent to strike.”
“Which may be how I got that wound. I let my opponent reach me.”
“Possibly. Your wound was in the gap between the breastplate and pauldron that shows when you raise your arm too much, and since your armor didn’t fit properly, it left a bigger gap than it should have. You also should have had something under the armor to protect that gap, such as mail or a padded doublet.”
He turned around within her grasp so that he was facing her, his eyes bright blue in the sunshine and directly in front of her gaze. That also reminded her of the fencing lesson with the duke and what it had led to, and she quickly released him and stepped backward. “So perhaps I had a sword I didn’t know how to use when I needed it to defend myself,” he said, seemingly oblivious to the way he’d affected her. “But I still wonder what I was doing wearing armor that didn’t fit and with a sword I didn’t know how to use, apparently fighting someone who also had a sword.”
“If we knew that, it would solve a lot of mysteries about you.”
“I was hoping using the sword would bring something back, but if I’d ever known how to use a sword, that seems to have gone with my other memories.” He took a step closer to her, closing the distance she’d opened. “I am curious how you know so much. You said you treated fighters after tournaments, but how did you learn how to use a sword?”
“When I was working at the duke’s court, I observed the knights in training. The duke even taught me a little so I’d better understand how knights might get hurt and what they needed to be able to do when they recovered, but I’m no fighter.”
“You’ve known all along that I was never really a knight, haven’t you?”
“I don’t know anything. I merely guessed. You weren’t wearing the right gear under the armor, and you didn’t have the physique of the knights I’ve known.”
“And you didn’t tell me this because you didn’t want to influence my memory?”
“Exactly.” She winced and added, “I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s actually something of a relief. If I were a knight, it seems like I’d have been a terrible one.”
“But you do seem to have the heart of a knight,” she said, reaching out to him and giving his arm a squeeze.
“Well, that’s the important part, isn’t it?” he said with a grin.
“Now that I think about it, it’s not much of a compliment, considering some of the knights I’ve known. All that stuff about honor is mostly in books and songs. The real ones can often be unpleasant. What you know is far more valuable.”
“I did valiantly come to your rescue.”
“That you did.”
“Though not quite as valiantly as the chicken.”
“I’m not sure how much of that was valor and how much was meanness.”
“It was well-targeted meanness that was a little uncanny, if you ask me. How much do you know about the Chicken Lady?”
“Not much. No one even seems to know her name. She’s not mentioned in the healer’s log book, so she must be fairly healthy. She’s generous with the eggs, and she always has at least one chicken on or around her.”
“This village is full of mysteries. And now I’m one of them. So we know I’m probably not a knight, in spite of being armed, I’m literate, I know herbs, and I know how to cook. The valet theory is the best we’ve got. Maybe we were attacked and my master was captured. Have we heard anything about missing noblemen?”
