“Ah, now I see.” She downed a large swallow from her glass and returned the grin, revealing a full set of straight, white teeth, completely at odds with everything else about her. “It’s that smile of yers what encouraged my Christy to trust herself to you.”
My Christy.The old woman’s words alluded to a close history between the two of them. Closer than he’d realized from what Christiana had told him.
“What was it you gave her to drink earlier? The stuff that put her to sleep. Narcotics of some sort?”
“I’m no familiar with this ‘narcotics’ you ask over. It’s a dwale I use, of course.” She gave him a look that said she thought him slow-witted. “Dangerous, it is, but helpful in small amounts to alleviate suffering. I keep some mixed at all times. You never can tell when you’ll need someone to drift away quickly.”
“What’s in it?”
She shrugged and lifted her tankard. “The usual. A bit of bile, some bryony. A touch of hemlock. Opium. Henbane. All steeped in wine to preserve them.”
“Jesus! That sounds like one potent mixture.”
Hemlock? Opium? For someone who claimed no knowledge of narcotics, she was this century’s version of a pharmacist.
“Aye. I told you it’s dangerous. You canna allow but a sip to pass yer lips. Just enough and no more.”
“Is that what Christiana came here to get, this dwale?”
“No,” Orabilis rose to her feet and hobbled overto the bubbling pot to give it a stir. “Though I’m sure she has a batch of her own on hand for treating the wounded. She is the healer at Tordenet. Surely yer aware of that, are you no? She’s here because she’s in need of all the regular herbs she uses for her healing. Most important of all her needs is that which yer grinding up for me right there.”
Chase looked down at the mixture in the bowl. A deep sniff of it told him very little. It smelled of mint and busy kitchens more than anything else. Not even a pinch on his tongue revealed anything other than what he could pull out of a spice rack.
“That’s a good job, you’ve done there, lad. Well mixed and finely crushed, it is. Here is the bag to fill for Christiana. Mind you doona spill. There’s none to waste this time of year.”
He accepted the big cloth bag but held off on transferring the contents of the bowl into it, curious about what these herbs were supposed to cure.
“What does she use this for? Why is this particular mixture so important to her?”What’s in it?was what he really wanted to ask, but he doubted the old woman would be so forthcoming with an answer on that one. Since Christiana had to come all the way out here to get it, chances were the old woman kept the ingredients as closely guarded as an old family recipe.
Orabilis seemed to consider his question, her back to him as she stirred her pot of stew. “If you doona already ken my Christy’s use for this, then Isuspect that’s for her to be telling you, no me. Her secrets are hers to share, no mine.”
That Christiana had a secret use for this mixture piqued his interest even more.
“Go ahead,” Orabilis urged, motioning with her spoon. “Put that into the bag. There’s nothing in there what will harm her, so you can put yer mind to rest on that question.”
That was a good first step, though it was far from satisfying his curiosity.
Holding the bag up to the side of the bowl, he carefully slid the contents inside, tapping the bottom to encourage every bit out. Almost every bit. When Orabilis turned her back, he slipped a handful from the bowl and tucked it away in the pouch hanging from his waist.
Orabilis might not think there was anything harmful in the mixture, but he’d like to know that for a fact. While he might not know one herb from another, his friend Hall knew more about them than anyone he’d ever met, these two women included.
There was only one way he could think of to discover Christiana’s secret that might be better than asking Hall’s help.
He could ask Christiana.
OceanofPDF.com
Eighteen
WHAT IS THAT?”
Halldor strained in his saddle to focus on the tiny colorful dot outside the walls of Tordenet. If not for the evil dwelling inside those walls, he’d swear it was a wagon belonging to...
“Tinklers,” Ulfr answered, his disgust showing through clearly. “Though I canna imagine why they’ve come to Tordenet. They’re no welcomed insideourgates.”
“You say that as if it’s something to take pride in. Tinklers bring luck to man’s home. If they’re welcomed, that is.”
“Bah.” Ulfr turned his head to spit on the ground. “They’re naught but filthy thieves and whores. Our lord Torquil has forbidden them entry.”