Herb-Witch (Lord Alchemist Duology) (25 page)

"I . . ."
She gasped for air. Found herself standing, bent over her counter.
She couldn't get enough air to scream. "I'm not some stray dog
for you to feed and take home."

"I
don't think you are!"

"Don't
you?" She stared at him, wishing she dared lash out with her
short fingernails. "Don't you want me chained in
your
yard, seeing who
you
let me see, going where
you
let me
go?"

He
stood stiffly, face set. His tone started out in tight reason. "If
I could trust you, it
would
be irrelevant to whom you gave
healing potions. But how can I know if you're poisoning someone else,
or healing a murderer? You won't
tell
me!" He caught
himself, bringing his voice from near-boil to tense simmer. "If
you've some swain you're meeting, I'd not–"

She
burst out in bitter laughter, cutting him off – and cut off
herself when the bitter threatened to overflow from her eyes. "If
you're going to mock me, get out. You've not that right."
And
if you break me from the guild . . . shadows may yet
be waiting.

Kymus
took an angry breath, hands fisted at his side. Then he let it out
and looked away. "No. I do not." He bowed, stiffly. "I
beg your forgiveness, Tradeswoman."

Emotions
and confusion whiplashed into a knot in her throat, strangling her
voice. He didn't wait – just turned and walked out.

He
left the basket.

Kessa
slumped onto her counter, head in her arms. Somewhere in the back of
her mind, she hoped Brague'd bring her knife back. She'd a spare, but
it wasn't as good.

From
a long way away, she heard the carriage leave, the horses' hooves
clopping on the brick.

Shortly
after, someone tapped on the door.

Kessa
sat up, wiping her face while the insides of her head swirled to
match her stomach's roiling. "Yes?"

An
older woman peered in – blue eyes, a fading, minor tan across
her nose, and two thick braids of chestnut hair, streaked with
dignified gray, that was as dark as hair got without barbarian blood.
Her hat and scarf were knitted in brown and green, respectively.
Kessa dropped her gaze politely and asked, "Can I help you?"

"I
hope so." The woman came in. Her coat and skirt were lighter
brown, with darker green trim – felt and wool, with good, warm
boots. "I've run short on mint, and happened to be in the area.
The baker across the way said you might have some. I hope this isn't
an imposition."

Kessa
made herself smile, closing her eyes and lifting her head. "No.
Of course not." She slid from the stool and held onto the
counter to let the dizziness pass.

The
woman – perhaps an inch taller than Kessa herself, if that –
was at her elbow, unexpectedly. "Dear, are you all right?"

"I . . .
missed breakfast." She summoned up another faint smile. "Busy
working."

"Oh,
I know how
that
is. Is this your breakfast on the sill?"

"I
suppose."

Her
customer was poking into the basket before Kessa could think of a
polite way to stop her. "Oh, good, sliced bread with drained
stew. Here, sit and eat. The mint will wait." She set aside a
woven-stick tray of herbs and perched on the deep window-ledge,
patting the wood beside her.

Better
to be commanded by someone who might pay and vanish. Kessa sat,
taking the folded pocket of bread she was handed.

It
was good. It was excellent. She was starving. After a moment, she
swallowed and remembered to say, "If you'd like anything . . ."

"Bah.
I had a sweet-roll across the way, and breakfast early." She
patted her stomach. "I've people who come and remind me if I
don't, though!"

"Mm."
Kessa studied the buttons on the woman's coat, and the spread of her
lightly tanned fingers as they rested on her skirted knee, with green
at the corners of her nails. Kessa finished the bread-pocket,
swallowed, and said, "Thank you for reminding me, then . . .
Herbmaster?"

The
woman laughed. "I've been uncovered. How did you know, dear?"

Kessa
tipped her fingers (so dark, in comparison) at the master
herb-witch's own hand. "Your fingers. The shape of your hand.
They're like your daughter's."

"And
you watch people's hands a lot, don't you?" Herbmaster Keli
reached towards Kessa's face. "May I?"

Nicia'd
probably talked about her. Kessa sighed. "I'd rather spare you."

"I've
likely seen worse, child. My mother was a midwife, and we shan't
discuss the time Nicia got into the Purgatorie when she'd just
started walking. May I?"

Is
this what mothers are like?
Would Nicia's boiling enthusiasm
mellow into a focused heat like this? Kessa supposed she should be as
irritated as if Kymus had demanded similar . . . Mayhap she
was too tired to fight off anyone
else
. Mayhap it was the
casual gossip about poor Nicia. "All right," Kessa sighed,
and let her chin be taken in a warm, firm hand, while Herbmaster Keli
brushed her concealing hair aside.

The
elder herb-witch's eyebrows furrowed, revealing brief unease before
she could focus on some other thought. "You poor child. Has no
one offered to cure you?"

Kessa
turned her head away. "It's too expensive."

"Mm.
A hurdle, I suppose. There are loans–"

"No!"
She took a breath. "No, Herbmaster. I'm . . . I
don't want to owe anyone ever again."

"Certainly
no one like Darul Reus."

Kessa
froze. "Ah . . ."

"Child,
I'm the
Herbmaster
, the officer who usually deals with
difficulties involving herb-witches. Except when Master Kymus decrees
the matter 'under personal investigation.'"

What
do you know?
Kessa wanted to wail. "Do you really need the
mint, Herbmaster?" she asked miserably.

"Actually,
yes. I dislike lying. But I also wanted to meet my daughter's new
friend, whom our Guild Master thought fascinating enough
not
to hand to me.
Did
you dose that moneylender?"

Kessa
put her face in her hands and thought Maila'd been mother enough.

"Child."
Herbmaster Keli put a hand on Kessa's shoulder. "Child, it's all
right. From what I've found of Tagget's Tonic, Darul Reus should
never've been affected as he was. There was a mix of potions. It was
an accident."

Kymus
was researching it . . . Her, too?
She gave in and
asked, "What's he told you?"

"Kymus?
Hardly anything. But I can put together a passable recipe when the
ingredients are dumped on my desk. First a note about a
potion-mixing, then a general statement about wanting the alchemist
who'd supplied preparations to the man, and then another letter to me
personally, asking what I knew of an herb-witchery called 'Tagget's
Tonic'? Now I find his carriage front of your shop, and . . ."
She sighed, in an almost-growl in her throat. "Child, he's not
been
harassing
you, has he?"

Earth
and Rain, I'm in the middle of guild politics.
Right where she'd
never wanted to be. She hoped they weren't so dangerous as the Shadow
Guild's. "N-no."

"Because
if he has, my dear, I
am
the Herbmaster. I won't stand for him
bullying an herb-witch just because he's Lord Alchemist. I speak for
herb-witches, and I can speak very loudly indeed." She paused.
"I heard yelling from outside. And saw wincing dramsmen."

Kessa
might've smiled if she'd not been so desperate to get out of the
middle of
politics
. "I– It's all right. Really. I
probably started it."

"Started
it?" Her voice suggested eyebrows raised to the ceiling.

"I . . .
yelled at him first. The other day. About the guardsmen letting
someone get away."

"Oh,
that
. The city watch notified me, since it concerned an
herb-witch." The Herbmaster tapped her fingers on her leg.
"Child, they said you were in the middle of the cloud."

"What?"
Don't stare, don't stare, don't salt the land of this
conversation . . .
"The ones in the middle
collapsed. The other one, closest to me, dashed off."

"Pfft,
boys and their toys. Well, you must have high tolerances, or Kymus
wouldn't have asked to teach you – yes, Nicia was excited that
she might be learning with a friend. There are so few women
alchemists, and almost none have herb-witch backgrounds."
Herbmaster Keli sniffed, as if this were a personal slight.

"I . . .
don't know if he still wants me as a student." Kessa didn't
understand why that came out miserable.

"Oh?
Why not?"

She
stared at her clasped hands on her knees. "I was out late,
delivering the potions your daughter helped me with. I was
dressed . . ." She sighed, and hiked up her skirt
to show the pants underneath. "I knew I'd be coming back late,
and didn't want to attract attention. The Guild Master was out as
well. There was a . . . misunderstanding."

"Oh,
Rain and Earth – he was on his little night patrol and mistook
you for a criminal?"

Or
not the criminal he already knew.
At least this agreed with Tag's
warning about Kymus and night patrols. Unless this conversation was
all the Guild Master's plan. "I guess. I ran. His man caught me.
He demanded to know why I was out, who I was delivering to. It's not
his business!"

"Well,
of course not. Did you get swatted with one of their little toys?
Really, you'd think they were playing soldiers . . ."

Kessa
twitched a hand, but didn't touch her cheek. The potion had tingled
numbly, filling her mouth with bittersweet a moment after. It
might've slowed her, letting Brague catch up. "Toys?"

"Some
kind of sleeping potion or paralyzing one. It's in these hollow
batons." Herbmaster Keli made nearly-obscene gestures. "Break
the vial inside somehow, and the potion drips down to the tip."

"Ah.
No. I suppose I wasn't much threat." She'd not wanted to hurt
Brague, nor find how dirty the dramsman likely fought.

"I'd
assume at least his bodyguard had one." Herbmaster Keli went on,
"So why'd you not say you were on a mission of healing?"

"I
did! But it's none of his business
who
I'm healing. It won't
come back to harm the guild."

"So
that was his excuse to be nosy? Pfft." The Herbmaster dug in the
basket and pulled out another slice of bread wrapped around meat and
vegetables. "Here, eat this. It looks like Tania's work."

"Mmfoo?"
Kessa asked through a bite.

"Kymus'
cook. Truly excellent. Wonderful women, her and her sister. Ah, a
keeper-pot and stew. Smells delightful. Why's he feeding you, child?"

"I
don't know, Herbmaster. I'd not gotten breakfast when the guards
arrested me last fiveday, and hadn't money, so he bought rolls,
and . . . made a habit of it."

"Mm-hm."
The Herbmaster pushed herself up and wandered around the shop while
Kessa ate, much as Kymus had, though she restricted herself to
sniffing a few things. She glanced back, braids swinging, and Kessa
dropped her eyes.

"Child,
if he's been harassing you, I
will
take action. Master Rom
told me about the mutilated account book that moneylender had, but
the long and the short of it is: what you gave Darul Reus shouldn't
have disminded him, and if you'd wanted him dead, there are at least
five nearly-untraceable poisons which are easier to make. I'll not
let Master Kymus hold this over your head as blackmail."

I've
an ally? No, don't be stupid.
Likely the older woman was just
moving to claim a piece. "He's not spoken . . .
of outright blackmail, Herbmaster."

The
Herbmaster put her hands on her hips. "
Implicit
blackmail?"

"Not . . .
spoken." Did he have to, their first meeting hanging over her
head like a blade?

"Oh,
men can be so
obtuse
," Herbmaster Keli muttered. "All
right, I'd thought it'd be out of character for him to resort to
such. So . . ."

Kessa
concentrated on chewing her last bite, uneasy that the older woman
waited until she'd swallowed.

"How
good
does
he think your tolerances are, Kessa?"

"High,"
Kessa managed. "Enough to be his student."

"Mmm-hmmm."
Herbmaster Keli crossed her arms and leaned against the counter.
"Child, Kessa, do you know how many people in Cymelia are known
to be immune?"

"Immune
to what?" Kessa whispered, lifting her eyes as high as she
dared.

"To
alchemy and herb-witchery that affects the mind and alters the body.
There are two. Master Kymus, and his brother and heir, Iasen –
who's not been tested with the dramsman's draught, but has tested
himself with just about everything else." She sniffed
disdainfully. "It'd be a disaster for the guild if
he
took over."

"It
would?" Kessa wasn't just in the middle of guild politics; she
was
hip deep
in the middle of guild politics, and sinking.