Elle felt horrible. Hand resting on her tender belly, she allowed Curtis to lead her out onto the main avenue. He took her over to the well, and although it was considered unsafe by some to drink water that had not been boiled, the well of Rhayader had its own cup next to the spring that popped up straight from the ground. Elle had drunk from it a hundred times in the past. Curtis filled the small metal cup with water straight from the spout and gave it to her, and she drank gratefully.
But she still didn’t feel any better.
As she sat on the stone well, waiting for her belly to settle, Melusine caught sight of her. She rushed to Elle’s side, and the situation became a conversation between Melusine and Curtis, both expressing concern that Elle was feeling poorly. Meanwhile, Elle was becoming increasingly upset that they were fussing over her. Melusine, in particular, was convinced Elle had a deadly disease, to the point where Curtis sent her back to theescort and told her to wait there. He could see that Elle was about to throttle the woman. When he was convinced that Elle wasn’t going to vomit again, he took her down the street, to the lair of the apothecary.
It was most definitely a lair.
A deep, dark, and mysterious place with a wooden panel over the door that had an eye on it. Just an eye. Curtis had been here before, twice, because his wife liked to talk to the apothecary and peruse the ointments he had for softening the skin of her hands, which tended to dry and crack. She’d never really been able to afford anything in his shop before, other than the sleeping potion she’d once purchased for Gruffydd, but now that she had a nearly endless supply of coin, this was her favorite place.
The apothecary’s name was Pliny.
He was a rather odd fellow, tall and thin, with stringy snow-white hair, that flowed past his shoulders. He wore black robes that smelled strangely. He was bent over a table when Elle and Curtis entered the shop, and his narrow face lit up at the sight of what was now his best customer.
He went to greet them.
“Lady Leominster,” he said, using her formal title. “It is pleasant to see you again. You have brought your strong husband with you, I see.”
Elle nodded. “I have,” she said. “He has insisted that I see you. I told him that you are a physic, and—”
Pliny cut her off. “I am, I am,” he said quickly. “I trained as a physic but found my calling to be experiments and discovery.”
Elle smiled weakly. “I have not been feeling well over the past several days,” she said hesitantly. “My belly has been… uneasy. I’m wondering if you have a tonic for it.”
Pliny swept his hand toward a door at the rear of the cottage. “Let us go somewhere that we may speak in private,” he said. Then he waved at Curtis. “You will come, too, my lord.”
He was walking into the adjoining chamber as Elle and Curtis followed. The ceiling of the cottage sloped, so by the time they reached the smaller chamber, Curtis was in danger of hitting his head. As he tried to duck the beams on the ceiling, Elle explained her predicament.
“Can’t you simply give me something to settle my stomach?” she asked. “I fear I ate something that must have gone bad and I did not realize it.”
The small chamber had a few chairs and an enormous wardrobe in it. Pliny indicated for Elle to sit on one of the chairs.
“Let us make sure that is all it is,” he said. “It is wise to know what your symptoms are before giving you a potion that may not help, is it not?”
Elle looked anxiously at Curtis, who nodded his head. “It is,” he said. “It started several days ago. She feels sick during the day, but mostly in the mornings. Right now, she ate some bread and it came back up again.”
Pliny looked between the pair thoughtfully. “No fever?”
“No fever.”
“Any swooning or spells of bad temper?”
Curtis lifted his eyebrows as he looked at Elle. “No swooning,” he said. “But the bad temper… Wearespeaking of Elle, after all.”
He was teasing her, and she sneered at him as Pliny fought off a grin. “You and your wife have not been married long, have you?”
Curtis shook his head. “You would know that,” he said, a knowing twinkle in his eye. “Everyone in this village knows that. We’ve only been married two months.”
“Since the siege at Brython Castle,” Pliny said.
“Exactly. It is no secret.”
Pliny shrugged, looking back to Elle. “My lady, I must ask you some questions, and you will answer me truthfully.”
Elle was growing increasingly anxious about the situation. “Why?” she said. “Do you think something is terribly wrong with me?”
“I will not know that until I have answers to my questions,” Pliny said. “My questions will be uncomfortable.”
Elle’s eyes widened, and she looked to Curtis, who took her hand and nodded patiently. “If it will help you, let him ask,” he said softly.
