Sixteen
“Okay, you have to grind these herbs together and add oil to the mixture to create the salve,” Ayla said, pointing to the various herbs spread out across the worktable. “This is nightingale. It’s a particular herb that, when used properly, can help with those inflicted by muscle spasm although too much of it in its herb form can be poisonous.”
I ground the herbs while sweat dripped from my forehead. “If used improperly, it can cause the body to shut down?”
She nodded. “Precisely. See, you’re getting this!” Ayla clapped her hands together, her smile brightening the gloomy day.
I wiped the sweat from my brow. “Most poisons have an antidote...” I tried to remember from our lessons and the books I had read the possible ingredients that can reverse the poisonous process.
“Most do but not nightingale. You are better off giving them lobelia or any herb with particulars to induce them to vomit it up and pray the end comes swiftly.”
I placed the mixture into jars laid out across the table, careful not to overfill them one by one. “Lobelia.”
The market was a first for me to assist Ayla in selling her tinctures and remedies. Finishing the last of the batches, we placed the items into a large knapsack and set out of the cottage.
Winter had set in, the first snowfall happening less than a few weeks ago. The chill in the air had deepened into the greenery, frosting tips of evergreens with the soft crunch of snow underfoot. I shut the coat tight against my body, placing the sack high on top of my shoulders as we walked the cobblestone path to the center of town.
The coat was another gift from Ebony, who I suspected was guilty about the other day. Most of the ghosts left me alone after the incident, but to say that it did not spook me in the slightest would be a lie. Ebony kept her distance but left trinkets and gifts in her place. Besides Ayla, she had been the closest thing to a confidant in the castle.
Silas had been even more of a recluse since the day he barged into my room. Keeping to the west wing,he stopped coming to supper despite it being his one crucial rule. It’d been an unspoken agreement those last few nights as he swept his glass of wine off the table, giving a small nod before departing. The man was a dark storm of untold destruction in my life. Swiftly there, with little warning, only to disappear and leave disaster in his wake.
Instead of fretting over his mood swings, I had been putting that time into learning the art of healing with Ayla.
Those had been the harder ones to attend since the house visit with the woman. Most of those poor folks had evidence of blood loss that tied Silas to the crime more so than I’d like to admit. I never said anything to Ayla about my time in the castle. She taught me skills that had greatly helped others, but there was a missing piece to me that strained against my chest.
The market was packed, and booths lined the small squares as sellers attracted potential customers. Baked goods, materials made of leather ranging from bags to belts, and other trinkets had been perched on tablecloths. A warm bonfire was lit nearby, bathing the square in a glow and warmth with lights twinkling overhead. Loud laughter of children rang out, who were running through the market as several shoppers haggled. The customers rebuked their offer, going back and forth until they pressed gold coins into the palms of the vendors once deals had been struck.
The glory of the cosmic exchange.
Ayla guided us to our booth, smaller than the rest, which was alright, seeing as we did not offer anextended variety of goods. Setting out the worn jars of herbs and signs she had crafted, we sat up shop on this winter morning. Taking out a lighter stick, she lit the end from the bonfire nearby and stoked a pile of herbs. The scent of vanilla and cloves filled the small space, inviting and warm to the chilled air.
“This should help attract customers. Now some may haggle, but the final offer should never be less than a single gold piece. Although if someone looks as if they need the help, we will reevaluate the pricing. Oftentimes, folks come to need the help but do not have the money to do so, while others prey on the good will of others.”
Ayla straightened the cloth, then fanned the smoke higher, creating a dizzy overwhelming smell of the incense. Blue eyes twinkled in sincerity, taking care of her display as she prepared for the flood of customers that beckon to the booth.
As soon as we opened for the rush, there was not a singular moment of rest. One after another, they bought the tinctures and mixtures we had labored for days. Gone in mere moments. True to Ayla’s word, there were a few who tried to haggle lower than a single gold piece, fighting the fact that it was expensive for this kind of work.
“This is women’s work. Why should it be compensated any higher than Darwin’s apothecary down the streets?” an old man grumbled, pulling out the singular gold coin and placing it up on the counter.
Ayla took the coin, replaced it with a bottle of healing salve, and gave the man a polite smile.
The man grunted away, shoving the jar into his shabby gray coat, only to glare at me, eyebrow lifted in suspicion. “Haven’t seen you around here before.”
“I moved here recently,” I said.
“The castle, eh?”
“No, sir.”
The man squinted, his wrinkled face scrunching as his gaze raked my insides. “Liar.”
I winced, rubbing my hands against the fabric of my dress.
I was not ready for folks to know I was staying under the roof of their enemy and not doing anything about it. I opened my mouth and closed it. I had no idea what to say to this man.
“Sounds as if you got something to say. Perhaps you are the monster that lives on top of that bloody hill,” he hissed.
“She is a distant cousin of mine who is staying with me. Now run along, Walter. I have other customers to attend to,” Ayla said.
