PLANTER11
Isurveyed the purchases arranged on the laundry table. It was barely morning. A faint breeze swirled through the courtyard, bringing with it a hint of the ocean. The sky glowed with gentle blue, veiled here and there with pink-tinted clouds. Kair Toren had pulled out all the stops for this sunrise.
Yesterday when we came back from the docks, Reynald talked to Gort for a while. Our precious salt was delivered by cart and installed in a secure spot with a strict warning to not touch the seal. Reynald spoke to Kaiden at length about it. When Clover found out how much we had paid for it, she turned slightly green and went to recalculate the budget.
In the evening Gort had left. He came back late, completely plastered, and announced that Will had a job on the Yolentas’ dock crew. Apparently, the Yolentas often hired veterans for their loading and unloading, reasoning that people who knew how to handle themselves would be good at protecting cargo. Gort had served with one of the supervisors and whatever sob story he told the man over the ale mugs and a plate of greasy tavern food had worked. This morning Will had departed before dawn.
We wouldn’t know anything until he came back, and I needed to use this time to get our legitimate business up and running. I had no illusions—this was the calm before the storm, but I could either wait and marinate in my anxiety or work. I chose work.
I claimed the section of the courtyard with an open firepit, where Clover had previously boiled laundry in the huge pot. I’d made a small fire, hung one of our spare cauldrons over it, and dragged a scale and a set of weights I found in Derog’s office to the utility table sitting there. Then I got paper and one of the reed pens from my office and arranged our purchases, while Clover anxiously hovered nearby.
“I bought everything on your list,” Clover said.
I glanced at the gathering of barrels, jars, and vials. “I see that.”
“A short barrel of pan oil at fifteen dens,” Clover recited. “He wanted twenty for it, which would have been highway robbery.”
Pan oil came from Rellasian olives and served as the main oil in local cooking. It was also pricey. The short barrel contained about five gallons or so, and it had cost us a pretty penny even with Clover’s haggling skills.
“A short barrel of bulko oil at three dens.”
Bulko oil came from fat, green berries. It was inedible because of its off-putting taste, so it was produced for industrial uses—grease for wheels and axles, quench medium for armor and weapons, and first aid burn ointment. It was nontoxic, possessed decent antibacterial properties, and best of all, it was solid at room temperature and had the consistency and texture of coconut oil.
Clover eyed the cauldron. “You can’t cook with bulko oil, my lady.”
Again with themy lady. “Maggie.”
“Maggie. It tastes awful.”
“We won’t be cooking with it.”
Clover glanced at the cauldron and waited to see if I would say anything else. I didn’t, so she forged ahead.
“A large vial of maidenflower oil at three dens and two quarters. It was on sale, and I got her down another half den.”
The clear glass vial held about two cups of dense, bright purple liquid. I opened the cork and waved my hand above the rim, fanning the scent to me. It smelled of vanilla with a hint of rose and just a pinch of something else. Lilac, maybe? Maidenflower oil was used to add fragrance and color in baking. I knew this because in the books Shana made a dessert with it.
“Two large loaf pans at two dens and ten small pans at two quarters each.”
She would go through the whole list. There was no stopping her.
“One bucket with a wooden stirring spoon at one den.”
Right.
“A large crock of yogurt at one den . . .”
Yogurt would come in very handy.
“One sack of lye at two dens and a quarter.”
A decent-sized sack, too. Kair Toren had an abundance of salt-tolerant plants and lye was cheap.
“Two pairs of heavy work mittens, and two pairs of stonecutter spectacles at two dens each.”
Safety first.
Clover frowned at our collection of supplies. “What is it all for?”
