“Maybe they do not live on the premises,” I suggested.
“They do. This is where we bought tonics for my mother when she was ill,” he said.
I had so many questions but I kept my mouth shut.
A harried man came to the door, irritation on his lips that died when he saw my husband. Alric thanked him and apologized, but said we needed medicine. The man waved us inside, a candle in his hand lighting the large, many-shelved room.
“We will take all of the Tallowgill that you have,” said Alric. Then he said, “All but a jar, should someone else need it. But send word to the keep when you have more.”
The man produced a wooden crate and stuffed it with straw and eight jars of the Tallowgill. I winced at his naming the price of sixteen silver coins, but Alric set the coin pouch on the counter, saying, “And all of the lavender oil that you have. For my wife. All of it.”
The man left to gather it.
“Alric,” I breathed. “You do not have to—”
“Whenever, she runs out of the powder,” he said, interrupting, “let me know.”
I breathed in and out, my throat congested with emotion. “Alright. I thank you. I cannot—” I stopped myself from crying, realizing my courses must be nigh. “I cannot thank you enough.”
He was serious. “You should have told me. You always try to fix everything by yourself.”
I could not speak without crying, so I did not try.
Rubbing at his nightly stubble, so full of the gray like his temples, he exhaled through his nose. “I can afford—Wecan afford to help your friend. And you should know that you will be provided for after I stop collecting a salary. I can buy us a small house—” he stopped himself as the man returned with a small wooden box he said contained the vials of lavender oil.
“Can you carry the boxes on Maggie?” my husband asked, picking up the crate.
I nodded, picking up the lavender and we walked outside.
He helped me mount her and then handed me the crate.
I had tied my shawl tightly so as to cover my shoulders and not come undone and I wrapped my arms around both containers. I noticed Alric’s forearms were tighter around me as if to hold me steady.
He nudged Maggie and we made our way back to the keep.
“What I meant was,” he said after a time, “I can afford to keep us in our old age. You can also live at the keep in service of Mother Earth as late into your life as you wish.”
“Thank you,” I said again, weakly.
“I have tried to think before speaking,” he responded. “You must now try not to solve every quandary by yourself. You should ask for things when you need them.”
“I don’t want to be a burden,” I whispered.
“You are not a burden. You are my wife.”
I opened my mouth to reply that I was not a chosen wife, but I was tired and he was, in his own stunted manner, being generous. So I said, “Again, I thank you.”
57. Madness
Once at the keep, he carried both boxes to the second level on our stairwell and then handed the crate to me, taking the small lavender from the top. “I will return this to the room. You can take the powder to your friends.”
“I hope you have time still for your card game,” I said.
He looked at me over his shoulder, having turned away with the box. “I am no dedicated gambler. I am glad you came to me. Please ask again if you need me.” And then he walked into our room.
I walked down to the second level dormitory and delivered the crate to a weepy River, sitting up in her bed next to a distressed Quinn, who had been leaning against the wall, seated next to her. “I found it as soon as you left,” she said, her large eyes wet. “I am so embarrassed.”
“Do not be!” I assured her. “Now you have as much as you can. And when you run out of this, we can get more. Alric said he would pay. He told the apothecary to notify him when there was restocking of it.”
