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“Imported? Do you mean traded?”
“Yes, I suppose I do.”
She went and ladled out some water into her cup and some into his. Elena handed him the cup carefully, ensuring he had it confidently. He thanked her as he took a sip.
“It is not unpleasant but not the strong flavor I am used to.”
“It has not had time to steep, but if the flavor were stronger, would that not make it bitter?”
“It can be if left too long. They call the tea by the place it is picked, like Ceylon or Darjeeling, but this is more than sufficient. What’s in it?”
“Chamomile, dried ginger, and some lavender. It relaxes me. My father liked coffee and yerba maté tea, but it is too strong for me. You would most likely enjoy the yerba.”
He had never heard of it. “When are you going upstairs?” he asked over the rim of his cup.
“Soon. Do not worry, I will look for traps.”
He chuckled. “Do you even know what you are looking for when it comes to traps?”
She looked away, searching the horizon. “What should I look for?”
“Trip wires mostly. Something that looks enticing may contain rat poison or another type of poison. Basically, don’t touch anything. And watch where you are going.”
“They may have left food or wine.”
“If they had any suspicion we were close…just…don’t touch anything.”
She studied his face for a few moments before nodding. She sipped her tea, and he sipped his, both content in silence.
When she put her cup on the makeshift table, she noticed the small barrel. “How did this get here?”
He smiled, happy she noticed his effort. “I carried it up. I noticed the big barrel was getting low.”
Her eyes grew huge. “You carried it?”
“Well, I didn’t balance it on my nose. Of course I carried it.”
“With your broken arm!” She spun away, muttering curses in quick succession. “Stupido English. You have probably undone all the healing in that arm. What were you thinking?”
“I was trying to be helpful.”
“Helpful? Helpful!!” She charged back into the room, still cursing him. “You cannot carry a barrel with one arm only.”
He sat in shocked silence while she paced around the room, stopping only to put her shoes on and braid her hair quickly.
“Why are you so angry?” he asked, his expression confused. “My arm is fine I assure you.”
His assurances obviously meant nothing to her as Elena charged out of the room and stomped down the stairs.
“Hey!” he yelled.
Elena stopped at the bottom step and turned towards him, eyes blazing with anger. “I know, don’t touch anything. I have an instruction for you too. Don’t carry anything. Idiota.”
“Point taken,” he said as she disappeared around the corner. It was not as though carrying the barrel had been deadly, not like his instruction, but she knew more about broken limbs than he did, and if his arm never healed correctly, he could not blame her.
She would never know how hard it was for him not to follow her.
Chapter Five
