56.Apothecary

I left the dormitory and crossed the stairwell landing to the officers’ hall.

I knocked on my bedroom door but there was no answer.

I opened the door and confirmed the room was empty, noticing the chair from the desk was missing.

I thought I heard voices from behind Thatcher’s door.

I knocked on the door and the voices fell quiet.

“Who is it?”

called Thatcher.

I cringed.

I was in an awkward position having to ask Alric for coin.

I did not want the secondary discomfort of having to ask his friends for his whereabouts.

“It is Edie.”

The door swung open to reveal my husband, a tin cup in one hand.

Behind him, in a room similar to ours but without windows, at a desk pulled to the center of the room, sat Thatcher, Perch, Anwyn and Arbis.

Each of them also had a tin cup.

A deck of fortuneteller’s cards had been dealt to each man and a collection of copper coins sat in the center of the desk.

I noted that one of the chairs was likely our chair.

At first I thought them reading their fortunes to each other, but remembered that the deck could be used to play a gambling game called straw man’s revenge.

“Good evening, sister,”

Anwyn called, holding up his cup.

“Edith?”

Alric asked when I did not say anything.

Before I could open my mouth, Arbis said “How goes it, my brother’s bride?”

“Come play some straw man with us,”

Anwyn invited.

Perch and Thatcher were watching Alric watching me.

I gathered myself.

“Please forgive my interruption,”

I said, directing this at the four other men, but to my husband, I said, “May I speak with you in the hall?”

“You can kiss him in front of us,”

Arbis wheedled.

“Don’t tease her,”

Anwyn chided.

“She has enough to put up with, married to him.”

Alric’s nostrils flared and his ears reddened.

He nodded at me and closed the door behind him, stepping into the hallway, following my backwards steps.

“I am sorry,” I began.

He frowned.

“Do not apologize.

What do you need?”

I swallowed, wishing I could better know his disposition.

“You know that River has seizures?”

He inclined his head and blinked.

“We have been, the seven of us, pooling our coin for medicine, Tallowgill, to reduce their frequency and severity. And—”

here I paused, deciding to gloss over River having lost the Tallowgill, “she has run out of it.

And we do not get paid for another week.”

His eyes were on me, eyebrows drawn.

I continued, shame in my tone.

I looked at the V-shaped neckline of his tunic instead of at his face.

“May I borrow two silvers from you? I will pay you back.

It will take me some time, but I will.

We do not have enough for another jar.

I myself foolishly bought something I didn’t need with what I had left.”

I shut my eyes, feeling my cheeks heat.

“I am so sorry to ask—”

“We will go now,”

he said, reaching for the handle of Thatcher’s door and opening it.

He stepped inside and took some of the copper coins from the center of the desk.

“What the hell?”

Arbis asked.

“I’m not starting over! I have a good hand.”

Anwyn, Thatcher and Perch looked from Alric to me, standing in the hallway.

“You’re starting over,”

Alric said, pocketing the coins with one hand and finishing his cup’s whiskey with the other.

He set the tin cup on the table and put that hand on the chair and picked it up off the floor.

He walked through the doorway, closing the door behind him.

He walked past me and opened our room’s door, striding inside.

I followed him, watching him replace the chair at the desk and then open his wooden chest.

He fished out a small leather bag and tied it to his belt.

He looked at me, “Apothecary by the fountain?”

“Yes, but it will be open so late?”

“We will make them open,”

he responded, walking past me back into the hall.

Then he turned to me, eyes on my summer dress.

“Have you a shawl? It is hot out but there is a night breeze now.”

I went back inside to gather the dark green shawl I had been taking with me to read at the turret’s top landing.

I returned to him in the hall, tying it about my shoulders.

As we walked down the stairwell to the first level and entered a corridor that led to the plateau where the livery was, he explained, “Maggie will get us there faster.”

I did not know how to reply.

I could not tell if he wanted to be quick so he could return to his card game, if he was irritated by me or was simply behaving in his usual way.

“A night ride, captain?”

a boy of fifteen or so said, coming up next to us in the hallway.

He wore the Tintarian black cotton of keep staff.

“Yes.

Please run ahead and saddle my mare for me,”

Alric answered.

“I thank you.”

The boy took off at a fast clip.

“I am sorry,”

I repeated as we walked.

“I know you have already spent so much on us.”

He did not reply, but afforded me a quick look.

Again I wished I knew what he thought.

Maggie awaited us, bridled and saddled outside the stables.

Alric held out his hand and helped me up into the saddle.

Once I was seated, he swung up behind me and reaching his arms around my waist, took the reins from the stable boy.

He made a clicking with his teeth and tongue and Maggie took off down the incline leading into Pikestully, the sun’s lowness casting every building in shadows.

I spared a thought for our reversal in the saddle from that one day in Nyossa, he in front and I behind.

Now, I was cradled entirely by his body around me, his front up against my shoulders, his thighs behind mine, his forearms passing my waist to hold the reins.

I gripped the saddle with one hand and my shawl with the other.

“We are not bereft, Edith,”

he said, mouth close to my ear.

I did not reply at first, but then said, “But you had to spend so much on us.”

He sighed and his breath tickled my ear.

“I may have to work another winter or so before I feel I can retire, but that is my own carefulness.

That I do not mind as I am used to soldiering.

I have coin because I never spend it.”

Was that chastisement at my own spending? “I should not have bought lavender oil,”

I offered lamely, humiliated at my choice after my conversation with Isabeau.

He said nothing and we made our way into the city, passing homes and businesses.

He pulled Maggie up to the public hitching post in the square next to the fountain with the statue of The Farthest Four.

Light from a tavern nearby lit up the four stone figures.

Dismounted, he held up a hand to guide me down.

We walked up to the front door of the apothecary and he knocked.

There was no answer and he knocked again.

“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— We can 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.”