Page 24 of Highland Slayer
“M’laird,” she said with pleasure. “Do ye know what ye want?”
The woman was standing a little too close to him and had the unsettling odor of burnt meat about her. More than that, her friendly slap on his left arm had bloody well hurt.
“Aye,” he said, taking a step back. “I am seeking medicaments for a fever. What would ye recommend?”
“A few things, m’laird,” the woman said loudly, taking a step toward him as he took another step back. “Is this for yer bairn?”
“Nay. A knight.”
“English?”
“Aye.”
She leaned forward with a twinkle in her eye. “Are ye sure ye simply dunna want tae let the fever run him down?”
She started laughing, and that appalling smell of burnt meat began to envelop him. But it was more than just the burnt smell.Garlic,he thought. He’d smelled it before.
The woman reeked of garlic.
“He’s my kin, so I need something tae help him,” he said, growing annoyed. “We also have a sick woman that needs tending.”
“Kin, too?”
“A stranger,” he said, his patience at an end. “Do ye have something or not?”
The woman was still laughing, oblivious to his annoyance with her. Even if she wasn’t, she didn’t seem to care. Before she could say another word, however, Anaxandra was suddenly between them, her pale eyes blazing.
“He’s not come to converse with you or give you a handsome vision to look upon,” she barked. “We need parsley, mustard seed, and any concoction you have that might take down a fever. We will also need a willow bark potion or powdered willow bark for the same purpose.Move!”
She boomed the last word, and the older woman stumbled back, looking at her in both shock and outrage.
“Who are ye, coming around and shouting like that?” she said angrily. “I’ll give ye nothing at all if ye do that again!”
The lack of Anaxandra’s social skills were on full display as she unslung the crossbow and pointed it right at the apothecary. “I am from St. Margaret’s,” she said. “I’ll do anything I please to get what I need. If you do not produce those items, I’ll simply take them, so it is your choice. Get them or die.”
“’Tis not that bad, love,” Estevan said soothingly, putting his hand on Anaxandra’s shoulder and pulling her back. He had been so stunned at her aggressiveness that it had taken a moment for him to react. When she looked at him, rage in her expression, he simply smiled at her and forced her to lower the crossbow. “She’ll get them for us. Ye needn’t worry. I know of yer concern for the ill, but the woman meant no harm.”
He was trying to convey to the apothecary that Anaxandra acted as she had because she was very concerned for those who were with fever. He hoped it would work, because the apothecary was a big woman, and loud, and he didn’t want to create a ruckus. He simply wanted what he’d come for. His focus remained on Anaxandra as she finally began to lower the crossbow.
The apothecary also had her attention on Anaxandra, evidently in surprise, as she realized who the young woman was. Leggy and blonde and wearing clothing that suggested battle, she looked like a Valkyrie.
“Ye’re a Lady Templar?” the apothecary said. Then she grinned. “I’ve only seen yer lot once or twice, and I’ve lived here my entire life. Imagine—a Lady Templar in my stall!”
Anaxandra had no reply, but Estevan could see that she was tensing up for another round of shouting. “They keep tae themselves,” he said, continuing his efforts to defuse the situation. “Most religious orders do. Can ye provide me with the things for a fever? Mustard seed and willow bark, if ye have it. Our friend is quite ill.”
The woman was still grinning as she turned around and began rummaging through baskets on one of her tables. Estevan was torn between watching her curiously and making sure Anaxandra didn’t try to kill the woman because she wasn’t moving fast enough. He ended up holding the hand that was holding the crossbow, reasoning that she couldn’t raise it if he had hold of her.
Hopefully.
He knew from experience how good she was with that crossbow.
Oblivious to Estevan’s efforts to prevent a bloodbath, the apothecary continued to rummage through baskets beforefinding what she was looking for. She held up a bunch of something green, waving it around.
“Onion,” she said. “If yer knight has a fever and sickness in his chest, ye’ll want tae boil the onion until it’s very soft and then strain the water. Add honey and have him drink it.”
Before Estevan could reply, she returned to what she was doing, talking to herself as she went about finding what they needed. Since she was doing what had been asked of her, Estevan finally felt safe enough to take his hand off the crossbow.
“Return tae the door,” he told her quietly.
