David Gemmell – Rigante 3 – Ravenheart

Ramus cast a quick, nervous glance at the black-haired youth standing at his counter. He felt uneasy around Kaelin Ring, though in truth he could not think why. ‘Fever, you say? What is the nature of the fever, Master Ring?’ He listened intently as the young man told him of finding Shula Achbain and her son on the verge of death from starvation and cold.

‘Aunt Maev said to ask you to select herbs to heal them. She told me to ask also for fat hen and something for a festering wound.’

‘Good, yes, very good,’ said Ramus. ‘Please take a seat, Master Ring, while I prepare the necessary ingredients.’ Ramus was anxious to please Maev Ring. She had become a powerful personality in Old Hills, and, truth be told, in Eldacre itself. More than sixty women were now employed by her in the making of dresses, shirts, blouses, and other articles of clothing. It was said that she was a shareholder in three other ventures, though Ramus knew of only two. Maev Ring now had minority interests in the businesses of Gillam Pearce the bootmaker and Parsis Feld, owner of the forge and armoury in Eldacre town. Both men had been in danger of bankruptcy and debtor’s prison, but Maev Ring had settled their debts. As soon as she acquired her stake in the businesses their fortunes changed. Orders came in and prosperity followed. Other merchants talked of Maev Ring’s being lucky. It was easy to see why they would think that, but Ramus was not fooled. Once might be luck, not twice. No. Maev Ring was a clever woman, with a sharp eye for opportunity.

The apothecary stood for a moment surveying the scores of earthenware jars upon his shelves. Each jar was marked with a symbol, or a series of letters. The first he chose bore the legend DHS in black. Uncorking the jar he scooped out a portion of the contents, then, with his left hand, opened a small bag of muslin, into which he tipped the powder.

‘What is that?’ asked Kaelin Ring. Ramus jerked. He had not heard the young man leave his seat and move once more to the counter. It unnerved him a little. Had it been anyone else he would have asked them, politely, to return to their seat. But this boy was the nephew of Maev Ring, and therefore to be treated with a little more respect.

‘It is the leaf of the dwarf honey suckle,’ said Ramus. ‘I shall give you four half-ounce bags. The powders must be boiled with sugar to make a jelly. It will help dispel the fever. For the festering wound I shall make up a potion with honey wort and saffron. Your aunt will know what to do with it. You may expect some immoderate movements of the bowels in the early stages of their recovery. To alleviate this I recommend myrtle berry extract. This is, however, expensive. It is six daens a bottle and you will need two bottles.’

‘A whole chailling?’ said Kaelin Ring, astonished.

‘Aye, Master Ring. The myrtle tree does not grow in the highlands. Indeed no-one has successfully grown it on this side of the sea. The extract needs to be shipped from Goriasa, and then brought overland. It is, however, as effective as it is costly.’

‘I’ll take the one bottle,’ said Kaelin. ‘But I’ll have to owe you.’

‘Not a problem, Master Ring. I trust you implicitly.’ Ramus carefully gathered all the herbs and powders, then took up a swan feather quill and dipped it into a small pot of ink. In immaculate copperplate script he wrote out details of the purchase, and the sums required, sanded the finished receipt, and, when he was sure the ink had dried, folded the paper and handed it to Kaelin. The young man pocketed it, then heaved a large canvas shoulder bag to the worktop. It was already half full. Ramus opened the flap at the top and packed his powders and potions among the contents. The bottle of myrtle extract he placed within a wooden box half filled with straw. ‘Be careful with this, Master Ring.’

‘I will, sir.’

A commotion began outside and they could hear voices being raised. The outside door was thrust open and a young man pushed inside. He was red-faced, his eyes wide with excitement. ‘There’s been an attempt on the Moidart’s life,’ he said. ‘Assassins broke into his home last night. There are soldiers all over Eldacre, and there have been many arrests.’