evidently possesses his concubines so often that they are unable to divert his
favours away from the one who – by sorceress’s wisdom – is most likely in the
time of pregnancy capability.
And so – a miscarriage was needed. A herb to bring it on.
Suppressing excitement, the dream almost forgotten in his state of
overstimulation, the healer located all three herbs, in turn. The stypia came
from a flowering plant that spread itself over one entire end of his big, bright
room. Someone would be using it soon for a persistent headache. The gernay was a
mixture of two roots, a flower, and a leaf, all ground together, to be made into
a tea with boiling water, steeped, and drunk throughout the day. It was for
constipation.
While he worked swiftly, deftly, putting each separately into a small pouch,
Stulwig pictured Illyra leaving her little stall. At the opportune moment she
had pushed aside the black curtains that blocked her away from the sight of
curious passersby. His mental image was of a one-room dwelling place in a dreary
part of the Maze. Coming out of that flimsy shelter at this hour of the morning
was not the wisest act even for a seeress. But, of course, she would have some
knowing to guide her. So that she could dart from one concealment to another at
exactly the right moments, avoiding danger. And then, naturally, once she got to
the narrow stairway leading up to his roof abode, there would be only the need
to verify that no one was lurking on the staircase itself.
He brought the three bags back to the hallway, and placed two of them into her