look too shocked or too confused.
“Ye want tae make them…ill?” he asked.
Magnus nodded. “For a day or two,” he said. “As a joke, ye see. They saddled me with a… Well, it doesna matter. I need tae punish them but not hurt them. I want everything they’ve eaten tae come out from the top and the bottom. What can ye sell me that will do that but not harm them?”
“Ye want a cleanse?”
“If that will expel everything from their innards, I do.”
The old man with the yellow beard was beginning to understand. He didn’t seem confused any longer, but rather disapproving of what he was being asked for and the purpose for which it would be used. However, given that he’d seen this man before, once in the company of the owner of the Ludus Caledonia and a few other times on his own, the apothecary didn’t press him further. He wanted to get through this without any trouble from the muscular warrior, so he turned back to his shelves of glass phials.
Each little bottle held something different, mysterious or expensive ingredients. There had to be hundreds of the phials lining the shelves of the shop. Most contained what was called “simple” ingredients, meaning that each was only one element. But others had multiple ingredients, or “compounds,” which were mixed for a specific purpose.
The old man went to a particular area of the shop, peering up toward the top shelf, lined with dusty glass bottles. Pulling forth a small ladder, he climbed the rickety rungs and plucked one of the bottles from the top shelf. With the glass carefully cradled in one hand, he returned to Magnus.
The phial was filled with silver pellets. Removing the stopper, he plucked one of the pellets and held it up to Magnus.
“Steep this in wine a few hours,” he said. “Have yer…friends drink the wine without the pellet in it. It will have the desired effect without injuring them.”
Magnus took the silver bit out of his hand, holding it up to the dim light of the shop to get a better look at it.
“What is it?” he asked.
The old man was already turning away from him, returning the bottle to its proper place.
“It is called tartar emetic,” he said. “It is used tae purge foul humors. Careful ye dunna give yer friends too much or it will kill them.”
Magnus didn’t want to do that. He just wanted to get back at them for the old-whore trick.
“I let it soak just a few hours?” he clarified.
“Just a few and no longer.”
“And it willna kill them?”
“If ye use it properly, it shouldna.”
That was good enough for Magnus. He inspected the silver pellet a moment longer before tucking it into his purse and pulling forth two silver coins. Handing those over to the appreciative apothecary, he was just turning for the door when a group of women blew in.
Magnus couldn’t see them very well because of the bright sunlight coming in through the doorway behind them, but he could see their shapes. He could smell the perfume. As they came deeper into the shop, he realized that he recognized the woman in the lead.
A bolt of shock ran through him.
The woman was well dressed and elegant, and Magnus knew her well, but she reminded him of a time in his life he’d rather forget. For a moment, he wasn’t sure what to do, and his moment of indecision cost him, for the woman locked gazes with him and she, too, registered great surprise.
“Magnus?” she gasped. “Magnus, is that you?”
Magnus nodded, realizing that he could not run now. He took a deep breath to steady himself as his heart began to pound.
“Aye,” he said. “Greetings, Lady Ayr.”
The woman shuffled over to him in a flurry of fine fabric and strong perfume, her expression filled with delight.
“Oh, it is you,” she said in her clipped English accent. “What a magnificent stroke of luck to find you here, Magnus. I’ve not seen you in years.”
That was very true. Not since he’d had been her husband’s hostage. He’d spent most of his life in captivity before being released, cast off into the world to fend for himself. Those were the years that Magnus tried to pretend never happened, but seeing Agnes Stewart, Duchess of Ayr, brought back that which he hadn’t thought of in quite some time.
Seeing her face brought back the old, familiar hatred.
“It has been many years, m’lady,” he said, feeling uncomfortable. “If ye will excuse me, I’ve business