The Spine of the World - By R. A. Salvatore Page 0,66

her every movement with his eyes and hands. She savored the moment and vowed that after she was lady of the castle she would spend many such moments out in this garden alone.

But she was not alone. She spun around to find Priscilla watching her.

"It is my garden, after all," the woman said coldly, moving to water a row of bright blue bachelor buttons.

"So Steward Temigast telled me," Meralda replied.

Priscilla didn't respond, didn't even look up from her watering.

"It surprised me to learn of it," Meralda went on, her eyes narrowing. "It's so beautiful, after all."

That brought Priscilla's eyes up in a flash. The woman was very aware of insults. Scowling mightily, she strode toward Meralda. For a moment the younger woman thought Priscilla might try to strike her, or douse her, perhaps, with the bucket of water.

"My, aren't you the pretty one?" Priscilla remarked. "And only a pretty one like you could make so beautiful a garden, of course."

"Pretty inside," Meralda replied, not backing down an inch. She recognized that her posture had, indeed, caught the imposing Priscilla off guard. "And yes, I'm knowing enough about flowers to understand that the way you talk to them and the way you're touching them is what makes them grow. Begging your pardon, Lady Priscilla, but you're not for showing me any side of yourself that's favoring to flowers."

"Begging my pardon?" Priscilla echoed. She stood straight, her eyes wide, stunned by the peasant woman's bluntness. She stammered over a couple of replies before Meralda cut her off.

"By my own eyes, it's the most beautiful garden in all of Auckney," she said, breaking eye contact with Priscilla to take in the view of the flowers, emphasizing her words with a wondrous look of approval. "I thought you hateful and all."

She turned back to face the woman directly, but Meralda was not scowling. Priscilla's frown, too, had somewhat abated. "Now I'm knowing better, for anyone who could make a garden so delightful is hiding delights of her own." She ended with a disarming grin that even Priscilla could not easily dismiss.

"I have been working on this garden for years," the older woman explained. "Planting and tending, finding flowers to come to color every week of every summer."

"And the work's showing," Meralda sincerely congratulated her. "I'll wager there's not a garden to match it in Luskan or even Waterdeep."

Meralda couldn't suppress a bit of a smile to see Priscilla blushing. She'd found the woman's weak spot.

"It is a pretty garden," the woman said, "but Waterdeep has gardens the size of Castle Auck."

"Bigger then, but sure to be no more beautiful," the unrelenting Meralda remarked.

Priscilla stammered again, so obviously off guard from the unexpected flattery from this peasant girl. "Thank you," she managed to blurt out, and her chubby face lit up with as wide a smile as Meralda could ever have imagined. "Would you like to see something special?"

Meralda was at first wary, for she certainly had a hard time trusting Priscilla, but she decided to take a chance. Priscilla grabbed her by the hand and tugged her back into the castle, through a couple of small rooms, down a hidden stairway, and to a small open-air courtyard that seemed more like a hole in the castle design, an empty space barely wide enough for the two of them to stand side by side. Meralda laughed aloud at the sight, for while the walls were naught but cracked and weathered gray stone, there, in the middle of the courtyard, stood a row of poppies, most the usual deep red, but several a delicate pink variety that Meralda didn't recognize.

"I work with the plants in here," Priscilla explained, guiding Meralda to the pots. She knelt before the red poppies first, stroking the stem with one hand while pushing down the petals to reveal the dark core of the flower with the other. "See how rough the stem is?" she asked. Meralda nodded as she reached out to touch the solid plant.

Priscilla abruptly stood and guided Meralda to the other pots containing lighter colored poppies. Again she revealed the core of the flower, this time showing it to be white, not dark. When Meralda touched the stem of this plant she found it to be much more delicate.

"For years I have been using lighter and lighter plants," Priscilla explained. "Until I achieved this, a poppy so very different from its original stock."

"Priscilla poppies!" Meralda exclaimed. She was delighted to see surly Priscilla Auck actually break into a