The Whisperer by Fiona McIntosh

Author:Fiona McIntosh [Fiona McIntosh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780730443438
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers

19

The old woman introduced as Nanny had arrived to daub his bruises with a harsh-smelling balm, and then proceeded to wordlessly but expertly bind his ribs tightly with lengths of linen. Lute was fascinated at the way she sucked her toothless gums during the entire procedure.

‘Thank you,’ he said to her as she prepared to leave but Nanny remained silent.

Her bandages didn’t take the pain away completely but they lessened the discomfort when he moved.

The dwarf opened a small chest that he kept on the crudely fashioned mantelpiece and from it withdrew a small vial full of liquid. ‘Sip this,’ he said, handing Lute the tiny narrow glass bottle. ‘A few drops, that’s all,’ he warned.

Lute had done so and miraculously the pain dissipated to the point where it no longer troubled him, other than a soft reminding ache. He could handle that and in the meantime a huge bowl of a darkly delicious stew had been placed in front of him and he could smell the fragrant spices and herbs that had gone into the dish. A hunk of bread was provided, thickly smeared with bright yellow butter.

‘That’s watered cider in that cup,’ Bitter Olof added, as Nanny silently left. ‘Get some down you.’

Lute did as he was told, swallowing half the glass of the cool, sweetened liquid. He noticed a small pot of purple-coloured granules by his glass. His expression must have formed a question because Bitter Olof explained, ‘They’re vaygo seeds. You chew them.’

‘Why?’

‘They’ll deaden the pain for you, boy.’

‘But the liquid—’ he began.

The dwarf reached for the vial. ‘That’s very potent stuff. I can’t have you taking too much of it. These are less speedy in their relief, I’ll grant you, but safer and effective enough.’

Lute stared at them and then back at the dwarf.

‘Go ahead, don’t you trust me?’

‘Does Pilo?’ Lute asked, but he was not referring to the seeds.

‘Why do you ask that?’

‘Well, he’s why I’m here, isn’t he? If I hadn’t mentioned his name I suspect Little Thom would have left me by the side of the road.’

‘Perhaps.’

‘So Pilo’s name was a password of sorts.’

‘Pilo and I go back a long way, lad.’

‘Are you friends?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘What then?’

‘We have an understanding.’

‘That doesn’t sound terribly friendly.’

‘It isn’t.’

‘Are you going to hurt me?’

‘Have I so far?’

Lute shook his head. ‘You’ve been most gracious,’ he admitted.

‘Then eat my stew, drink my cider and later chew the seeds and get some relief from your injured rib. It will hurt even more in a few hours.’

Lute put the seeds into his pocket.

‘They should last you. Chew them twenty-five times at least and then spit out the husk. We’ll practise after you’ve eaten.’ Lute nodded. ‘So talk to me about Pilo. Where is he?’

‘First you must tell me who you are to him.’

‘So you don’t trust me?’

‘Bitter Olof, I have to tell you that over the past day I’ve come to realise I can’t trust anyone, least of all someone who seems to have offered me kind hospitality but in truth has abducted me.

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