Chapter Thirty-one
From a completed epic fantasy novel told across two time periods.
Richard
“It’s a disorganized mess,” Richard said to his fellow herbalists. He was sitting with Rowland, his former student, and Frederick, a man who had been working in the royal herbalism laboratory for more than a decade.
The two men sat across from him at a table in the Shark Eye, a tavern by the docks. It was a stuffy and foul-smelling establishment. However, it was the last place Esther would look for them, and she had the habit of sending out lackeys to gather her herbalists outside of their supposed working hours. Frederick had suggested it, having had need for the escape over the course of his employment. Richard had been there on a few occasions with Woller. The older man had frequented the seedy establishment, which was strange considering the type of clientele on hand. But evidently, Woller had been full of mysteries. Perhaps his affinity for this establishment was yet another.
“You know,” Richard said to the other men, “I inquired as to the sudden change of direction of the program. She gave me some nonsense about it being the same goal, that the health of the soldiers was paramount. I’m not buying that for a minute. She’s hiding something.”
“Whatever she does, she does it for Oslian. That is the key to Esther,” Frederick said. “She would clean his chamber pot if he asked her to. Frankly, I would not be surprised if she already had.”
The man was not smiling. His dislike for the Royal Herbalist was shared by the other employees with the sole exception of Carlisle, who was never present when derogatory comments were made.
Richard just shook his head and looked over at Rowland who was waving a server over for another round. They had come here every night that week, it being their only escape, and ale amplified that sense of disassociation for which they longed.
Sighing, Richard looked around the tavern. It was past midnight and most of the tables were occupied. A young man and woman, the only two individuals in the establishment who looked more out of place than the herbalists, sat a few tables away from them. They wore identical green vests and brown trousers. A patch of some sort was stitched onto the breast of their vests. Richard hadn’t been paying them much mind other than a passing awareness of their obviously foreign garments and an amusement at the level of their intoxication, but a word that was spoken caught his attention just then. Herbalism.
Rowland and Frederick appeared inclined to continue drinking in silence, so Richard closed his eyes and concentrated on what was being said.
“It is a perversion of nature,” the woman said. “The manipulation of the human body shows how far how society has degraded.”
“And this is where it is worse. Here and now more than ever,” a man added.
Doing his best to hide his interest, Richard scratched at his forehead while looking over at the strangers. Sober enough to use his heightened vision, he focused and was able to make out the patch on their vests. It was a dark brown pentagon with a green seedling in the middle.
How curious.
“To permanently deform one’s anatomy… that level of depravity is unfathomable,” the woman snarled. “I do not even want to believe it.”
“Can you be surprised? This is where this was always headed. To sever man’s link to nature, and to use nature’s bounty as the means to that end. It is what our founder feared, all those years ago. Were that she was with us now.”
“To witness this?” The woman spat on the dirt floor. “To see that we have failed?”
“It is not over yet,” the man mumbled into his tankard as he lifted it to his lips.
Suddenly feeling unsafe, Richard excused himself to urinate, not that his companions cared whether he remained or left. As he walked through the room and went outside, he did his best to clear his head from the influence of alcohol.
They’re speaking of me. If they know of my tonic, what would prevent them from knowing my name, what I look like, or where I live?
Steadying himself against the outer wall as he relieved himself, Richard realized he may be in real danger. Those two foreigners were a deadly combination of intoxicated and fanatical. He had never considered the potential downside of receiving credit for his work. He had only looked at the positives, which he believed would be recognition among his peers and perhaps a bit of awe in the minds of the public. Those were the rewards his grandfather had earned and it seemed fitting that his discovery, which was only slightly less impactful, would deliver unto him a similar status. Instead, he had been forced to work beneath a woman he did not respect and the only people outside of the world of herbalism that knew of him were filled with animosity for his life’s work.
He retied his trousers and came to the decision that he could not stay in such close proximity to people who could very well wish to harm him.
Let Rowland and Frederick pick up the tab. They’ll likely drink so much they won’t remember I skipped out on them.
It was incredible what fear could do to sober a man. Richard advanced briskly down side streets until he felt he was far enough away from the Shark Eye to use the main roads with their passageways lit yellow by oil lamps. His life was becoming more complicated and more hazardous by the day. Would those two strangers come looking for him? Were there more of them in the city? They had spoken as if they belonged to an organization that was much larger than just two individuals. That patch with the seedling, what did it signify? He had too many questions racing through his head to reach any conclusions.
As he neared his house, he made certain he was not being followed, walking past his house and doubling back again, his eyes scanning the area for any movement. While he did not see a single person, there was something else that did catch his eye.
More of those signs.
These read, “Look to the sky for the proof of His divinity. The light will show you the way to The Path.”
They seemed to be found on every street now. And as quickly as they were torn down by city guards, even more took their place. Yet, what had come of it? As Richard knew, the prophecy declared that this would be the year a great light would cross the sky.
The Hero is running out of time. The year will end soon. I wonder what the devout will say when his precise prophecy turns out to be rubbish. They’ll conjure up some explanation of how they misinterpreted the writings, no doubt. Failure does not stop fanatics.
It was a strange time to be alive. A strange and now dangerous time for Richard.
The next day he arrived at work to find that he was the first person at the laboratory save the Royal Herbalist herself. “You’re not late, are you?” she asked him.
“No. I believe I’m early.”
“The sun is not up yet?”
“I suppose we could have a debate regarding that.”
“Come over here and help me with this,” she said, looking back down at what she had been doing when he arrived.
Feeling emboldened by the danger of the past night, Richard remained where he was standing. If his life was to be at risk due to his discovery, he should at least be respected by those who were benefitting from his work.
“Esther,” he began. “Your current project is based entirely upon the tonic which I created, yet you do not ask for my advice nor have you questioned the process I followed. I can come to no other conclusion than you are acting out of envy and that your ego was injured when you learned that someone created something you could not have invented yourself.”
Esther paused and looked over at Richard. “You are responsible for the permanent vision enhancing tonic?”
“Yes, of course I am!”
“You mean your department at the university created it.”
“No, I mean I created it. Other than manual labor, such as what you had me doing when I first arrived, no one else had any input in the development of the tonic. Don’t act as though you are ignorant of that.”
“I was told the tonic was developed by the university’s herbalism department. That is why we have you and the graduate students here. The other two professors were uncooperative and have… left the profession.”
The ambiguity of that statement is frightening.
“Ask anyone from the department and they will tell you it was my project.”
“It is that important to you that you receive credit for this?”
“Well, yes. How could it not be?”
“What matter are the results, not who was responsible. Herbalism is an ongoing process. Everyone adds on to what the last person created, and he or she did the same.”
“That may be…” Richard admitted.
“You are so like him,” Esther said, again looking back down at the materials on the table.
“Like who?”
“Enfildio.”
“Did you know him personally?”
“Ah, now it is my turn to be insulted. I did know him. That he never told you of me only proves my point. But that is enough about that. You have made advancements, and I will learn from you. At this moment however, I need your assistance.”
She knew my grandfather? Did she work for him? I know he had many assistants.
Richard acquiesced to Esther’s request and saw that she was deseeding a genizid flower. The seeds of the plant had been used in traditional healing for centuries, though Richard was unaware of any herbalism tonics which utilized them. Seeing Esther at the laboratory alone, doing such a menial task, made him consider what she had said earlier. Perhaps he had lost his temper.
They worked together in silence, deseeding more than twenty of the flowers. The old woman’s liver-spotted hands moved deftly, though she would pause every so often to stretch her fingers, then resume without comment.
Carlisle was the first to arrive, and Esther enlisted his services as well. By the time the task was complete, the rest of the staff had arrived and Richard was dismissed so that he could continue his originally scheduled work. His job for the week had been to collaborate with Frederick in collecting data on the acidity of different existing healing tonics. Frederick was slowly gathering materials when Richard approached him.
“Good morning,” he said, curious whether the man had any recollection of the night before.
“Morning, Richard. Another day in paradise, no?”
“How’s your head?” Richard asked.
“Hurts like usual. It’ll wear off by midday. It always does.”
“Thanks for picking up the tab for me,” Richard said. “I owe you.”
“Made the boy pay for it, so don’t mention it.”
Richard looked around the room then and lowered his voice. “Frederick, do you remember two people at the tavern last night who were wearing green vests with patches on the breast?”
“Is this the beginning of some sort of jest?” Frederick asked, looking up. “Did Rowland put you up to this? Finally realized he’s been paying for my drinks for the past week?”
“What about a loud conversation two people were having about herbalism? Do you recall hearing people denouncing the practice?”
“Ah. Now that I do remember. Of their attire, I have no idea, but I do remember hearing them go on and on about how herbalism is an abomination of nature.”
“Did they mention my name?”
Frederick raised an eyebrow. “Why? Do you know them?”
“No, nothing like that. But you’re sure they did not say my name?”
“I don’t want to say I’m sure, but I didn’t hear them say it.”
Oh, of course not. No one knows it was me. Perhaps Yara did me a favor. I’ll have to thank her the next time she comes to interrogate me.
“That is a relief.”
Frederick grunted. “The boy was interested in what they had to say though. Kept looking over at them. At least until I left the tavern and he had to pay for our drinks.”
“I should speak with him.”
“And leave me with all this work? You can speak to him on your break, assuming we get one today.”
“Fine. I’ll wait until then.”
“Can’t pull one over on me. I invented that game.”
At midday, Esther was called away to speak with the Divine King, giving Richard an opportunity to speak with Rowland while Carlisle was occupied picking up some of her work. They went behind a large shelf used to store knives and beakers, leaving them completely out of the line of sight of any other workers.
“What do you remember of the two people who were speaking about herbalism at the tavern last night?” Richard asked.
Rowland broke eye contact momentarily, then swallowed. “Why are you asking?”
“Did you hear what they were saying?”
“I heard their concerns regarding the practice of herbalism. I spoke to them when you and Frederick left. Richard, they made some good arguments. For instance, what are the long-term effects of what you’ve done to yourself? We have no way of knowing.”
“You weren’t concerned that they would assault you if they found out you worked on that project?”
“I’ll admit that I was. But I was also curious about what they had to say. Anyway, I didn’t tell them who I was. I mostly asked questions.”
“Who are they exactly?”
“They’re members of an organization that promotes traditional healing over tonics.”
“I’ve never heard of such an organization,” Richard said, partially to himself.
“They’re from East Saltion, though they say their organization began here in Oslidor. They had many claims about their founding that seemed questionable to me, but they were adamant about their history.”
“Another insane group of fanatics,” Richard groaned. “Evidently the city is full of them now.”
“Richard,” Rowland said, lowering his voice even further, “they told me about Esther and what she did in the past. They also told me about your grandfather.”
“What do you mean they told you about my grandfather? What does he have to do with this?”
“They said he and Esther… that they experimented with human parts and fluids.”
“Because they’re fanatics! They’re liars, Rowland!”
Richard had not realized how loud he had yelled. His voice cause Rowland to cower, while behind them, he could hear the typical sounds of working halt. Biting his lip, Richard attempted to calm himself.
“This is what those types of people do,” he whispered. “They go around and invent stories about their enemies so as to make their own cause seem righteous. It’s what we get for passing our time away in a slum like the Shark Eye. We’re drinking too much and our thoughts are becoming clouded. I don’t want to hear any more about them or their claims.”
“Fine,” Rowland said as Richard turned away. “But you’re not in charge of me anymore. You’re just another worker here, you know.”
Richard’s entire body tensed, but he gave no response. Instead, he walked back to his work station where he spent the rest of the day avoiding speaking at all.