Chapter 4: A Rather Odious Visitor

Jack watched Rhodes pass in front of the Apothecary’s bay window as he walked left down the hill that distinguished the journey to and from anywhere in the two more affluent quarters of the city.

Getting around in the city that time of year was normally quite easy. Although many complained that the weather was still far too cold, Jack appreciated that it had been a fairly dry winter, and as such they were now having a dry early spring. Aside from the intermittent mound of horse slop decorating the middle of the dirt side roads, travel in the three non-Royal quarters was still relatively pleasant, and it promised to be so until warmer temperatures and rain turned the side streets of Lazaras into a network of slippery and treacherous walkways. During that time, Jack and Rhodes saw more cracked tailbones and fractured wrists than at any other time of the year. They referred to it, among themselves of course, as the Senturns of Suffering.

Despite its somewhat macabre namesake, Rhodes saw a fairly large increase in revenue during that two-senturn-long event. He often mused to Jack that if he could offer a cure for a bruised ego, for just one Senturn of Suffering, he could retire and close shop forever. Sadly, arm splints and cures for swelling were the most he could usually offer.

Jack was dragged away from his thoughts by the sound of the shop’s doorbell. Putting down the beakers he had in his hands, Jack went over to the railing to see who had entered before he descended the stairs. Standing in the center of the foyer was a kind-looking older woman of about fifty years holding a small basket. She had a slender build, shoulder-length grey yet lively hair, and a face that retained some of her youthful beauty, which had once made her quite the catch in her heyday. Jack knew this woman to be Rhodes’ wife, Helen.

“Hullo, Mrs. Rhodes. If you’re looking for your husband you just missed him. He left for Daellus’ about half a chime ago.” Helen greeted Jack with a brief yet warm hug. “He should be back in no time.”

“Oh? Did my scatterbrained husband say what it was at Daellus’ he was so interested in seeing?”

“Something about a rare insect that Daellus found, I think. You could wait for him here if it pleases you, Mrs. Rhodes.”

“That’s all right, dear boy. I know where Daellus lives. I was just going to bring my husband his lunch.” With a sweet smile, she indicated the basket she was holding. “Also, it smells like death in here, so there’s that. How have you not wretched up your breakfast, Jack?”

Jack was immediately reminded of the horrid smell emanating from the de-fleshing cauldron and realized he had begun to filter it out of his senses.

“Thanks for reminding me, Mrs. Rhodes,” Jack said good-naturedly. “You’d be surprised what we Apothecaries can ignore.”

A brief look of sadness floated across Helen’s face. “No, I really wouldn’t.”

At that moment, the bell atop the door rang again as it was opened. Momentarily blinded by the bright midday sun, Jack’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the light as someone stepped into the apothecary. The man who had entered had a slight, almost sickly frame and was a full head shorter than Jack, although that might have been because the man had a terribly hunched back. He was carrying an ornamental-looking staff of black stone that was surmounted by five points, and he made a shuffle-shuffle-knock sound as he moved. Jack’s eyes readjusted to the dim lighting of the shop as the man spoke in a raspy voice that dripped with condescension and bitterness.

“I am looking for Amadeus Rhodes. I demand to see him at once.” Jack immediately detested the man’s superior demeanor, though he replied politely, nevertheless.

“I apologize, Milord, but Master Rhodes is away on personal business. You’re free to wait here until he returns, or perhaps there’s something I can help you with?” The man made a scoff as if he found the very idea laughable.

“I doubt that, boy. I require an item that old fool said he’d procure for me.”

Now that Jack could see clearly again, he recognized the man standing in the doorway. He had black, oily hair that stopped at his shoulders with a very noticeable bald patch in the center of his pale head. Aside from his pale, watery eyes, his face and demeanor matched that of a perpetually annoyed rodent, and he had a stench of stale sweat coming off him that made Jack want to gag, which was saying something considering the smell emanating from the bubbling cauldron that, until recently, had a human head inside. The only thing about him that indicated his importance was his exquisite black robe and the necklace with the royal seal that hung around his pale neck. Jack at once found him to be an unfavorable specimen of a man.

He knew this disgruntled figure standing before him as Bors Vasyl, the High Steward of the Stalwart and personal Advisor to King Durgas. Jack had never spoken with Vasyl before, yet he had seen him hovering over the King’s shoulder every time His Majesty spoke to his court.

Jack supposed that Helen found Vasyl to be a contemptible fellow as well, for she bowed politely to the Advisor, muttered a perfunctory greeting, and bid them farewell as she left the store. She followed the same path down the road her husband had taken a short time before, leaving Jack to deal with the Royal Advisor.

“If you tell me what you need, I’m sure I can find it for you, Milord, although Master Rhodes mentioned nothing of this to me,” Jack said in the most appeasing tone he could muster. He didn’t need this man slandering Rhodes’ good name in court. Jack knew that when Rhodes wasn’t in the apothecary, Jack was his representative and was expected to act in a professional and courteous manner.

The shop’s bell rang again as two more men stepped into the apothecary from the now blustering street, and unlike the huddled Vasyl these men were tall, thick-necked, and decked in the uniform of the Royal Guard. Vasyl’s personal escort, Jack supposed.

“Never mind what I’m after, boy. Your Master has informed me of where this item is kept, and I don’t need help from the likes of you to find it.” Vasyl started to make his way to the laboratory. Jack was about to protest Lord Vasyl’s intrusion when he heard the sound of glass breaking where one of the guards was standing.

“Great,” Jack muttered to himself. He spied the shattered remains of the jar that had fallen off its shelf and the foul-looking contents that had spread out over the wooden floor. “Please try to be more careful, sirs. Much of what you see here is quite fragile.”

“Then perhaps it should be of stronger construction,” the large man replied.

Jack began to clean, and by the time he was finished the pompous Royal Advisor had returned from the back room. He told Jack, “I have found what I’m seeking. Tell your master he’ll receive what he’s due via courier. I shall send a boy hereafter.”

“Very good, Milord. I shall let Master Rhodes know...”

But the unwholesome man and his entourage were already out the door.

“You ill-mannered rat. How a man like you rose to such a position in the castle is beyond me.” Jack was quite glad to be rid of that contemptible man.

After applying vinegar to the spot where the jar had fallen, which Jack deduced from its consistency must have been embalming fluid, he searched the apothecary’s laboratory to determine what Vasyl had taken. He found nothing missing. Perplexed and frustrated, Jack set about tidying up the shop in no particular order, running through in his mind all the small verbal jabs he wished he could have leveled at Bors Vasyl. ‘Nice oil, does it come with more hair?’ ‘I like your robe, Vasyl, is there a man’s version?’

Rhodes returned later with a rather disappointed look on his face, muttering about a big fuss over an oversized house spider. Jack promptly told his employer what had occurred earlier on and was met with the same confusion that had beset Jack.

“I recall receiving an order from the castle with Bors Vasyl’s signature on it, but that was to be delivered later this senturn. He never mentioned anything about coming to pick it up himself,” mused Rhodes. “What was it he took?”

“I’m not sure,” replied Jack, “As far as I could tell nothing was taken at all.”

“Hmm, that is odd, but I’m sure that man has his reasons. Important business for the King and whatnot. We’d best pay it no more mind, lad,” said Rhodes. His tone was one of finality.