Rancid Chronicles: part 8

[Lo Ki]

I was sitting in my overstuffed chair in my robe and tenderly nursing a black eye with a hot damp cloth when he let himself in. I looked up wearily as he walked over to me. I started to rise but he put a hand on my arm to stop me. I winced as he had touched another bruise. He looked me over and then reached over and pulled the top of my robe open a bit. He eyed the mottled black, blue, and purple of the bruises covering my chest.

“Looks like someone else has a tale to tell today,” he said. “Just rest easy for bit.”

Rancid fetched the kettle from the cupboard and went to the water barrel to fill it. Unfortunately I had not been in any shape to fetch water from the public well for the last couple of days and had used the last of the water to bath my aches today. I hoped he might take the buckets and get more water so that I wouldn’t have to for another day. Instead he pulled another pint-sized bottle of blue glass from a large pouch on his belt and poured water from it into the kettle. He stoked the fire and hung the kettle on the hook over the blaze.

He then surprised me by taking the same bottle and up-ending it over the water barrel. I thought he had emptied the bottle into the kettle but it now poured a seemly endless stream of water into the barrel. It took several minutes but he filled the barrel and then turned and also filled the buckets I used to carry the water from the well.

By then the kettle had begun to whistle. He took the kettle from it’s hook and set it on the hearth. He got a cup and bowl from the cupboard and pulled a small box from his beltpouch. He folded a few pinches of some herb into a square of cheese cloth and steeped it in a bowl of hot water which he placed on the small table by my chair. An earthy, minty aroma began to fill the room. He folded another pinch of herbs in cheesecloth and steeped it in a cup of water which he placed in my hands. I was already breathing easier and less painfully just from the aroma of the first concoction. I sipped gingerly from the cup and found the tea to be slightly bitter with a woody taste, but it was not unpleasant. I certainly like the warmth that seemed to fill me and further ease my aches. My small patron then pulled up the chair from my desk and sat down.

“So, tell me your story,” he said.

I took a deep breath and winced as pain from my cacked ribs shot through my body. I slowly exhaled and began. “When I took the first of those gold coins to the money changer they congratulated me on my good fortune. When I went to change a second coin, they seemed less enthusiastic. When I went to change a third, I was met on the way home by several thugs who hustled me into an alley They proceeded to explain to me why I needed their protection by demonstrating what could happen to me without it.. They took the money I carried as their first payment. They are expecting more; and they expect it at a rate which I cannot hope to meet despite your generosity.“ I sipped my tea as I waited to see how he would respond.

Rancid smiled as he said, “I do occasionally forget to take care of the details; but, don’t worry, I’ll handle this.”

He got up and busied himself with something; I did not see what as my eyelids were becoming very heavy. I finished my tea and nodded off.

When I awoke, I found several small cheesecloth packets on the table beside me. I assumed those by the bowl were for their aroma and those by the cup were for tea. When I rose to answer the call of nature, I found my chamber pots had been emptied.

I was feeling much better and decided to write down this account of my patrons most recent visit. That’s when I noticed the small stack of silver coins on my desk.