'A small amount of figwort seed, and leaves from a number of flowering plants, including marigold. Also some nettles. And some oil, perfumed with lavender. I shall return with these items tomorrow, and the healing can begin.'

Nalademus pushed himself to his feet. 'My guards will go with you, and you will return with them within the hour. The healing will begin tonight,' he said.

Just under two hours later Banouin was ushered into the lavish private apartments of Nalademus, the Stone elder. Velvet curtains hung over the windows, and ornaments of gold and silver adorned the many shelves and tables. The couches were all covered with richly embroidered silk, and even the lanterns glinted with gold.

Nalademus was sitting propped up on a couch, cushions all around him. In the lantern light his face had a waxy sheen. He had removed his crimson robe, and the bare flesh of his shoulders seemed impossibly stretched and swollen.

Banouin placed his medicine pack on a table.

'Did you obtain all you needed?' asked Nalademus.

'Yes, lord. Though the apothecary was terrified to see Knights of Stone at his door.'

'Terror has its uses,' said the sick man. The two guards positioned themselves by the door, and stood silently. 'You mentioned figwort earlier,' said Nalademus. 'I take it you mean to use the seed.'

'Yes, lord. It will help your heart.'

'I understand the seed is a deadly poison.'

'Indeed it is,' agreed Banouin. 'A little too much and the patient dies. I will not use too much.'

Nalademus's head sagged back on the cushion. 'What I told you about hot irons was no idle threat. You understand this?'

'I understand. Now what you must understand is that I need you to relax. Your body is under great stress, and that is not helping your heart. What have your own surgeons prescribed?'

'I have been bled constantly, and I have swallowed several gallons of noxious potions. Now you will prepare me another.'