Amazonia's poultry queen, and she would have been as plain as a pudding had it not been for the broad smile on her face.
'Now, what can I be doing for you, me lovely?' she asked Salome.
'I was hoping you might help this pair of tots hunt down some eggs for their supper.'
'Sure, me darlings.' Naim scooped a child under each ample arm. 'Sure we can, but if you're wanting to hunt 'em, we'd best find you some bows and arrows first, hadn't we?'
She led her two chuckling charges into the yard.
'Or would you rather be attacking them eggs with a spear?'
Salome waited until the giggles were well clear of the treatment room.
'Right then, Jarna.' She wiped her hands down the side of her gown as though it was an old apron. 'Lora tells me you're pregnant.'
The tanner's wife gulped and stared at her hands.
Salome wasn't a girl to go beating round bushes. 'If you want to keep the baby, Jarna, you're going to have to leave that vicious husband of yours before he kills it with his fists.
Assuming she proceeded to prod Jarna's stomach with expert fingers - 'he hasn't done so already.'
'He hasn't, has he?' What little colour was left in Jarna's cheeks drained to white.
'No. No, thank Jehovah, he hasn't, but we both know he will. Lora, mix an infusion of cinnamon and ginger, will you, dear? That'll ease any morning sickness and Lora will also give you a supply of marsh-mallow poultices for the swellings.'
'Should I add a phial of hyssop oil for the bruises?' Lora asked over her shoulder.
'Good idea.' Salome helped Jarna back into her clothes. 'Now think about what I've said, my dear, and remember. My house is always open to you.'
'Thank you.' From her purse, Jarna pulled out her only coin.
'Save it,' Salome said, pushing it back. 'Buy some clothes for the children before he drinks it away.'
'You and the tanner have much in common,' Claudia observed after Jarna had gone.
'How so?' Salome didn't seem particularly rattled by the comparison.
'Neither of you pulls your punches,' she said. 'And I get your point about there being no money in medicine around here.'
'We do all right,' Salome assured her. As long as I make sufficient to cover my costs, I'm happy, really I am, but listen! That's the lunch horn. Please say you'll stay.'
Tempting . . .
'I can't,' Claudia told her.
'I quite understand.' Salome nodded. 'Mazares is waiting.'
Now why on earth would she think that? Claudia wondered, as she waited for the ferry to take her back to Rovin. That there was something between them was in little doubt, and she couldn't forget the intensity of the surge when they bumped into each other by accident. Both recovered quickly, but Claudia knew that if either Salome or Mazares had been prepared for such a meeting, their reactions would have been very different indeed.
As the ferryman pulled on the ropes, she stared into the dark, oily waters. The very depth of the channel made for currents that were as dangerous as they were unpredictable, and the undertow was deadly in every sense of the word. Next to the landing, a marble shrine, hung with dozens of red mourning ribbons, testified to the fate of those who'd attempted to swim the quarter mile out of folly, drunkenness, necessity or bravado, and a flame burned day and night in supplication to Vinja, the fire-breathing sea monster who protected the island but who also made his home in this channel, devouring any unfortunates who came his way.
A dread feeling in Claudia's stomach told her that Raspor was one of his victims.
How sad that the beauty of Rovin was disfigured by tragedy. Gazing across waters so clear that you could dress yourself in their reflection, to the evergreen archipelago that shimmered under an azure sky, it was hard to imagine heartbreak in this oasis of cypress and cedar. Claudia's eyes followed the necklace of long, curving beaches that encased coral lagoons swarming with turtles and shellfish, then turned her head towards the mainland, to the fertile paradise of
'Now, what can I be doing for you, me lovely?' she asked Salome.
'I was hoping you might help this pair of tots hunt down some eggs for their supper.'
'Sure, me darlings.' Naim scooped a child under each ample arm. 'Sure we can, but if you're wanting to hunt 'em, we'd best find you some bows and arrows first, hadn't we?'
She led her two chuckling charges into the yard.
'Or would you rather be attacking them eggs with a spear?'
Salome waited until the giggles were well clear of the treatment room.
'Right then, Jarna.' She wiped her hands down the side of her gown as though it was an old apron. 'Lora tells me you're pregnant.'
The tanner's wife gulped and stared at her hands.
Salome wasn't a girl to go beating round bushes. 'If you want to keep the baby, Jarna, you're going to have to leave that vicious husband of yours before he kills it with his fists.
Assuming she proceeded to prod Jarna's stomach with expert fingers - 'he hasn't done so already.'
'He hasn't, has he?' What little colour was left in Jarna's cheeks drained to white.
'No. No, thank Jehovah, he hasn't, but we both know he will. Lora, mix an infusion of cinnamon and ginger, will you, dear? That'll ease any morning sickness and Lora will also give you a supply of marsh-mallow poultices for the swellings.'
'Should I add a phial of hyssop oil for the bruises?' Lora asked over her shoulder.
'Good idea.' Salome helped Jarna back into her clothes. 'Now think about what I've said, my dear, and remember. My house is always open to you.'
'Thank you.' From her purse, Jarna pulled out her only coin.
'Save it,' Salome said, pushing it back. 'Buy some clothes for the children before he drinks it away.'
'You and the tanner have much in common,' Claudia observed after Jarna had gone.
'How so?' Salome didn't seem particularly rattled by the comparison.
'Neither of you pulls your punches,' she said. 'And I get your point about there being no money in medicine around here.'
'We do all right,' Salome assured her. As long as I make sufficient to cover my costs, I'm happy, really I am, but listen! That's the lunch horn. Please say you'll stay.'
Tempting . . .
'I can't,' Claudia told her.
'I quite understand.' Salome nodded. 'Mazares is waiting.'
Now why on earth would she think that? Claudia wondered, as she waited for the ferry to take her back to Rovin. That there was something between them was in little doubt, and she couldn't forget the intensity of the surge when they bumped into each other by accident. Both recovered quickly, but Claudia knew that if either Salome or Mazares had been prepared for such a meeting, their reactions would have been very different indeed.
As the ferryman pulled on the ropes, she stared into the dark, oily waters. The very depth of the channel made for currents that were as dangerous as they were unpredictable, and the undertow was deadly in every sense of the word. Next to the landing, a marble shrine, hung with dozens of red mourning ribbons, testified to the fate of those who'd attempted to swim the quarter mile out of folly, drunkenness, necessity or bravado, and a flame burned day and night in supplication to Vinja, the fire-breathing sea monster who protected the island but who also made his home in this channel, devouring any unfortunates who came his way.
A dread feeling in Claudia's stomach told her that Raspor was one of his victims.
How sad that the beauty of Rovin was disfigured by tragedy. Gazing across waters so clear that you could dress yourself in their reflection, to the evergreen archipelago that shimmered under an azure sky, it was hard to imagine heartbreak in this oasis of cypress and cedar. Claudia's eyes followed the necklace of long, curving beaches that encased coral lagoons swarming with turtles and shellfish, then turned her head towards the mainland, to the fertile paradise of
Similar Books
