Read Herb-Witch (Lord Alchemist Duology) for Free Online

your help, Master Peran."
    "Always
good to learn something new, Master Kymus," the bonesetter said
agreeably. "I'll set Nicia to exercising her nose tomorrow."
    Iathor
approved of the muted interest on the apprentice girl's face. "Good
luck to us all, then. And good day to you all." He nodded to
them, shook hands again with Peran, and left.
    Outside,
as Dayn held open the carriage door, Iathor asked, "Any hope the
rest of the day will go smoothly?"
    The
young dramsman grinned. "There's always hope, m'lord."
    " Not reassuring," he muttered as the door closed. "Home, Jeck,"
he called through the panel, and the carriage started into motion.
    Iathor
leaned back against the cushion and idly wished that the first immune
woman he'd ever found hadn't been in a jail cell, nor had a mystery
attached, nor been at least half-guilty of destroying a man's mind.
While he was at it, he wished it hadn't all happened on his
light-work day. Rescheduling would've been a blighted nuisance, but
his secretary would've been present for swifter delegation.
    And
Kessa could've been slightly grateful for the rescue. He was
glad she'd avoided dramatic tears and clutching of robes, but
thinking back, he didn't recall so much as a "thank you"
from the journeyman till he'd fed her.
    He
sighed and stretched out in the carriage, since no one could see him
being less than upright. He'd get lunch (excellent, excellent lunch)
from his cook, see his officers, see the Weavers' Guild's
representative, and perhaps send Baron Rhaus off early. That was ostensibly a social call, after all.
    Traffic
was no more unkind than usual. He made a few mental notes when the
carriage lurched overmuch. It never hurt to gather good will by
offering funds for road-repair.
    Upon
reaching home, he called to Jeck, "Kitchen door, please."
That let him stroll through the back door – and into organized
chaos.
    Iathor
blinked mildly as his household staff dashed about, the youngest
babbling around his steward, while his cook directed her minions to
focus on food instead of distractions.
    Of
the sisters, Tania, the cook, had fewer underlings to wrangle. Iathor
sidled over. "Why's Loria so busy?" he asked, reaching for
a small loaf, destined to be part of a tiny sandwich.
    Tania
mock-swatted his hand. "Your brother's home from Cym, all
unexpected. His own house isn't prepared, what with his servants off with him, so we're opening the guest rooms till he gets his
home aired out."
    "Iasen's
back from the capital already?" Iathor slipped around Tania and
captured a bread-roll. "Did he say why?"
    "Of
course not, m'lord." Tania rolled her eyes. "We're just
dramsmen. Why should we need to know?"
    "To
brief me, I'd hope. I'll kick him in the shins for you."
    "Good
of you, m'lord." His cook patted his cheek maternally. "Now
off with you, before you get underfoot."
    "Yes,
your ladyship!" he said, and retreated in good order, glad his
household coped so well with the unexpected guests.
    While
some of his brother's dramsmen would be off getting Iasen's house
ready, and others would be rearranging the servants' quarters with
Iathor's staff, his brother would likely be in the family
sitting room that linked the two largest bedrooms together.
    The
sitting room door was open, and a fire crackled in the hearth,
ensuring the light autumn chill wasn't just burned off by the sun,
but given an exiling kick of and don't come back . Iasen'd
taken the most comfortable chair, as always. He looked well in his
mostly-gray clothes, also as usual; he'd gotten more of their
mother's good looks, with lighter hair and eyes, and their father's
taller build, though neither brother was anything except slender.
(Iathor still muttered "Scrawny" at himself in the bath, as
he'd done since he was a journeyman.) Iasen'd grown a small,
fashionable beard, luckily matching his hair instead of going redder
or darker.
    "Iasen,
why are you back?" Iathor said as he walked in. "I
thought you were wintering in Cym."
    Iasen
waved a hand