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Now!”
    Henwyneb held out the bowl and Corwin greedily took it, not caring that he spilled a few scalding drops on his breeches. He drank the stew down, tasting mussels and scraps of venison and rabbit, carrots and cabbage seasoned with thyme, parsley, and juniper berries. Corwin sighed and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes. It was the most exquisite meal he had ever tasted. “Ah, this is wonderful,” he moaned.
    â€œHunger does make the best sauce, doesn’t it?” Henwyneb said, sitting on the other stool. “Now, tell me about this medicine you need, and whether it’s for yourself or someone else.”
    Corwin took some moments to gobble the rest of the stew down. “Could I have some more stew, first?” he asked.
    â€œBy all means,” said Henwyneb with an amused smile. “Hearing such praise for my humble cooking, how could I say no?”
    Corwin ladled himself a brimming bowlful from the kettle and drank it down again, finding it as delicious as the first. As madnesses go , he thought, this might not be so bad after all.
    At last, with a big sigh, wiping his mouth on his sleeve, Corwin was ready to set down the bowl and tell Henwyneb everything that had happened to him that morning—of the leviathan on the shore, and the horrible red sea serpent, the strange mark on his hand, and the illness that had struck him afterward.
    As Corwin talked, Henwyneb set about heating some water on the hearth. He took down a jar from a nearby shelf and sprinkled some dry herbs into a tiny muslin drawstring bag. Placing this in a mug, he poured hot water into it.
    Corwin was finishing with, “. . . and so I finally got up to come here, but I kept noticing everything around me as if I were a child again and . . . what is that?” The herbal smell was fascinating to his newly sensitive nose.
    â€œA tisane of marigold leaves and chamomile and mint and . . . oh, a few other things. I find it a soothing tonic for aches and offenses to the stomach, and at least it won’t bring you any harm. Until I have a more specific notion of what’s wrong with you, this medicine will have to do.”
    Corwin took the mug in his hands and inhaled the steam. He sipped at the tea, and it tasted mostly like water with leaves steeped in it, but the scent was soothing all by itself. “Thank you, Henwyneb. You’re very nice to a stranger.”
    â€œPshaw, you’re no stranger, despite the fact that you choose not to tell me your name. You’ve been in my home before. And I sense that you’re as much in need of friends as I am. Now, as to your tale,” Henwyneb said, rubbing his cheek thoughtfully, “it’s as strange as any I’ve heard in a long while. And I’ve heard many, I can assure you, from the sailors and fishermen whom I’ve met. The sea is a vast, uncharted world, which men can only skim the surface of. What lies beneath, no man can truly know.”
    He’s beginning to sound like Fenwyck , Corwin thought. Although Fenwyck had been the sort of man who believed truth was an annoying obstacle to getting what you wanted; Henwyneb was the sort of man who seemed incapable of speaking anything but truth.
    The old blind button-maker stood and began to pace the small room. “As to the leviathan, well . . . many a bizarre creature has washed up onto that strand. I have heard tales that would make you shake your head in wonder. Stories of whales larger than this house. Or of the unicorn of the sea, the narwhal, which is very like a whale but has a horn that juts from its forehead.”
    â€œAs I said,” Corwin interrupted, “I’ve seen whales, and this wasn’t like those. It was more like an octopus, but huge. I found that shell I gave you tangled up in its tentacles.”
    Henwyneb frowned. “The shell may have been within it only coincidentally. Or perhaps the leviathan, too, treasured the