An Affordance

Oona eventually crept back into the cabin holding her stomach and groaning. She collapsed with no grace upon her bedroll.

"Are you okay?" Was all Rokas could think to ask as he knelt beside her.

"Oh, I've been better." She said weakly after taking some deep breaths.

Rokas's face grew more serious. He placed his hand on her forehead and was shocked to find she felt cold. Just minutes ago sitting against her was like being warmed by a furnace, but already she had taken on a chill.

"Can you get up? Lets get you into the bed." He started immediately pulling down the sheets and adjusting the pillow.

"I can just lay here." She croaked from the floor, but Rokas did not take that for an answer.

The smith had no idea exactly how much Oona weighed but found that she required a startling amount of assistance to get up again from where she was laying. His back bent under her as she looped one of her arms around his shoulder. Moments ago this level of closeness was an excitement, now he was afraid.

He guided her onto the mattress and narrowly averted a tumble to the floor of the cabin. Eventually she flopped into the bed with all the grace of a falling tree. He pulled the chair to the bedside and poured a mug of water for her, setting it easily within arm's reach. The sparse nature of the cabin's furnishing required creativity at times. Rokas would not have minded a nightstand right about now.

He was very nearly in a state of panic. While he had only known Oona for a short time he had grown very fond of her. Beyond just the flirtations and thoughts which he regarded cynically he found that he had grown to rely upon her. The timing of her taking ill served only to intensify the unease of the situation.

"What are you feeling?"

"Pain? A lot of pain." She winced as she said this closing her eyes and clenching her jaw. Her breathing hissed between her teeth.

"More specific please." He tried to sound calm.

"Cramping in my stomach. I feel like someone has pounded a metal spike into my skull. My back aches and I feel cold."

As far as Rokas knew that basically described all of the symptoms one could have. He held the mug up to her face. "Do you want a drink?"

She took a couple of small sips, but groaned a little as it went down.

"This reminds me of the time I ate the wrong mushroom." She chuckled ruefully.

The smith wondered just how close to the truth that notion of her's might be. He stood and quickly threw on his coat.

"Hold tight, Oona, I am going to go get some help." He said as he started for the door.

"I think I'll be right here when you get back." She sounded a little out of it.

It was less than a half hour later that he returned. Fionn entered with him a little sheepishly. The Alchemist was in a long sleeping gown and had a leather case in one hand. He sat it upon the desk and turned to Rokas who was now standing over the inert form of his assistant.

"I am not a physician, or some hedge druid, but some of what I have may help her." He said as he went over to examine Oona.

She did not stir when he placed his hand on her forehead nor when he took her pulse, but opening her eyes to look at her pupils did get a reaction. She groaned and opened her other eye.

"I am not certain my eyes are the problem." She said quietly.

"Her pupils are dilated. There might be a psychoactive element. Her heart beat seems weak. It is hard to tell, I have never examined someone with her Pact before- her body may route blood differently than ours."

Fionn went over to the table where his case was and opened it. Inside were many corked vials stored upright of various sizes. To one side of this was a division that contained both tins and pouches of unknown compounds. Some of the tins and vials were sealed in wax and impressed with an emblem which Rokas took to the Fionn's. He could not recognize the plant or herb which it depicted nor did he know the language which scrolled around it. Maybe something particular to the alchemical trade.

"Everything I have read about Pact Bearers says they are all but immune to normal illness. They survive plagues- the Wolf more so even than others. I think she has ingested something poisonous."

The alchemist was sorting through the vials until he came upon a small vial, corked and sealed with wax. A tag hung from the bottle that read, "Emetic." He handed it to Rokas.

"Give her this, but have a bucket on hand."

"Oh, I don't like the sound of that." Oona murmured from the bed.

"Afterwards I can give her something that will neutralize many poisons and something that will reduce her pain, but I will have to-" He cut his own sentence short, eyes transfixed upon something on the table. "Where did you get this cake?"

On the table was what remained of the fruit cake from the party. Oona had eaten three quarters of it, not bothering with cutting it, she had bitten directly into the dessert. The gnawed-upon portion that remained showed a number of colorful berries and dried fruit slices.

"It was from the party." Rokas said, reaching to take it out of Fionn's way only to find that the alchemist had seized his hand by the wrist.

"Do not touch that with your bare hands."

Some time later Fionn had donned both thin leather gloves that had been sealed with wax and a long pointed mask complete with goggles. The mask was designed such that when one wearing it breathed in the air would be drawn through a cylinder made of a metallic mesh and filled with a specially prepared charcoal. He said it would protect him from inhaling anything dangerous.

Oona seemed to no longer need the bucket, but Rokas kept it nearby just in case. The first couple of times she retched what issued forth contained traces of blood. She was doing better, there was a light which had returned to her eyes. She was aware and reported that the pain had lessened greatly. Fionn gave her a second and third vial, each containing different substances and whatever was in the third had relaxed her greatly.

"If she were a normal person she would already be dead." The alchemist announced.

"I am very normal, thank you."

"Is that the poison doing that or what you gave her?" Rokas asked Fionn. He was sitting at the end of the bed and Oona kicked him weakly.

"I think they are reacting oddly together." Fion admitted as he held a small and innocuous-seeming berry in the gentle grasp of a pair of tweezers. His voice was muffled by the mask but not so much that he could not be understood.

He had dissected the offending dessert with the precision of a clockmaker. There were now two vials open upon the table. One contained identified berries, dried citrus, and apricot. The other contained seven berries with a purple hue. Even dried and cooked there was a faintly pearlescent sheen to their skin.

"Quickfall Berries. They cause both internal hemorrhaging and suppress the nervous system. They are found in the mountains nearby, but most people realize when their hands begin to tingle upon holding them that they are not good to eat. We can estimate that Oona ate something like twenty of these berries." Fionn looked over at her resting in the bed. "One or two of these would kill a grown man within a day, untreated. And it would be agonizing the entire time." He added.

"He said tingle." Oona chimed in.

After depositing the last berry in the vial the alchemist put a stopper on the vessel and poured candle wax upon the cork, sealing it.

"Why are you taking that with you?" Rokas asked, eying the vial cautiously.

"Never waste a good poison." The alchemist grinned.

"Could this have been an accident?" The smith wondered aloud.

"It isn't impossible, but nobody else in town has come looking for me in the meanwhile. I'll check my own bag when I get home. Maybe nobody else eats fruit cake."

"If your cake doesn't have these berries should we still warn everyone?" Rokas asked, unsure of what to do.

On the one hand, it was their duty to try and avoid any further poisonings in town, but on the other hand if an attempt had been made on his life it might be better to keep a low profile, just in case a follow-up attempt came quickly. He supposed he could trust Fionn; his treatment had seemed to help Oona, but who at the party wanted Rokas dead? The meeting with the Mayor had gone poorly and it was clear there was a lot going on behind the scenes, but nothing about that meeting made the smith feel like his life was in danger. Oona was more concerned with stealing wine than any danger and she might even be able to smell if someone was more angry or scared than made sense in the circumstances.

"I think if mine lacks the berries we can be pretty sure it was a targeted attempt. You may want to eat with silver if you are able. Or have Oona be your taster."

Rokas gestured to the cabin around them. "Unfortunately, I seem to have misplaced our fine dining utensils."

The suggestion of having Oona test things before him bothered him more than he fully understood. Already she almost died from an attack that was aimed at him. At least, he thought it was aimed at him. He had wondered about the death of his predecessor occasionally, mostly at night when he was restless. Did someone have a profound dislike of blacksmiths or was there some other commonality? Both he and the other smith were new to town and obviously they did the same work.

"Did you know my predecessor?" Rokas asked.

"No, I never met the man. When he died it was the talk of town, but I only know rumors."

"Did he have any friends or anyone who he talked with frequently?"

"I like your line of reasoning, but I unfortunately just do not know." The alchemist sighed and began packing up his equipment.

Rokas sighed and nodded. It would be too convenient if there were a lead so easily at hand. If he started asking around after the previous smith it might even attract more unwanted attention. One attempted assassination might be the end of it, but not if the culprit also knew Rokas was on his trail.

"Be safe, friend. It might be best if the two of us do not discuss this past this night." Rokas said to Fionn and patted the alchemist's shoulder.

"I will help you if I am able, but drop a note by my place rather than come calling in daylight." Fionn said as he stepped outside of the cabin.

"I like your boyfriend." Oona said a bit too early for Fionn to have been out of earshot.

Rokas sighed and closed the door to the sound of Oona giggling.

"I'm not the jealous type I hope you know." She added.

It was hard to be certain which of the substances Oona had ingested was now influencing her behavior. Much of the wine and cake had made it way out of her, one way or another. Still, she was in an annoying and giddy mood. Rokas regretted they had been interrupted, but she was in no condition to continue that sort of exploration at the moment. Giddy was a marked improvement from actively dying.

He sat at the end of the bed and noted that her feet overhung the end of it when she stretched out her legs. "You should get some rest."

She struggled meekly at her robe in response, tugging its hem up but barely making it as far as her knees. "S'warm." She muttered.

"Do you want me to help?" He asked.

She nodded.

With some effort the two of them were able to work the robe over her body and eventually her head. Her hair fell in a cascade around her head and shoulders as she relaxed again into the bed. He pulled the thin sheets over her form without much delay. He had already seen her naked, but this context did something to deaden the thrill of the sight of her. He was happy that this drive of his was at least aware that there was a time and a place for such a thing. Still, she was impressive to behold.

"What about you?" She asked.

"What about me?"

"There is room for two."

He was pretty sure there was not. The bed was not spacious when occupied only by him and it was no more well suited for her. While the two of them could fit, it would have to be at least partly on top of one another.

"Focus on resting tonight, I can take your bedroll." Rokas said.

She mumbled something unintelligible and rolled over in the covers, closing her eyes.

He stripped down to his underclothes and settled into her bedding. It was not as comfortable as a bed, but it was a big improvement from sleeping on the floor. He felt a little less guilty for making Oona sleep here. His mind was still racing for a while from the turbulence of the day, but eventually sleep found him.

Rokas woke to the sound of Oona closing the door having returned from being outside. She walked a little unsteadily and slowly, but she was able to return to the bed unaided. She threw herself face first into the bed in an entirely graceless fashion.

She was also still naked.

"We really need to get you a gown or something." He said, pulling the covers of her bedding over his face. Breathing through the sheets he wondered if he could detect Oona's smell upon them.

"Oh grow up. You've seen me plenty by now." Oona said.

"I'll concede that point, but what about some passerby on the road out front?"

"I received no complaints in the months before you got here."

He lowered the covers but did not look in her direction.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I drank an entire bar dry and then was beat about my stomach and back with sticks." She really was not bad at description when she was motivated. "But a lot better, thanks."

"I was worried about you." He said.

"I know. I remember your face as it was going on. Were it not for the agonizing pain I would have found your fretfulness cute." She shifted about on the bed to lay her back, hand on her forehead. "There was a package at the door. I left it on the table."

Rokas rose from the bedroll and looked across the room at the table. Sure enough a small paper-wrapped package bound in course thread was sitting there. There was a terse note included and a small vial with a number of tablets contained within.

The note read, in thin and meticulous handwriting:

Rokas and Oona.

Oona should take two of these a day, once in the morning and again at night. They should ease her recovery. If Oona does has not mostly recovered in five days from now or if she begins to cough blood (or if other hemorrhaging occurs) seek out Dalma with haste.

With trust,

Fionn

Rokas took note of a small watermark upon the paper that matched both vials and tins that he had noticed the prior night and also the wax seal which was upon the vial of tablets which he now held. There was a postscript:

P.S.

As for payment, come see me once this matter has been fully and safely resolved.

Rokas was certain this was to indicate that they would settle up once the threat of murder was no longer present. Or not at all. As for seeking out the priest, Dalma, he was not certain if that was for medical assistance or for funerary preparations.

"What does it say?" Oona asked.

He relayed the note to her and gave her one of the tablets, filling a mug of water for her to take it. She sniffed the pill cautiously, a sensible action from the perspective of one so recently poisoned. The medication must have passed her scrutiny because she swallowed it without the offered water.

"How well do you know Dalma, Oona?" The smith asked her.

She shrugged, "She won't leave me alone, so I know her better than I would like."

"Would you trust her?"

She sat up and crossed her arms over her breasts, which Rokas was pointedly not looking at. "I think she can be trusted, yes. She does everything short of venerating me every time she is around though. I may not have the most clear of impressions of her. Why do you ask?"

"I think one or both of our lives may still be in danger. There is a possibility that if we do nothing they'll try again, but it is also possible that whoever is responsible won't risk another attempt after the first failed." He was looking at the note closely, but it held no insight that he could glean. At least it gave him something to look at that wasn't his naked assistant. "I hate to just wait for a blade that may or may not strike. I need information. I have no idea why we have been targeted or by whom, but theunfortunate," he emphasized the word, "death of my predecessor makes me think the two events must be connected."

"We could just hole up in here. What are they going to do?"

"Burn the place down? There is a precedent."

"Oh." Oona said.

"So what would you do?"

"I would walk into the woods and out of this entire situation." She smiled.

"And leave me to my fate?"

"You could come along with me, the woods are big enough for the both of us."

Rokas did not think her offer sounded that bad in comparison to the threat of an unknown assailant, but he was a man of civilization in the end. Hearth was remote, but he could see it becoming a true home to him in time. That was much of why this entire situation infuriated him so much. They had hurt Oona and thrown into doubt his future for obscure reasons. He was loath to flee from such a situation- besides, he didn't think it was possible right now.

"You are still weak, could you even manage that right now?" Rokas asked.

She clenched a fist in front of her face and furrowed her brow. Even now there was a tremor in her limbs which had not been there before the poisoning.

"I could not." She admitted eventually.

"And if armed men came here to assail us, could you defend yourself?"

"Against one, maybe two I would be fine. Anything more than that and I think my strength would fail."

The statement was so matter-of-fact that she must have had some prior experience to which she was comparing her current state. That she felt so confidant in the outcome even in a stricken state was surprising to him. Just how dangerous did she feel she was when she was healthy?

"You could fight off two men with swords as you are now?"

"I don't want to try, but I was a soldier you know. It isn't like I've never had to kill someone before. I just put that behind me."

"You realize you are naked at this moment, right?"

"A little fixated on that, aren't you?" She grinned.

"Hard to not notice, but you know what I mean."

"I may be naked, but I do have inch-long claws. I am not feeling myself, but that won't stop me from ripping someone's arm from their socket if they're trying to stick me." She made a rough miming of ripping someone's arm off to illustrate.

Her gesticulation did little to paint a picture in his mind's eye.

"What if you were armed?"

"I am too weak right now for it to matter. My stamina just isn't there. I got out of breath just walking to the outhouse. I wouldn't mind a sword in hand, but it isn't going to matter much until I have the strength to wield it. I am not looking for a fight, but if one is looking for me I will meet it in kind."

If this came to a head in the next couple of days he could not rely on Oona being able to fight their way out of a dangerous situation. Nor did he really want to have to do that. The tone in her voice when she had talked of killing was not boastful. It was a sound of deep regret. She had passed on what might have been a long and decorated career by her own account.

He cracked his knuckles having decided what he would do.

"I have a couple of things I would like to take care of today or tomorrow. I will be away for much of the day, are you okay without me here?" He looked into her eyes as he asked this.

She smiled, seemingly reading something in his expression that comforted her. "I will be fine."

"Do you want me to leave the axe with you?"

"I am more armed without it than you are with."

"Okay, but try to keep any bloodshed outside if you can."

He felt a little better the moment he left the cabin. He was still worried about Oona, but inaction would have somehow been worse. He hung the axe on his belt as he started towards town hoping that his coat would obscure it somewhat. He wanted to achieve a balance between the axe being unobtrusive to carry and not seeming like he was making too big a secret of it. He imagined he looked very silly, but perhaps less so than he would if he had just carried it in his hands. If you start walking everywhere with an axe right in hand people could get to talking. Usually something along the lines of, "We should get away from that man who is carrying an axe."