Wellspring of Chaos Read Online Free Page B

expression had been warm and friendly on a cloudy afternoon, and not asking for anything. He found himself smiling as he left the square behind and made his way the last hundred cubits to Hyesal’s apothecary shop, clearly marked with the crossed pestles above the door.
    Kharl entered and stepped up to the long counter, time-aged golden oak, on which were arrayed various health tinctures. He looked around the small front room, but didn’t see the apothecary. “Hyesal?” There was no answer. “Hyesal!”
    “Just a moment!” came the querulous reply. “If you’re someone I know, just wait. If you’re someone I don’t, you can take that chance, too.” Kharl grinned and stood there, waiting, his eyes going over the bottles lined up at the back of the counter, taking in the labels— Morning Tonic, Digestive Tincture, Rheumatism Salve ...
    The small but angular apothecary appeared behind the counter, as if by magery. “Well, Kharl… what is it that won’t wait but a moment?”
    “Sealant, the one you make for the good barrels. Arthal was supposed to come by—”
    “Never did. I would have had it waiting here for you.”
    “Do you have any ready?”
    “I can’t say as I do, Kharl, and it’s not something I can slop together while you stand there. ‘Sides, it’s got to stand overnight.”
    Kharl could feel his anger rising, but Hyesal hadn’t created the problem. Arthal had. So he held his tongue.
    “Tell you what. After I finish this tincture, I’ll get to work on it, and you can pick it up first thing in the morning.”
    “I’d appreciate that. I would. I’ve been working on these fancy fifth-barrels for Yualt… Arthal… he told me he’d come by…”
    “And you never forgot anything when you were young and starstruck over some lass?”
    “He doesn’t have enough brains to be starstruck at the moment.” Kharl snorted.
    Hyesal laughed. “Be ready in the morning.” The apothecary turned and left Kharl standing at the counter.
    With a shrug, the cooper stepped back and left the shop. In most cities, he would have gotten sealant from an alchemist, but not in Brysta, not that it mattered to Kharl so long as the sealant worked. What worked, that was what mattered, not which craft produced it.
    Outside, he could smell the dampness of the rain that had already begun to fall on the ocean beyond the breakwaters, and he lengthened his stride as he hurried back up the gentle incline of Crafters’ Lane toward the square and his own shop.
    The blackstaffer and the beggar had left the square, but a small figure in gray accosted Kharl as he passed the empty stone sitting wall. “Master Kharl! How be the best cooper in Brysta?”
    “Jekat… how’s the most flattering urchin in Brysta?”
    “Not bad, Master Kharl. ‘Course a copper or two’d help.” A grin crossed the towhead’s grimy face.
    “Coppers always help.” The cooper grinned. “You know anyone who needs barrels?”
    “I heard the renderer—Werwal—he’s going to be needing some barrels ‘fore long. I told Sikal—that’s his man—he ought to see you. Werwal won’t talk to me, but Sikal will.”
    Kharl slipped a copper from his purse. “Take this, you worthless urchin.” He couldn’t help smiling.
    “Thank you, ser, and I’ll not be telling no one ‘bout your kindness.” Jekat skipped away across the square.
    Kharl was less than half a block from the shop when the rain began to fall—fat drops that splattered against everything. He began to hurry, but the shoulders of his gray tunic were black with water by the time he dashed into the shop.
    “Is that you, Kharl?” called Charee from up the stairs.
    “Sure as life.” Kharl raised his voice to make sure Charee could hear him above the heavy rain pelting down on the roof. “Almost made it back before it started raining. Arthal never ordered the sealant. Won’t be ready before tomorrow. Where’s Warrl?”
    “I sent him to Fyona’s with the embroidery. He came in right