Page 21 of Highland Storm

“Not only disease, but it’ll keep away insects as well.” He picked up a sprig between two fingers, studying it, and twirling it around. “Did you know this was used by the Druids?”

“Really?” This made her feel a little apprehensive since Druids were supposedly pagan. “What did they do with it?”

“It helps to promote psychic abilities.” He handed her the sprig and she took it. “Put it under your pillow for it to work. It’ll bring about sweet dreams.”

“Oh. Thank ye,” she said, opening her pouch and carefully placing it inside. “What about internal problems. Do ye have anythin’ that will cure that?”

“Phoebe, do you want to tell me your real reason for asking these questions?”

“What do ye mean? I’m just curious and want to learn,” she said, not able to look at him or he’d know she was lying. She only hoped he didn’t have psychic abilities or he might be able to read her mind.

“To answer your question, yes there is an herb that will heal internal problems.”

“Do ye have some?” she asked anxiously. “Can I see it?”

He pulled down a nearly empty jar. On the parchment that was tied around it, were written the words Hart’s Tongue. There was one small dried plant inside.

“There is only one left,” she said, bewildered as to why it wasn’t replenished.

“That’s right,” he said. “Hart’s Tongue can be used for internal problems. The leaves can also be made into an ointment for burns and scalds. It is very rare and hard to find, even though it grew abundantly in the hills hundreds of years ago.”

“I see,” she said, feeling heart-fallen. “Then I willna be able to find any on my own.”

“Take this,” he said, opening the jar and handing the dried herb to her.

“But . . . it’s all ye have left.”

“I have a feeling you know someone who needs it. But I will tell you that it will not work correctly unless combined with Common Centaury.”

“Common?” she asked. “Oh, guid, then that should be easy to find.”

“Not so,” he said with a shake of his head. “The only place these herbs are found today are on the Isle of Kerrera.”

“Isle of Kerrera? Where is that? Is it far?” she asked, feeling as if her good luck had just run out.

“It is a short boat ride from the MacKeefe camp that is in the Highlands near Oban.”

“Really,” she said, feeling her heart sink since she had no idea how she’d get there without a boat.

“The plants need to be harvested just as they’re blooming.”

“When is that?” she asked.

“It is happening now, for about a fortnight yet.” Orrick pulled out a chair and sat down, nodding for her to do the same. “They need to be made into a tincture as a bitter tonic, and then ingested to cleanse the organs. I’ve used this concoction on people that have been near death and it cured them. I put it in whisky a few times, so the bitter taste was disguised.”

“I see.” She sat down across from him, looking down at the empty jar, feeling as if she were going to cry. Being a prisoner here, she wasn’t even sure she’d be able to escape and get back home before the plant was finished blooming.

“It isn’t impossible,” he told her as if he could read her mind.

“Thank ye. I suppose we’d better see to Hawke now.”

He reached over on the table and picked up a small leather-bound book and handed it to her.

“What is this?” she asked.

“It is my book of potions and tinctures to help heal those in need.”

She flipped open the cover and was surprised to see a drawn picture of an herb. The name and everything it is used for as well as how to prepare it was listed next to it. “This is very informative,” she said in awe, flipping through the book. Page after page was filled with pictures of herbs and writings that told about the plants and even where to find them. She felt honored that the sorcerer would share this with her.