Poisonous Potion

"Stableman, take the mules away. You lot, help old Butler Budd into the hall to rest." A soft, sultry voice rang out. Kate had somehow appeared behind Roger and rescued him from the awkward situation.

"Young Master Roger, come with me..."

Just as Roger was about to thank her, Kate whispered something in his ear, then turned and lightly ascended to the second floor.

Roger hesitated for a moment before slowly following her.

After turning two corners on the second floor, they arrived at the innermost bedroom.

Roger pushed open the door and followed Kate inside, unable to resist looking around.

This room was fresher than any lord's chamber in his hazy memories, and its furnishings were more refined as well. Tapestries hung on the walls, fur rugs covered the floor, and embroidered bed curtains surrounded the bed.

Before a chair resembling a throne stood an exquisitely crafted dressing table and a round bronze mirror. Above the mirror, a window set with colored glass gleamed in a riot of hues.

Not a speck of dust could be found in the room, which carried a faint fragrance.

In this era where foul stench blanketed every place, it was like a clear stream flowing through filth.

Roger only stood near the doorway and did not venture any farther inside.

Kate saw through Roger's wariness and teased, "Is Young Master Roger, who commits every evil under heaven, afraid that I'll eat you?"

Roger hesitated briefly, then stepped inside.

Kate walked to the dressing table beside the bed, took a wooden box from its lowest drawer, gently opened it, and removed a small object. Pinching it between her fingers, she turned and walked over to Roger.

"This may be useful to you." As she spoke, she took Roger's hand and placed a thumb-sized oval ceramic vial in his palm.

Roger picked up the little ceramic bottle and examined it closely twice. Though its surface bore some scattered floral patterns, it was nothing more than the most ordinary little trinket.

"What is inside?"

"Countless human lives." Kate's tone carried a trace of sorrow.

Roger did not understand. He pulled out the stopper and raised it, preparing to smell it.

"Short-leaved Yew sap." Kate's quiet words frightened Roger into hurriedly plugging the bottle again.

Short-leaved Yew was also called European yew. Every part of the plant except its fruit was highly poisonous, especially its bark and leaves.

During Roger's smuggling days in Northern Europe, he had once seen a young man at a hospital who had mistakenly brewed Short-leaved Yew into tea. In less than an hour, the man began hallucinating; three hours later, he had already fallen into a deep coma.

When the young man was brought to the hospital, cold sweat covered his body, while his face, neck, and entire chest had turned deep blue. After struggling painfully for four hours, he finally died.

"How did you get this..." Roger suddenly shut his mouth, for he remembered that even in later generations, some ignorant girls who accidentally became pregnant would consume products made from this plant. Quite a few had lost their lives because of it.

"How much do you want this time?" Roger assumed it was another transaction.

"Halfpenny." Kate smiled faintly, gently pushed Roger out, and closed the door.

Roger increasingly felt that Kate of the Red Mill was far from as simple as she appeared.

But with life and death hanging in the balance, he had no energy to investigate further.

After leaving Kate's room and returning to the first-floor hall, Roger found several servants and maids gathered around Bitter Melon Face, quietly consoling him.

Bitter Melon Face had already vented his emotions and no longer cried. He merely sat blankly on a low stool near the door.

Ponytail, who was standing nearby with his arms folded and enjoying the spectacle, spotted Roger coming downstairs and hurried over. "Young Master Roger, what happened?"

Roger shifted a few steps toward an empty spot, and Ponytail followed him.

"I got the poison." Roger spread open his right hand.

Ponytail glanced at the thumb-sized ceramic vial, disappointment on his face. "Only this much? There are more than a dozen pirates."

"This is a deadly poison. This little bit can wipe out everyone in the entire market town."

Ponytail's eyes widened as he carefully accepted the vial.

"Hide it well. If I were a pirate, I'd definitely search you."

Ponytail nodded. "I have a way."

"Good. Find a chance to slip away by yourself later. Remember the details of the plan."

"Spread false information, drive a wedge between the pirates, poison their dinner, set fire when the poison takes effect. I remember it all." Ponytail clenched the vial in his hand and repeated the plan in a low voice.

Roger nodded slightly and walked toward Bitter Melon Face.

Ponytail looked around. Seeing that no one was paying attention to him, he silently slipped into the stable.

He stuffed his wool cloak and tall riding boots, along with the bundle of silver coins and small dagger wrapped in rotten cloth, into a hole beneath the trough.

He then dug out the two broken open-toed shoes he had discarded yesterday from a pile of dung in the stable. Without caring about the animal excrement and urine on them, he slipped them directly onto his feet, then followed the base of the wall and left the market town, leaving hoof-dung prints all the way.

No one in the Red Mill noticed Ponytail's disappearance. At that moment, Roger was sitting beside a square table, trying to persuade Bitter Melon Face.

"...Since I said I have a way, then I definitely have a way. Hurry back now and take good care of Madam and Young Master Louis." Roger's patience was nearly exhausted, yet Bitter Melon Face stubbornly insisted on staying behind to die with them.

Closing his eyes, Roger suppressed the fire in his heart, then raised his voice. "Since you insist on staying, then do something for me. Don't be a useless cripple waiting to die."

Only then did Bitter Melon Face raise his head.

"At noon today, many islanders will come to Brodick to enlist in the defense of the town. I've announced that everyone who comes will get a free lunch."

"I'm leaving this matter to you. Before noon, prepare enough food to feed one or two hundred people." Roger decided to assign the task of providing free lunch to Butler Bitter Melon Face. Originally, he had intended to hire the "Halfpenny" girl at the Red Mill for high pay to handle it.

"Ah! Why should we let them eat for free? Where am I supposed to get food for hundreds of people? And how much will this cost?" Bitter Melon Face now felt that his young master was both mad and foolish.

Roger glanced at the Red Mill's kitchen. Daily spending here was too extravagant, and its guests did not come merely to fill their bellies. Though the kitchen's usual fare was fairly delicate and tasty, its stocked ingredients could hardly feed a hundred people.

Roger pondered for a moment, then his mind flashed with inspiration.

"Use the whole town. One-Eye's eatery beneath the broken wall at the town entrance has large pots, and he often makes cheap food. Pay him to come over, bringing his cooking equipment and assistants with him."

"If there still aren't enough hands or utensils, hire people from the Red Mill."

"Yesterday was the Wool Market. The town bakery must have baked plenty of bread. Buy it all. If it isn't enough, have them bake more immediately.

"And the remaining bones and offal from the butcher's, along with the leftover meat from yesterday at the Red Mill—buy all of it and stew several pots of mixed-meat soup."

As Bitter Melon Face listened to Roger's orderly arrangements, his eyes gradually widened.

Just as he was about to question him, Roger seemingly pulled two glittering gold coins from his sleeve like magic and slapped them into Bitter Melon Face's hand.

Before Bitter Melon Face could speak, Roger turned and took Halfpenny's hand. "Darling, you know Brodick best. Please help my butler complete these tasks."

As he spoke, a silver penny was already resting in the girl's palm.

Halfpenny held the still-warm silver coin in her hand. Her cheeks had already flushed scarlet, and the little black mole at the corner of her lifted lips seemed to dance playfully.

"Old man, before noon, the whole of Brodick must be filled with the scent of food..." Before Roger had even finished speaking, he had already stepped out of the Red Mill's doors and headed toward Brodick Castle north of the market town.

"Butler Budd, should we hire people first or buy ingredients first?" Halfpenny asked, standing beside Bitter Melon Face.