The Daughter Of Stones

Chapter Five. Gambling Debt Is A Matter Of Honor

"Water," a weak voice came from Brienne's back. Bal couldn't ride a horse on his own, and she had to tie him to her seat.

"You've already chugged a gallon. That was all we had!" said Brienne nervously, holding tight as the horse gained more speed. She attempted a joke to ease the grim situation, "Stop whining, be a man."

"Easy for you to say - you weren't cursed with a deathwish," Bal mumbled, barely able to move his lips. It's only been a couple of hours since the curse was laid upon him, but he already looked like a shell of a man - black bags under his eyes, sickly greenish skin, and dry, chapped lips.

"There!" Brienne smiled, pointing at the horizon.

At the outskirts of a forest stood a small clay hut with a flat wooden roof. A tiny garden in the front yard was surrounded by old cauldrons, cast-iron kettles, and pans, resembling a scrapyard rather than a household.

Brienne pulled the reins, and clouds of gravel and dust rose into the air from under the horse's hooves.

"Good girl," Brienne patted the heavy-breathing creature and got down. She untied Bal and picked him up, carefully putting his feet on the ground. He was too weak to walk, so Brienne mostly dragged him, hand wrapped around the waist.

Three heavy knocks almost tore the flimsy door apart.

"Muddy, open up!" Brienne barked, lifting her free hand to knock one more time. The door opened seconds before her fist fell on it. A head with unkempt brown hair peeked out of it.

"What is it?" He said, seemingly unhappy about the unannounced guests. Brienne walked into the hut despite the door being only half open. Inside it was filled with dry leaves, wooden boxes, and empty dirty plates with rotting leftovers. The only relatively clean spot was a stove the alchemist used to boil potions. Muddy, the alchemist himself, complemented his dwelling, wearing a stained brown nightgown.

"What are you doing here in the middle of the night?" he said, demanding an explanation. But after Brienne threw a particularly angry glance at him, he swallowed and ran to Bal. "My, oh my. Looks bad."

"It's a deathwish curse," explained Brienne. "Some calajad did it. Can you fix him?"

Muddy put semi-conscious Bal into a chair and examined his yellow whites.

"I gave you a potion for that!" he exclaimed, but Bal couldn't talk anymore, fainting. "How long was he exposed to the curse?"

"I don't know. Six hours or so," said Brienne, shrugging. Muddy threw his hands into the air and grabbed his greasy beard.

"Six hours! Oh, help me, five gods. One hour is long enough to kill a man. Six hours!" he kept wailing, running around the hut and grabbing ingredients on the go. He picked a little yellow raisin-like berry from a vase on the table and placed it into Bal's mouth. "Chew!"

Bal's jaw began moving slowly and barely noticeably. After the first bite, he felt the little berry explode with a waterfall, producing a constant, endless flow of sweet nectar down his throat. Soon, Bal felt a little better.

Muddy ran up to Brienne and handed her a mortar with some leaves and fruit peels inside.

"Pound it! Don't break, or you're paying," he said, jumping to another corner. Soon a pan was boiling on the stove, and thick blue steam began to cloud the ceiling. The Alchemist picked up the pot, poured the liquid into a cup, and ran to Bal.

"Pick him up, quick!" he commanded Brienne, and she gently straightened Bal, holding him under the armpits. Muddy opened Bal's mouth and poured some of the potion in.