ailments in the first place rather than
to attempt a cure after the damage has been done."
"I do not disagree with that principle." Hugh looked at her. "What happened to your mother?"
A shadow flickered across Alice's face. "She died three years ago."
"My condolences."
Alice heaved a small sigh. "She had just received a shipment of strange and unusual herbs.
She was very eager to conduct experiments with them."
"Experiments?"
"Aye, she was forever concocting potions. In any event, she mixed some of the new herbs in
a recipe she had recently discovered. It was supposed to be good for treating those who
suffered from serious pains of the stomach and bowel. She accidentally drank too much of the
concoction. It killed her."
A cold feeling seized Hugh's gut. "Your mother took poison?"
"It was an accident," Alice said hastily, obviously alarmed at his conclusion. "I told you, she
was performing an experiment at the time."
"She experimented upon herself?" he asked, incredulous.
"She frequently tried new medicines on herself before she gave them to the sick."
"My own mother died in much the same manner," Hugh heard himself say before he stopped
to consider the wisdom of imparting such a confidence. "She drank poison."
Alice's lovely eyes filled with quiet sympathy. "I am very sorry, my lord. Was your mother a
student of strange herbs and such?"
"Nay." Hugh tossed aside the reddish stone, angry at his lack of discretion. He never
discussed his mother's suicide or the fact that she had deliberately administered the lethal
poison to his father before drinking it herself. " 'Tis a long story that I do not care to repeat."
"Aye, my lord. Such matters can be very painful."
Her sympathy irritated him. He was unaccustomed to such sentiment and he had no wish to
encourage it. Sympathy implied weakness. "You misunderstood me, lady. When I said that I
was the victim of a curse, I was not referring to an illness of the body."
She gave him a quizzical look. "Surely you do not mean a magical curse?"
"Aye."
"But that is utter nonsense," Alice scoffed. "By the Saints, I have no patience with those who
believe in magic and curses."
"Nor do I."
Alice seemed not to have heard him. She was already setting sail on a new course. "Mark me,
I am well aware that it is quite the thing for learned men to travel to Toledo these days in
search of ancient secrets of magic, but I'm certain that they waste their time. There is no such
thing as magic."
"I happen to agree with you about the foolishness of magic," Hugh said. "But I am a practical
man."
"So?"
"So, in this instance I have concluded that the quickest way to achieve my own ends is to
comply with the requirements of an old legend, which is, in part, a curse."
"A legend?"
"Aye." Hugh picked up a bit of clouded pink crystal and held it up to the light. "The good
people of Scarcliffe have endured a variety of masters during recent years. None of them
have endeared themselves to the local folk. And none of them have lasted long."
"You intend to be the exception, I take it?"
"Aye, lady." Hugh set the pink crystal down, leaned back against the table, and rested one
hand on the hilt of his sword. "Scarcliffe is mine and I will hold fast to it while there is breath
in my body."
She searched his face. "I do not doubt your intention, my lord. What, exactly, are the
stipulations of this legend?"
" 'Tis said that the true lord of Scarcliffe must accomplish two things. First, he must guard the
last remaining stone of an ancient treasure. Second, he must discover the location of the rest
of the Stones of Scarcliffe."
Alice blinked. "The green crystal is truly valuable then?"
Hugh shrugged. "It is in the eyes of my people. They believe that it is part of what was once a
large collection of priceless gems. All but the green stone disappeared a long time ago. The
local convent has had the care of the crystal in recent years. But it disappeared a
to attempt a cure after the damage has been done."
"I do not disagree with that principle." Hugh looked at her. "What happened to your mother?"
A shadow flickered across Alice's face. "She died three years ago."
"My condolences."
Alice heaved a small sigh. "She had just received a shipment of strange and unusual herbs.
She was very eager to conduct experiments with them."
"Experiments?"
"Aye, she was forever concocting potions. In any event, she mixed some of the new herbs in
a recipe she had recently discovered. It was supposed to be good for treating those who
suffered from serious pains of the stomach and bowel. She accidentally drank too much of the
concoction. It killed her."
A cold feeling seized Hugh's gut. "Your mother took poison?"
"It was an accident," Alice said hastily, obviously alarmed at his conclusion. "I told you, she
was performing an experiment at the time."
"She experimented upon herself?" he asked, incredulous.
"She frequently tried new medicines on herself before she gave them to the sick."
"My own mother died in much the same manner," Hugh heard himself say before he stopped
to consider the wisdom of imparting such a confidence. "She drank poison."
Alice's lovely eyes filled with quiet sympathy. "I am very sorry, my lord. Was your mother a
student of strange herbs and such?"
"Nay." Hugh tossed aside the reddish stone, angry at his lack of discretion. He never
discussed his mother's suicide or the fact that she had deliberately administered the lethal
poison to his father before drinking it herself. " 'Tis a long story that I do not care to repeat."
"Aye, my lord. Such matters can be very painful."
Her sympathy irritated him. He was unaccustomed to such sentiment and he had no wish to
encourage it. Sympathy implied weakness. "You misunderstood me, lady. When I said that I
was the victim of a curse, I was not referring to an illness of the body."
She gave him a quizzical look. "Surely you do not mean a magical curse?"
"Aye."
"But that is utter nonsense," Alice scoffed. "By the Saints, I have no patience with those who
believe in magic and curses."
"Nor do I."
Alice seemed not to have heard him. She was already setting sail on a new course. "Mark me,
I am well aware that it is quite the thing for learned men to travel to Toledo these days in
search of ancient secrets of magic, but I'm certain that they waste their time. There is no such
thing as magic."
"I happen to agree with you about the foolishness of magic," Hugh said. "But I am a practical
man."
"So?"
"So, in this instance I have concluded that the quickest way to achieve my own ends is to
comply with the requirements of an old legend, which is, in part, a curse."
"A legend?"
"Aye." Hugh picked up a bit of clouded pink crystal and held it up to the light. "The good
people of Scarcliffe have endured a variety of masters during recent years. None of them
have endeared themselves to the local folk. And none of them have lasted long."
"You intend to be the exception, I take it?"
"Aye, lady." Hugh set the pink crystal down, leaned back against the table, and rested one
hand on the hilt of his sword. "Scarcliffe is mine and I will hold fast to it while there is breath
in my body."
She searched his face. "I do not doubt your intention, my lord. What, exactly, are the
stipulations of this legend?"
" 'Tis said that the true lord of Scarcliffe must accomplish two things. First, he must guard the
last remaining stone of an ancient treasure. Second, he must discover the location of the rest
of the Stones of Scarcliffe."
Alice blinked. "The green crystal is truly valuable then?"
Hugh shrugged. "It is in the eyes of my people. They believe that it is part of what was once a
large collection of priceless gems. All but the green stone disappeared a long time ago. The
local convent has had the care of the crystal in recent years. But it disappeared a
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