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“I believe he's been poisoned,” the doctor said. He was a tall, skinny goblin with a dour face and improbably long ears.

Julep silently agreed with the doctor. She's seen this before. She didn't want to steal his thunder though, so she kept it to herself to see if he knew the cause. No one liked a know-it-all.

“Do you know what it is?” Artur asked.

“I'm not sure...although it's obviously not arsenic or any of the more common poisons.”

Good enough. The doctor had given his opinion.

“It's bleeding mushroom,” Julep said briskly.

The tension was making her crabby. She liked Rooster.

He was funny and he brought her small presents like interesting rocks or sticks that he claimed were medicinal.

It was a running joke. “It will eventually crack his lips and he'll start to bleed. He needs some blue fern juice.”

The doctor curled his lip, revealing big yellow teeth. “And you know this how?”

“Because people are stupid and occasionally eat the pretty mushrooms in my old neighborhood. Everyone around there knew about fern juice to counteract it. There's even a childhood rhyme about it.”

“If even children knew about it, how did they get poisoned so often?” the goblin doctor snipped. No doubt he was sore about being uneducated about the mushroom.

Julep gave him an annoyed look. “It was usually new arrivals or people passing through. It’s a common mushroom, white with red gills, and it smells delicious. Even when you know not to mess with unknown mushrooms, it's tempting.

“But you don't seem to recognize it, so I'm thinking maybe it doesn't grow here?”

“Never heard of it,” the doctor grumbled.

She nodded. “I don't suppose you know of anything similar to blue fern? Unless that grows around here? I'm not familiar with the local plants.”

The doctor flicked his nails absent-mindedly, thinking. “It's not a common remedy here...”

Julep clamped her mouth shut to keep from commenting on the nail clicking. It was a horrible sound and grated on her nerves.

Artur spoke up. “I'll send someone to look into it. Where will we find the fern if that fails, Julep? I assume you could find it in your old neighborhood?”

“I could,” she said slowly. “It's spring, so the ferns will be unfurling. The locals might even have a stash already made. The fern juice is used for several ailments.

“The main thing is that it's three days to my village by sheep cart. He's going to be in a lot of danger if he has to wait two days.”

“A battle ram could make it in one. If we load Rooster into a light carriage with a fast team, he'll be that much closer to receiving the remedy.”

“I never learned to ride a battle ram,” she said cautiously. The big sheep had curled horns and could carry a man in armor into battle. They could also batter down doors and required special fencing and stone stables. Her village hadn't even had one.

“Not a problem, you can ride with me.” Artur called the servant and issued orders, and then told her to dress warm and to pack only the essentials.

The messenger confirmed that there was no blue fern to be had, so Julep found herself on the back of a battle ram for the first time in her life.

She clung to Artur, a little afraid she would fall off the massive beast. She was also thrilled at the speed.

Clods of dirt flew from cloven hooves as the great beast galloped on the open road, flanked by their escort.

She wondered if Artur would teach her how to ride. She would love the convenience, and it was a lot faster than walking.

The beasts couldn't run all the time of course, so they mostly walked fast. They had a nice gait, and it was surprisingly comfortable.

She was a little less thrilled with it as the day wore on and she developed saddle sores. It didn’t help when she slid out of the saddle, and her legs tried to buckle. Clearly, she would need to work up to long rides.

Fortunately, Artur wasn't bothered by the ride at all. He steadied her, and kept a look out while she used the bushes.

“How are you doing?” he asked kindly as he prepared to help her mount. “You've done well.”

“I'll manage,” she affirmed, ignoring her angry muscles. Getting the medicine was more important than some trivial pain. “It's actually fun, in its way. I think I'd like to learn how to ride.”

He grinned. “We'll get you a mount of your own when we get home. A nice calm ewe. Before you know it, we'll have you riding like you were born to it.”

He helped her up and then swung into the saddle. “I have just the ewe in mind. She has fantastic gaits and an excellent bloodline...”

Julep let her mind wander after a bit. She didn't understand all the terminology, but it was obvious she'd found one of Artur's passions. She liked his enthusiasm and looked forward to spending time with him.

When did that happen? How strange that goblins had become such a large part of her life. It wasn't that long ago that she'd been a simple village herbalist, content with her life. Goblins had gone from something to be wary of, to people she was concerned about.

How ironic that she had fled one goblin only to end up with another one, but in such very different circumstances.

??

By the time they neared the village it was almost dawn, and Julep was exhausted. She was looking forward to a hot fire and a chair. She was hungry too, and fantasizing about hot bread and tea. The local bakery had added a tea room, and they made the best sandwiches.

Even though they were in a hurry, she looked forward to waving to her former neighbors. It was a gloomy day, but everyone here kept country hours. They would be up and about.

Unfortunately, the village of her memories was gone. A large wooden palisade surrounded the village, its pointy tops stabbing at the rising sun. Although herds were visible in the distance, the heavy wooden gates were closed.

“What happened here?” She stared at it, dumbfounded. If she didn't know better, she'd swear that they'd come to the wrong place.

A head popped over the wall. “Who goes there?”

Julep squinted. “Is that you, Bart? It's me, Julep!” Bart was a farmer, with a knack for brewing. He supplied the locals with a lot of excellent beer.

“Julep!” Bart exploded. “You've got a lot of nerve, showing your face around here. Get out of here! Git now!”

“But...!” She started to protest.

Another head poked up “Did you say, ‘Julep’?” It was another farmer's son, Clyde. He was a mild mannered fellow, and his father had the best orchards around. She liked Clyde. They'd gone to school together.

He saw her and his face turned ugly. “Get out of here! We don't want you here.”

“But why? What did I do?” she cried. These people had been her neighbors. They'd never had a problem with her before.

A rock flew out of the village. Artur raised his arm and deflected it before it could hit her face. Another flew out and hit her in the calf. It grazed the battle ram and it bolted. Artur reined it in at the edge of the forest.

“I don't understand,” Julep said, longing to go back and explain herself. It had to be a misunderstanding.

Artur stared at the village, his eyes narrowed. “Worry about it later. Let's find this plant.”

There was a big batch of blue fern nearby, and it was easy to spot.

Big stalks with spiral curls at the tip stood as tall as a man's chest. The ferns were dark blue.

White mushrooms gathered in clumps under the ferns, their gills an attractive red color.

A delicious scent wafted off them, making her suddenly hungry.

“These must be the poison mushrooms. I see what you mean about the smell.”

“Right,” Julep said, dismounting and gathering her sack.

“Bleeding mushroom is only a menace if you don't know its tricks.” She pointed at the blue fern.

“But like many poisons, the antidote often grows near it.” She addressed the helpers that have been designated while the rest of the goblins kept watch.

“Stuff your bags with as much as you can and pack it tight.”

Artur gestured at one of the helpers. “Collect a bag full of the mushrooms, and several of the ferns with roots as well. We'll take it back to the pharmacist.”

“Good idea! I want some for my garden, too,” Julep said.

She started cutting and stuffing ferns as quickly as she could.

She didn't want to linger. The scene with the villagers had been horrible and confusing.

She had a suspicion that the goblin who had come after her might have come back for revenge.

If he had attacked the village, the people might blame her for it, especially if he had been asking about her.

It was the only thing she could think of to explain the hostility. She wanted to go back and explain, to fix things, but she doubted there was anything she could say to make it better. That bridge was burned. It made her sad.

They'd only been working for a couple of minutes before there was a rustle in the bushes. Julep froze, imagining wild beasts.

The guards sprang into action. There was a brief scuffle before they dragged a young woman out of the bushes.

In her late teens, the girl's brown hair was messy, her face and clothes stained with streaks of blue.

Some of the streaks were faded, products of days gone by. She'd clearly been harvesting all week.

She looked at Julep wild eyed. “I didn't do anything! I was just gathering blue fern.”

“I see that,” Julep said. “Are you selling it in the village?”

“I trade,” the girl said, a little wildly. “I-I don't have any money on me now.”

Julep smiled slightly. “We're not bandits. No one's going to rob you.”

Artur snorted. There were a few smothered laughs.

“Who are you?" Julep asked. “I don't recognize you from the village. I used to live there.”

“I'm not from there. At least, I didn't used to be. A goblin wrecked my village. I'm the only one left.” She stared at the forest floor.

Artur's eyes narrowed. “Would this be the same goblin that made this village put up walls?”