{"id":496,"date":"2022-05-20T11:53:50","date_gmt":"2022-05-20T09:53:50","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/slickhaven.com\/?p=496"},"modified":"2025-10-17T09:29:19","modified_gmt":"2025-10-17T07:29:19","slug":"story-part-7-the-last-remedy","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/slickhaven.com\/en\/story-part-7-the-last-remedy\/","title":{"rendered":"Story part 7 – The Last Remedy"},"content":{"rendered":"

Salutations. Benji.<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

Benjamin looked at his signature. It seemed foreign, as if the letter was a product of forgery. In writing or in speech, he preferred to introduce himself with his full name and preferably his position as well, and for a moment he wondered if he should add the missing titles. No, Samuel would surely laugh and reproach him for being too formal, and he would do so at every family get-together. He wouldn’t give him a break, but well, that\u2019s older brothers for you.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cLocal or long distance?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The question snapped Benjamin out of his reverie, and the sounds of the tavern immediately returned: laughter, discussion, and of course, the orchestra of corks, bottles, and mugs. The Last Remedy, an inn located on the other side of the main square going from the city gate, was small, but with enough room for every liquor enthusiast. The owner, known locally as the <\/span>Innkeeper<\/b>, was a man with a bushy mustache and barrel-chested stature who often got into chats with the regulars and kept them content. In the current line-up of guests one could notice life-weary lovers of herbal liqueurs, exuberant tasters of sage-infused citrus mixes, and traditionalists reaching for the only proper, in their opinion, amber beverage.<\/span><\/p>\n

Benjamin, with his bowl of stew and a carafe of water did not match any of these groups, but rather the girl who stopped at his table, one of few with vacant chairs. She was holding an identical bowl and a nibbled slab of bread, with which she pointed at the letter questioningly.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMay I join you?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBy all means, please.\u201d Benjamin straightened up and sat down only after the girl took a seat. \u201cAnd the letter, well, it\u2019s a long distance one.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSuch is my rotten luck,\u201d she replied and immediately dug into the stew. \u201cSalina. Friends call me Sal,\u201d\u00a0 she introduced herself between the bites. \u201cI haven’t seen you around here before. Neither here, nor in any other inn.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSal\u2026\u201d the botanist began, but held the word. Manners before prejudice, but it was better to be on his guard. He did not believe in his luck enough to fraternize with a mysterious braided blonde. \u201cMiss Salina, a pleasure to meet you. Benjamin Corvus, the Imperial Botanical Association. Yes, I arrived relatively recently.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe Last Remedy is a safe choice, all newcomers come here,\u201d she stated. \u201cSlickhaven has a lot to offer in that regard, I can in good conscience recommend about five places. The Leaky Boat, oh, it’s the first tavern that was built in town, a favorite spot for sailors and busy merchants.\u201d She looked Benjamin in the eyes. \u201cYou don\u2019t look much for a sailor, or being busy. Hmm. The Drowsy Blackbird below the castle might appeal to you. They have a tradition of throwing rose petals at newcomers to make their stay in the city favorable. The decor isn’t bad either, imported furniture, elegantly decorated….\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI’ll add it to the list. Forgive me for asking, but why were you interested in my correspondence?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI am a courier,\u201d she answered without much enthusiasm. \u201cThere\u2019s always room for new clients, though unfortunately in this case I won’t help, because I operate only locally. We have a lot of twisted and narrow streets here and not everyone wants to keep walking back and forth. The reverend bishop, for example, is already old but sends letters at least once a week.\u201d She shrugged and cleaned the bowl with the remaining piece of bread. \u201cA job like any other. And you’re a… botanist, if I caught that right?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Benjamin recounted briefly the purpose of his visit, not for the first time and probably not for the last. Talking about himself never tired him, and the quantity of questions from Slickhaven residents was going to be a solid indicator of whether his practice was gaining publicity. Recognition for today: zero, but at least Salina seemed interested in his profession.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSo you’re a big walking encyclopedia of all things green?\u201d she laughed. \u201cYou look at a flower and you know everything about it? Alright, Mr. Benjamin. Let’s test your skill.\u201d Salina leaned back in her chair while her gaze stopped on considerable pots filled with soil, placed on both sides of the entrance, with long, sharp stalks sticking out of them. \u201cThere, by the door. What kind of weed is that?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt doesn’t work like that….\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat kind of weed is that!\u201d Salina repeated.<\/span><\/p>\n

Benjamin did not have the strength to protest. He glanced briefly at the pots.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cVetiver, or <\/span>chrysopogon zizanioides<\/span><\/i>, if you prefer. The roots yield a fragrant oil, while the green part of the plant is used as fodder. It\u2019s remarkable that it grows here of all places. It’s a tropical plant… though I’ve seen your lemons, too. Big ones.\u201d He snapped his fingers. \u201cOh, vetiver is a grass, not a weed. For future reference.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWell, let’s say I believe you.\u201d Salina took a sip of water and, rising up to leave the table, set the cup down. \u201cListen, if you’re looking for cases of overgrown celery or cucumbers, I heartily recommend a visit beyond the walls. The farms between the city and the forest are full of different crops. They don’t impress us anymore, but they might interest you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSounds like a great place to start my research!\u201d Benjamin said in glee. \u201cCan you tell me exactly where to go? Who to ask for, who to visit?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Salina shook her head.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cEven if I told you, no one would let you in their house. But the good news is that I have a package to deliver tomorrow in that area. People know me, I’ll tell them you just want to hang around and… sketch leaves or something. Maybe then they won’t sic dogs on you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cUnbelievable. Is there that much distrust in science around here?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIn science, no. In the folk looking at a weed and calling it chrysopogon-somethingone, yes.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201c<\/span>Chrysopogon zizanioides<\/span><\/i>,” Benjamin corrected her, to which the girl snorted with amusement. \u201cI’ll be grateful for any help. If the farm cases prove intriguing, I promise your name will come up in a footnote to my report once I publish it.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI’m worth a footnote, huh? Wow. Lucky me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cExcuse me, was that sarcasm?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhy, I\u2019d never.\u201d Salina rolled her eyes. \u201cTomorrow at the main gate. I’ll be waiting five minutes after the first bells.\u201d She straightened up, put on a wide-hooded cloak, and made a graceful imitation of a courtly bow. \u201cIt was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Botanist. I hope your letter reaches its addressee without any trouble.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe pleasure was all mine.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Benjamin said his goodbyes and less than a quarter of an hour later he left the inn himself. In spirit, he patted himself on the back for the idea to visit. The Last Remedy was well stocked and reasonably priced, and the owner didn’t seem to have diluted anything. Plus this whole Salina turned out to not be a charlatan as he had originally assumed, and she could even prove useful.<\/span><\/p>\n

But that was tomorrow’s matter, for now he still had work to do. After all, the first thing he\u2019d done upon entering the inn was carefully inspecting the vetiver pots and taking samples for his first Slickhaven herbarium entry.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Salutations. Benji. Benjamin looked at his signature. It seemed foreign, as if the letter was a product of forgery. In writing or in speech, he preferred to introduce himself with his full name and preferably his position as well, and for a moment he wondered if he should add the missing titles. No, Samuel would […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":494,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[164],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-496","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-story"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nStory part 7 - The Last Remedy - Slickhaven<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/slickhaven.com\/en\/story-part-7-the-last-remedy\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Story part 7 - The Last Remedy - Slickhaven\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Salutations. Benji. Benjamin looked at his signature. It seemed foreign, as if the letter was a product of forgery. In writing or in speech, he preferred to introduce himself with his full name and preferably his position as well, and for a moment he wondered if he should add the missing titles. 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