"Really," snapped Vekkos. "Who is the physician?"
"Stop squabbling, or you'll make me worse," grumbled Padway. "What are you going to do to me?"
Vekkos held up a bunch of weeds. "Have these herbs stewed and drink a cupful every three hours. They include a mild purgative, to draw off the black bile through the bowels in case there should be an excess."
"Which is the purgative?" asked Padway.
Vekkos pulled it out. Padway's thin arm shot out and grabbed the weed. "I just want to keep this separate from the rest, if you don't mind."
Vekkos humored him, told him to keep warm and stay in bed, and departed. Nevitta and Hermann went with him.
"Calls himself a physician," grumbled Fritharik, "and never heard of elf-shot."
"Get Julia," said Padway.
When the girl came, she set up a great to-do: "Oh, generous master, whatever is wrong with you? I'll get Father Narcissus—"
"No, you won't," said Padway. He broke off a small part of the purgative weed and handed it to her. "Boil this in a kettle of water, and bring me a cup of the water." He handed her the rest of the bunch of greenery. "And throw these out. Somewhere where the medicine man won't see them."