The Plague Tales

by Ann Benson

  “Here, let me try.” She took the bowl and spoon from his hands and sat down in the chair in his stead.

  “Come on, Caroline …” she said. “Open up wide for me.” But the stimulus, so effective in getting babies to eat, failed to elicit the desired response in an adult. Caroline remained closed lipped.

  “Maybe Sarin’s got a funnel,” Bruce said. “I’ll go look.”

  He came back from the main room empty handed. “I couldn’t find one. We’re going to have to wake him.”

  Janie nodded. She knew they couldn’t wait any longer.

  He gently placed his hand on Sarin’s shoulder and was about to shake him, but as soon as his fingers made contact with the old man’s body, Bruce knew that the spark had left it. The old man was still warm, but the energy, the life force, the being, was no longer there. Only the body remained. He took his hand away slowly.

  “Janie,” he said softly, “he’s gone.”

  She got up from Caroline’s bedside and came to where Bruce stood. Placing her fingers on the old man’s wrist she searched unsuccessfully for a pulse. “Now we’re really on our own,” she said.

  They stood over the old man in a momentary wake. “He deserves more than this,” Janie said, “but right now …”

  “I know,” Bruce said. “We need to get on with it, here. I still need a funnel.”

  Another quick search of the kitchen failed to produce one, or anything that might be substituted for it. Then Janie offered another possibility. “We can make a funnel out of paper. I used to do that to decorate cakes when I was a little girl. We can close up the funnel and squeeze it like a pastry tube.”

  But the slurry was too loose and leaked from the paper funnel almost immediately.

  Suddenly Bruce said, “Damn! Why didn’t I think of this before!”

  “What?”

  “There’s a drip tube for condensation on the air conditioning in the car. We can intubate her and let this stuff drip into her stomach.”

  He was up like a flash and out the door before Janie could say anything.

  He ran down the path past the oaks and on toward his car. As he neared the vehicle, something in the distance caught his attention. He stopped running and looked off across the field.

  Battling the wind between the trees, he ran back inside and called out to Janie, who was sponging Caroline’s forehead. She looked up and saw him gesturing for her to follow him. She stopped what she was doing and they went outside together.

  “Oh, no!” she said when she saw the Biocops in the distance. “How did they find us? How do they even know?”

  “I don’t have a clue,” he answered, “but I think we’d better take Caroline and get out of here.”

  “Where are we going to go?”

  “We’ll have to go to my apartment. I just hope there’s no one there waiting for us.”

  “What about Ted?”

  “We’ll leave him here with Sarin and the dog. Janie, we have to burn this place. It’s going to be infectious anyway.”

  She looked at him gravely, wondering if it would all ever end. “All right,” she said, “let’s do it.”

  Thirty-One

  As she stood weeping near the window in Isabella’s bedchamber, Nurse began to hear the sounds of merriment drifting up from the courtyard. Wiping her eyes, she looked out the window to investigate. Below she saw a stream of knights and ladies pouring out into the torchlit darkness of the courtyard. She heard their bawdy laughter, and the clap of wooden heels on the stones, observed the drunken weaving and the stolen kisses. The clamor of innocent joviality rising up from below seemed almost profane to her in its disruption of the quiet sadness of the death room.

  Then she saw the king and queen, bidding goodnight to their guests, until the next day’s tournament. The Black Prince was by the king’s side, but Isabella was nowhere to be seen in the crowd. “Oh, dear God in heaven!” she gasped, her hand going to her mouth. She rushed back to the bedside, where Alejandro and Kate still sat consoling each other. Tapping the physician’s shoulder with great urgency, she said, “The festivities have ended! The princess will return soon, I fear!”

  No sooner had the words passed her lips than the door to the bedchamber flew open, and the still gloriously attired Isabella rushed into the room. She gasped in shock when she surveyed the scene before her. Without a word she turned and closed the door that separated the chamber from the anteroom. Then she turned back again, and slowly approached the bed, her footsteps barely audible, her hands clasped tightly together in fear.

  Adele lay there, the bedclothes twisted and flung about, her diminutive size made more conspicuous by the huge bed. Her copper hair was damp and matted against the pillow, her shift clinging to her thin body, and all of her gentle spirit gone, flown, vanished. As Isabella approached the pale remains, her eyes filled with tears and she said, “Oh, my dear friend, you have been robbed of your beauty.… I can no longer perceive the warmth of your soul … how I curse myself for the cynical and undeserved repudiation you have gotten from me … oh, what have I done to you?” She began to cry, and soon her wrenching sobs were nearly convulsive. She clutched her arms about herself tightly and began the keening wail of grief.

  She must not alert the kings guards until I have had time to think of what to do! Alejandro thought desperately. He set Kate gently down at his side, then stood up and said, “Princess, please listen to me, you must stop your wailing—it will do her no good now.…” She began to sway, and he reached out, thinking to steady her.

  To his astonishment, no sooner had his hand touched her than she fell into his arms, pressing herself against him, her pitiful sobs racking against his chest.

  “Oh, what am I to do, what am I to do? She is gone, my dearest friend, my sweet companion! I had thought to make things right with her, but I am cruelly robbed of the opportunity. Oh, why did you not save her?”

  “Princess,” he said, pleading with her, “you must calm yourself, you will injure your own health.… I did everything there was to be done.…”

  “But it was not enough! Oh, my dear friend, gone … it cannot be.…”

  She took hold of the front of his shirt and began to wipe the tears from her eyes. Alejandro began to stiffen with alarm as he felt first one button on the travel-worn shirt come loose, and then another, and soon Isabella’s cheek was pressed against the bare skin of his chest. Then to his horror he saw her pull her head away from his chest, and open her eyes; directly in front of them was the telltale arc of red and mottled flesh inflicted on him by the monks in Aragon.

  She caught her breath, and whispering a nearly silent curse, she drew back from him. “I have seen such scars before, in paintings …” she said. Her eyes wide, she pulled herself free of his comforting embrace and backed away from him slowly. Her voice trembled as she pointed at his chest and said, “Is this the mark of a Jew on your flesh?”

  He stood motionless, the shirt open, his deceit finally exposed, the icy blood of fear rendering him speechless.

  “Your silence speaks to condemn you,” Isabella said, her anger rising. “I begin to understand why my hackles have always risen in your presence! Oh, how could I have not seen this? You are a master of deceit, Physician, a talented thespian, and by your craft and cunning you have weaseled your way into my father’s confidence. But your true self is uncovered now, and you can no longer cloak yourself in gentility! You are nothing but a despicable Jew,” she hissed through her teeth, “and you have entered my household, and eaten at my father’s table, and touched things that I myself have touched.…” She looked at her own hands and shook them as if to fling off his essence where she had touched him, then wiped them on her skirts. “You have ravaged my cherished companion; you have stolen her loyalty from me, and misused her heart! You have ruined her and, with her, a part of me! I swear on my future children that I shall haunt you for all of your days for this! Your deceit shall be your ruin, too, and on my oath, you shall suffer!” She picked up her vol
uminous skirts and ran swiftly out of the room, calling for help from anyone who could hear her.

  He looked over at Adele’s body, and tried to remember how it had felt to hold her in his arms, to feel her sweet warm breath on his neck. It seemed a lifetime ago, and as he stood there, he felt utterly disconnected from everything around him. This is not real.… he said to himself. If I reach my hand out to touch the bedpost, there will be only air. Those voices I hear are just part of the same horrible dream, and soon they will stop, leaving me in peace. Adele will rise up, and come to my side, and together we will leave this land to go to someplace where no one knows us, where there is no plague.…

  He was jolted out of his fantasy by an urgent tug on his sleeve.

  “Physician … Physician … you must leave now. My sister will return with guards to arrest you, and you will surely be burned.… Jew or not, you are a good man, and Adele loved you well.… I love you well, too, and I would not lose you.… Physician, please …”

  He looked down and saw Kate’s pleading face looking up at him. “Yes, I must leave,” he said vacantly, “I will leave now.…”

  She tugged harder on his sleeve. “There is no time to waste,” she said desperately, “and you must take me with you.…”

  He came completely out of his stupor and gripped her small shoulders. “Child, you ask the impossible. I know not how I myself will live, let alone how I could provide for a child such as yourself!”

  “Please!” she wailed, begging him. “I will never be welcome in this kingdom again! I shall run away alone if you do not take me!”

  “No, child,” he protested, “you must not—”

  “I will, I swear it!”

  He swallowed hard. It would be difficult enough to escape on his own, but with a small girl, he knew it would be near impossible. “Kate, I have but one horse.”

  “Then I shall ride with you, I am a good rider! Oh, please do not leave me alone to face my father.…”

  Please do not leave me alone. Her words stung him, and he reached out to her. She fell into his embrace. “All right,” he said gently. “I shall not desert you.”

  Nurse tied the hood of Kate’s riding cloak securely under her chin. “I shall call for a litter to remove Lady Adele’s remains,” she said, “and God grant it will serve as a distraction while you escape. But you must run now, and never look back. You have little time.”

  He looked at Kate, and said, “Are you ready, child?”

  The little girl nodded somberly.

  How bravely this child casts herself into the unknown, and at such a tender age, Nurse thought. She hugged the little girl one last time, and kissed her cheek, then, with a sob, pulled away. “Go now,” she said, “and may your God watch over you both.”

  And she herself watched from the window, to be sure of their success. After a few minutes she saw their crouching forms slip out of the shadows, the man pulling the child by the hand as they sneaked across the courtyard to the waiting horse. She saw the physician look into the bag hanging from the saddle, and caught her breath as he mounted the horse and pulled the child up in front of him. She did not release that breath until they were safely out of view, swallowed by the velvety night.

  With the fugitive pair safely gone Nurse turned her attention to what remained. She cleaned up Adele’s soiled bedclothes as best she could to hide the muddy results of Alejandro’s failed efforts, and when the scene was presentable, she pulled a bell cord. A servant appeared moments later.

  “Send immediately for a pallet,” she said, sniffing and dabbing her eyes, “for the Lady Throxwood has expired of womanly troubles, and we must remove her remains before my lady Isabella returns to be shocked by the sight.”

  When the pallet arrived minutes later, she made a great fuss of her sorrow and toiled over the preparation of the body. Just as the bearers were finally carrying the pallet out of the room, a group of soldiers arrived, led by a stern-faced knight, his drawn sword in hand. He strode into the room with brisk authority and demanded to know the whereabouts of the man Isabella had sent them to arrest.

  Nurse wept into her hands, sobbing inconsolably, trying to delay her response to the soldiers so Alejandro and the child would have more time to make their escape. The leader finally shook her roughly by the shoulder.

  “Calm yourself, woman,” he said impatiently, “for with every moment of delay he increases the distance between us.”

  Indeed, she thought to herself. As she continued her sobs, Nurse took one hand from her face and, still wailing loudly, gestured in the direction of the door. The soldier, frustrated by Nurse’s feigned inability to direct him, had no time to wait for her moaning to cease, so he ordered the others to follow him, and they rushed out the door, their armor clanking.

  Alejandro whipped the horse with the leather strap, hoping to get as far away as possible in a short time. The worthy steed responded by running like the wind, though he was carrying two passengers. After an hour’s ride the physician knew that they must rest or the horse would be ruined; unlike his earlier trip on the animal’s back, he had no hope of finding another should this one be rendered useless. They could not return to his estate, which by now was no doubt forfeit, for he was certain that the king’s men would seek them there, and soon. He knew that they would have to make their escape only with what they carried, and that they would have to stay off the roads.

  They found a dense wood with a small stream, and dismounted there. Alejandro wiped down the lathered horse as best he could, and led him to the water, where the exhausted animal drank greedily. Then he spread a thin blanket on the soft pine needles of the forest floor, and lay down with young Kate to try to sleep, but the numbing effect of the day was not enough to bring them respite. Neither one closed an eye; daylight found them still awake, and filled with crushing grief.

  Sir John Chandos could barely contain himself as he listened to the orders. King Edward’s booming voice made the hateful mission known to the assembled men before him, every one of whom owed his continued life to the man he would now be hunting. It would be his dishonorable duty to lead out a party to hunt down the fugitive physician, now known to be a Jew, who had abducted the little girl after assaulting the Princess Isabella.

  He stared coldly back at the king, and thought gravely that the soul of the man before him had just acquired another sin requiring atonement. The sin of bearing false witness. Did I not honor you for your bravery, King Edward, and your gallant son as well, I would now bear witness against you myself to prevent this travesty! You speak of the rape of Lady Adele, but I know it is not so! That physician had not a rape within him. Already such a litany of lies, the warrior thought; will this king ever get out of purgatory?

  “Your Majesty, I beg a word,” he said when the king had finished his announcement.

  “Speak, then, soldier, for you must quickly be off.”

  “I beg your indulgence, Sire. You know I am your loyal servant, that I have served you well in Crécy and imparted my best skills to the prince—”

  “Get on with it, Chandos,” the king said impatiently, “for I am anxious to catch this man!”

  “My lord, I only wish to say that, Jew or not, this physician had shown himself to be a good man. None among us suspected him of being anything other than the pope’s emissary until now, and certainly not something so foul as a Jew! He bears none of the customary despicable Oriental qualities, and he has bravely performed his duties in the face of incessant opposition. I believe we are alive now because of his constancy and fine service.”

  “And what would you have me do, knight? His deceit is nothing short of treasonous, and you know the penalties for treason. By rights I should have the man drawn and quartered.” He narrowed his eyes and looked at Chandos. “But that shall not be his fate when you catch him, though I admit I would relish it, for it would deprive me of the immense pleasure of watching him burn.”

  The soldier bit his tongue and bowed to the king, but cursed him in his hear
t as he went to prepare for the chase.

  Alejandro and Kate traveled hard all the next day, stopping only for food and water. They kept to wooded, unpeopled areas to avoid discovery. The few people they passed took them for father and daughter, as it was not unusual in the wake of the plague to see fractured families deserting ruined towns for a more hopeful life elsewhere. No one who witnessed their flight bothered to wonder how such a dark and swarthy man should come to have such a tiny, fair child, until they were queried by Chandos, who led his band in hot pursuit. Then it was an easy task to recall the strange traveling pair, and the news of the fugitives raced quickly through the area between Canterbury and London.

  As they stopped for water on the second day, Alejandro crouched at the edge of a still pond and looked into the glassy surface to examine his growing beard; he had stayed clean shaven since Eduardo Hernandez had bidden him to remove it, for the sake of disguising himself. Now he grew it again to disguise himself anew. As he stroked his neck, his fingertips found a small hard lump under his chin, and he sat down hard from the shock of his discovery, steadying himself with one hand as he hit the ground. Kate observed all this, and rushed frantically to his side.

  “No!” she cried when she saw his neck. “No! You cannot die!”

  Soon I will be too weak to ride, Alejandro thought to himself as he clung to both the horse and the child. And though he knew the method for curing himself, he lacked the means. He set the horse immediately on the road to Mother Sarah’s cottage, hoping against all wisdom that he would arrive soon enough to seek her treatment. They rode through towns and villages without stopping; the horse kicked up a cloud of dust behind him as they sped past gaping onlookers. Alejandro knew that should the king’s search party happen upon anyone who had seen them, they would easily be tracked; but he had no choice, he could not take the time to travel in a way that would discourage their discovery.