“Very impressive. But what business have you with me?”
The boy swallowed. There was real fear in his eyes. But not of you.
“I’ve come to deliver news of a sickness, spreading like wildfire throughout the region. The doctors of Bucharest can barely move fast enough to fight it, and we’ve done everything we can to prevent the spread. I am very sorry to say we have not been successful. The illness has reached the outlying cities. Your city, sire. I saw five cases today alone in the town just beyond these walls. I asked for a letter to be dispatched to you post-haste but no one in the town would…” He swallowed, unsure of how to proceed. “The people are, ah, superstitious, and…”
“They think me a baby-slaying Devil,” you supplied, with a cordial smile that made it sound more like an introduction. “I’m well aware. As I said, we do not receive many visitors. The situation must be truly dire for you to come yourself.”
The doctor clutched his hands around the staff he carried.
“It is… grave, I will say as much. I thought you, as the region’s sovereign, deserved to know. I’m not sure what relationship you have with the smaller towns, but the people speak of you as their lord. I have found, in times of plague, that if a ruler moves quickly, sometimes catastrophe can be averted.”
A thin smile touched your mouth. A cat pleased with the fight a mouse was putting up.
“And what would you have me do, as ruler?”
“Leverage your power to spread the word. Tell the people to avoid the open-air markets and the cesspools, the garbage heaps. They mustn’t breathe the foul air; it will infect the body. Those who succumb must be strictly sequestered in their beds.”
You gave a dismissive wave, already turning from him. I stepped forward, poised to show our guest out the door.
“Those people do not answer to me. Let them rally themselves.”
The doctor took a few strides towards you, and I almost thought he might catch your arm as though you were a common merchant. Bold, this one.
“You have such vast wealth, and resources, sire. The people would look upon you as a savior, a benefactor, if you came to their aid. Surely it would only cement their loyalty; it serves your ends as well. You said yourself that it is only you and the lady in this vast home. Perhaps a wing could be donated to the doctors and the nuns who tend the sick, or even a gatehouse.”
“Are you sure you aren’t a holy man come to lecture me on the sins of excess? It’s Constanta you must plead your charitable case to. She’s the only one in this house afflicted by piety.”
“I was educated by monks,” the doctor muttered. “They have their points to make. But I would not presume to ask you to sacrifice your own comfort, only to spare what little pleases his lordship—”
“We’re done here,” you said, flicking me a subtle gesture that meant I was to dismiss him. “Good day to you. Do not call again.”
I gathered my skirts and opened my mouth to see our guest out, but anger overtook his good sense and his tongue.
“You would not feel the same if you could see what was happening to your people,” the doctor snapped. “Boils that arise mysteriously and then fester and blacken within hours, children vomiting blood while elders lose their noses to gangrene, healthy young men struck dead in a day! Do not think your stone walls will protect you from this plague, sire. You must make preparations.”
You froze, shadowed by one of the stone arches of our home.
“Boils?” you echoed.
“In some cases, yes. Or swellings, rather, on the neck, under the arms, in the groin—”
“Will you come into the study?” you asked suddenly, eyes lit with a strange, urgent fire. The doctor and I exchanged a shocked look at your sudden change of temperament, but you were insistent. “Please. I wish to hear more of this plague.”
“You heard my lord,” I said, ushering our guest into the darkness of the home. He walked without protest, but his mouth was tight. Suspicious. He was too smart for his own good.
We led him into the cramped room where a desk and parchment were stored, virtually abandoned. You knew how to write, more languages than I had ever heard spoken, but we did not have much occasion to communicate with anyone.
“You said you were educated in a monastery?” you asked, retrieving what little wet ink was left. “Write for me then, a list of the symptoms. Start from the outset all the way to death, do not spare me the details.”
The doctor took the quill hesitantly, casting a wary glance my way.