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Chronicle II, Chapter 8 Sorrows By William Black Morgan's tent was aglow with light as Doctor Ambros entered. He could see immediately that Sir Robert lay near death, the once proud face now drawn and skeleton-like. Morgan herself did not appear much better. Dried trails where tears once flowed still marked her smooth cheeks. Her eyes were flush and puffy. She was kneeling by her beloved and didn't appear to notice the physician's approach. "Morgan, please go and get some rest. There is nothing more you can do. We'll look after him. I personally won't leave his side until you return." He watched her for a response, but she said nothing. He went over to her and tried to lift her to her feet. She turned on him, flinging his arms away from her. The malice in her voice was like sharp blades, "SO! There is nothing more I CAN do for him? Well, it doesn't look like you're doing a hell of a lot for him either!" Her gaze smoldered, "I will have you know that this morning I made love to him! That's right, urgent, passionate love. He was vibrant then, full of strength and joy. But NOW look at him! Look doctor with all your wise learning. This is death itself come to mock you!" Then, looking back to her love, she wept anew. "Please doctor, for God's sake, please heal him." She laid her head on her lover's chest, sobs raking her body. Again, gentle hands took her by the shoulders. She turned violently to dislodge them, cursing the effort to comfort her, but this time anger turned to cold fear. With crab-like quickness she scooted across the floor away from the dark form before her. A black-robed figure stood where she once sat nursing her knight. "Do as the doctor says," the dark figure admonished. "You need rest, and it's true you know. You can do no more here this night." The specter moved as if it hovered just above the dirt floor, its walk was fluid and smooth. The robed figure reached down his hand to her, which she tentatively took. He helped her to her feet and said kindly, "I am here to help. I will do all I can. If you trust and believe, you will be able to speak with your love tomorrow." Her eyes narrowed at the man's words. She looked back at Robert, his head looking more skull-like by the hour, and doubts assailed her. Looking back at the night-clad figure she wavered, "Who are you that you speak with such confidence? Look at him lying over there. Our finest physicians don't have a clue as to how to help him or the others, what makes you so special?" Bitterness tinged her voice. "I never said I was special. I only said that if you would trust and believe, you will be able to speak with him tomorrow." Then in a more imperious tone, "Go now, for you are wasting my time." He ushered her over to the front of the tent and out into the night. "Do not come back until morning light." He shut the flap and tied it tight. Turning to Ambros he motioned him to a small table in one corner of the tent. As he removed his hood, he said, "Look here, I have a list of items I will need. But I want you to continue with the treatments you have already prescribed." Ambros, a knowing smile turning up the sides of his mouth, looked with admiration on the young knight. Then he grew serious once more, "Why continue with treatments that don't seem to be working? We even tried some alternative medications tonight, before you arrived. At least Sir Robert over there had no reaction whatsoever." Aspen looked down at his hands and considered how to respond, "You must continue the treatments simple because they're working. No, don't object. The medication is helping, though you don't see any evidence of it." "How do you know this?" doubt filled Ambros' voice. "Because I know what type of sorcery has been done here. I also know that if you don't continue the medications, all these men will die." Ambros read the list Aspen had handed him. It was simple really, and easily filled. But one item made him wonder. He looked at the list a second time, then at the young man across the table from him. "You mentioned sorcery. It was forbidden during the tournament, so what makes you think, besides the obvious fact that these men are wasting away at an alarming rate..." his words trailed off. "Never mind. It is the only explanation." Aspen smiled sadly and nodded his head. Ambros fiddled with the paper in his hands, "Are you sure this is all that is needed?" Aspen stood and looked down at the old man, "Yes. This will do. I will be back before Morgan arrives to check on her love. Trust me, this will help, but reveal to no one the secrets written there." With that Aspen slid his hood back over his head and moved to go out the front entrance. As he untied the flap he said, "Ambros, do you know who I am?" "Yes." Aspen glanced back at the doctor, candlelight reflecting in his dark brown eyes. "If you value these men's lives, and the lives of all in this realm, you will keep your knowledge to yourself." He lowered his gaze to the floor as if considering something more to say, but instead turned, and went out into the cool night air. William Black © Continues... Chronicle II, Main page |