by S. D. Sykes
But this was not how I would die.
The corpses were no longer putrefying – as a body left to rot in the open air is soon reduced to bone, with only the occasional strand of desiccated flesh hanging from a rib or finger. But the smell of decay was still strong and I knew the foul scent would mask my own. Even if the dogs could smell me, I doubted de Caburn would approach the plague victims for fear of contamination.
I was only afraid of their odour, however, for I knew their sickness would never harm me.
I held my nose, slipped down the steep sides, and pulled aside the bones and dirty cloth to make a small hollow. As I dragged a coat over myself I disturbed a multitude of maggot shells, which only served to make me feel more nauseated. And then I lay there, totally still. Sinking into this creaking and bony mattress of death.
The dogs soon approached – their soft cantering paws thudding through the undergrowth. Their urgent barking stopped. Instead they sniffed and whimpered in the way a dog will, when it is straining on a leash. I could see nothing but the lattice of fading daylight through the thin tunic of the man whose body rested on top of me.
And then I closed my eyes and kept them tightly shut. For how long, I cannot say. My breathing was fast and shallow, and choked my throat. My heart missed a beat. When I eventually dared to look, I saw only the shadow of something as it circled the rim of the pit. It was impossible to tell if it were a man or beast. I only knew it was looking for me.
I held my breath until there was silence. An intense and foreboding stillness. Where had the dogs gone? Were they still there? And then I no longer cared. Something seemed to wriggle inside my tunic. Thinking it was a maggot, I panicked. I would even have faced de Caburn and his dogs.
Pushing the tangle of bodies and clothing away from me, I scrambled up the slippery sides of the pit – rolling into the clearing to beat away the maggot shells that clung to my clothes. The light had now faded completely. The sky was dark and grey.
I was not of sanguine mind. I will admit that. I was both exhausted and disturbed. But I did not imagine what happened next. No matter what the others would say.
Something moved in the shadows, just yards away from me. I was being watched. Examined. Smelt. And then forms moved stealthily in the undergrowth, though in this light it was impossible to say if they were animal or human. I called for them to come forward. To show themselves. But they remained hidden in the cover of the bushes, content to wait and observe me.
I wanted to run, but my body was gripped with icy fear. Now sensing my paralysis they began to advance from the undergrowth, creeping towards me in the thick darkness. And then, just for a moment, the clouds parted to reveal a white and radiant moon. And in a fleeting beam of moonlight, I saw their faces.
It was only for a moment. But I know what I saw. The creatures had the heads of dogs.
I called for help. I prayed to God. I even called to de Caburn.
Suddenly a torch flamed in the clearing. The faces melted away into the shadows and somebody pulled me up by the hand. And then we ran.
Chapter Ten
As we fled, my champion was always ahead of me – picking a path through the trees, as a fox runs on his own tracks. I sensed he was a boy, but he kept his face hidden beneath a long hood. And though I tried repeatedly to speak with him, he remained steadfastly silent.
After crossing a low valley, we followed an outcrop of rock until the boy located a hidden gap. We then squeezed between two boulders to climb a steep path that rose above the tree canopy. A narrow ledge ran along the rocks at this level, along which we sidled with care before stopping by a recess in the stone. It was pitch black by now, but I could tell this was the entrance to a cave. A cold air emanated from the void.
‘Go in,’ he told me.
I hesitated. ‘Who are you?’
He pushed me. ‘Get in! It’s not safe out here.’
Inside, the cave was as dank and chill as it had promised to be, until the boy lit a fire by the entrance. Then I could see that it was a home, of sorts. His home. Animal skins were spread across the floor. A crude bench was pushed against a wall, and knives and axes hung from hooks in the rock. The boy lifted a large copper cooking pot and lumbered it over to a trivet on the fire. Once the pot had warmed a little, the boy lifted the lid and gave the contents a stir.
Always he took care to keep his hood low so that I was still unable to see his face. ‘You stink like a dead man,’ he told me. ‘You should take your tunic off.’
He was correct. I smelt as revolting as a vat of piss at the tanner’s. But as much as I reeked, I did not feel inclined to wander about his cave in just my braies and shirt, so I shook my head.
‘You can’t stay in here smelling like that,’ he said. ‘I have some furs you can wrap about yourself tonight.’
Reluctantly I removed my tunic and he motioned for me to pass him the garment, so that he could place it near the fire in order to smoke out its foul odour.
It was at this moment his hood finally dropped, revealing his face. I gasped. For he was as misshapen as a galled tree. His head was long and thin with a pronounced forehead and jaw. His teeth were prominent and flipped over his bottom lip, and his eyes barely seemed to fit into their sockets. Long black hair grew patchily over his scalp and was drawn back into a crude plait. If anything, he had the head of an animal. I might even say a dog.
I shrank away from him. ‘What are you?’
‘And what are you? Smelling like a dead man. Lazarus?’ He laughed bitterly and then began to whistle a tune as he threw me a sheepskin. It was a nursery rhyme.
My voice was unsteady. ‘The creatures in the forest. Were they the same as you?’
He stopped whistling. ‘What creatures?’
‘The creatures you saved me from.’
He shrugged. ‘I didn’t see anything.’
‘Yes you did. You waved a burning torch to scare them away.’
‘It was dark. We needed some light.’
‘You came there to save me.’
He looked me in the eye. ‘No, I didn’t.’
‘So what were you doing there?’
He snorted. ‘I could ask the same of you.’
‘I was hiding.’
‘Who from?’
I hesitated. ‘Walter de Caburn.’
He snorted again. ‘Never heard of him.’
‘My family will be looking for me,’ I said, in an attempt to scare the boy. ‘If you harm me. They’ll hunt you down.’
But my feeble threat was only met with yet a further shrug.
He stirred the pot again. ‘You’re not very good at hiding, are you?’ He smiled but didn’t look up at me. ‘I saw you straight away.’
‘I’d been in the pit before you got there. I’d just climbed out.’
This time it was the boy’s turn to recoil. ‘The pit?’
‘Yes.’
Now he shuffled away from me. ‘Why did you go into such a place?’
‘I told you before. I was hiding from Walter de Caburn.’
‘Then you’ll die from the Pestilence.’ I noticed sweat now beaded amongst the untidy hair of his upper lip.
‘That won’t happen to me,’ I said.
‘Why? Are you Christ himself?’
‘Of course not.’
He backed away against the wall and drew a small knife. ‘Then you’ll taint me. You must get out of here. Now!’ He brandished the knife, though I doubted he would actually attack me, given his fear of the Plague.
I tried to speak softly. To reassure him. ‘I cannot poison you. You must believe me.’
He trembled. ‘Yes you can. I heard what happened in the villages. Just one brush with a dead body is enough to kill a man.’ Now he pushed the knife as close to my face as he dared. ‘I shouldn’t have brought you here. I should have let them take you.’
‘Let what take me?’ I grabbed the boy’s hand and pushed him against the wall, but his wiry strength soon had the better of me, even though he
was shorter by at least a foot.
‘You must go,’ he said. ‘Leave me alone.’
I didn’t want to stay in this damp hole. But then again I did not want to face what lurked outside. Noises reached us from the mouth of the cave. Furtive scuffling, then silence. The sound of something patient, waiting to take its prey.
‘I cannot infect you,’ I said again to the boy. ‘You must believe me.’
‘Why do you keep saying that?’
I took a deep breath. ‘Because I have already suffered from the Pestilence.’
His face twisted in suspicion. ‘That’s a lie.’
‘It’s not. I cannot suffer a second time.’
‘That’s not true. Everybody dies.’
‘No. It is possible to recover.’ I sighed. ‘Though few do.’
‘But you will carry the contagion. And pass it to others.’
I felt angry now, since this ignorance was the reason I kept my secret. ‘It’s nine months since I was ill. I’ve infected nobody.’ I looked him in the eye. ‘I promise you.’
‘I don’t trust you.’
‘Why else would I have hidden in such an evil place?’
He studied me cautiously for a while, still unsure whether to believe my story. And then he relaxed and slowly we returned to our places by the fire. Watching the flames in silence.
‘What’s your name?’ I asked him in the end.
He hesitated. ‘I don’t have one.’
‘Of course you do. Somebody gave birth to you and taught you to whistle that tune.’
He hesitated again. ‘It’s Leofwin.’
‘Do you live here alone?’
Now he smiled at my question. ‘No, I have a beautiful wife and three children. And sometimes the king comes to visit.’
We returned to silence, which was only broken occasionally by Leofwin stirring the pot. The carcass of a rabbit was boiling with onions and peas, and when it finally bubbled Leofwin ladled a portion into a clean wooden bowl. ‘Want some?’ he asked me. As he passed the stew, I noted his fingers were fused together, giving him a large claw-like pincer rather than a hand.
He saw me looking.‘Wondering what I am, are you?’ he said, thrusting his deformed hand at me. ‘My mother was a devil and my father was a werewolf.’ He then threw back his head and laughed, revealing more of his extraordinary teeth – teeth that seemed to grow at the oddest of angles from his jaw.
When I didn’t respond to his joke, he spooned himself out a generous portion of stew and sat down next to me on the bench.
‘Thank you for helping me,’ I said. ‘You saved my life.’
He shrugged and sucked some meat from a bone.
Around the cave were the skeletons of forest animals. I counted five skulls of various sizes. A pile of animal skins lay in the corner, but also a gown, sewn with fine embroidery.
‘Why do you have a dress?’ I said, pointing to this garment.
‘None of your business.’
‘I’m a lord, Leofwin. Don’t speak to me in such a manner.’
‘Are you?’ he said, still chewing his rabbit meat.
‘Do you know Somershill?’
He took the bone from his mouth. ‘That’s where you come from, is it? Is that where you’re lord?’ The word seemed to amuse him.
‘Yes.’
He leant forward but avoided my gaze. ‘Have there been many deaths there?’
‘Yes. At least half the village died in the Plague.’
‘I meant in more recent days.’
‘Why do you want to know?’
He continued to suck the bone. ‘It’s just a question. That’s all.’
‘Since you ask, there’ve been two murders.’
He sat up straight and looked at me. ‘Who?’
‘Two girls. Alison and Matilda Starvecrow. Do you know them?’
He relaxed immediately. ‘Of course I don’t know them. I don’t know anybody.’ He went back to the cooking pot and ladled himself out a second helping. ‘More?’
I nodded. The stew was good. ‘Will you lead me back to Somershill tomorrow?’ He hesitated. ‘I’ll pay you.’
‘What with?’ I showed him the silver ring on my little finger, but he pointed to the signet ring. ‘I’ll take that one.’
I felt the band of gold and amber. ‘My father gave me this. You can’t have it.’
‘Find your own way back then.’
‘Take the silver ring. It’s valuable.’
He shook his head.
I sighed. ‘Very well. But take me the back ways. We mustn’t cross de Caburn’s land.’ He held his palm open, expecting me to drop the ring into it. ‘I’ll give it to you when we get there.’
He bowed with a mocking flourish. ‘As you wish, my lord.’ But then his face darkened. ‘But you must never talk of me. Do you understand?’ I nodded. ‘I will only take you to the border of your parish. No further.’
Now we had finished eating, Leofwin rebuilt the fire near to the entrance and then threw me a second sheepskin to lie on. A blanket followed, which was of the finest wool. I wanted to ask him how he came by such sumptuous belongings, but I suspected the answer would be the same as for the gown.
‘Tell me how you survived the Great Mortality,’ he said, when I had settled down upon the sheepskin. ‘How were you cured?’
I hesitated. ‘I don’t know. It must have been good luck.’
Leofwin huffed. ‘You want to keep the cure to yourself? Is that it?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Then tell me your story.’ He closed his eyes. ‘I like stories.’
‘I could tell you about something else.’
‘No. I want to hear about the Plague.’
In some ways it would be a relief to tell this tale, since Brother Peter had sworn me to secrecy. He had feared my position as lord would be placed in jeopardy if the truth were known. So I had not told a soul. Not even Mother. Or perhaps I should say, especially not Mother. There would be some, like Leofwin, who would consider me tainted and at risk of spreading the contagion. But there would be others who claimed I had been cured by magic or witchcraft.
I sighed and pulled the blanket about my neck. ‘It was September last year when the Pestilence finally reached our monastery. I was a novice and apprentice to the infirmarer.’
‘I thought you were a lord.’
‘Do you want to hear this story?’ He grunted and I continued. ‘I left the abbey with Brother Peter after the first of our order died. We thought we had escaped the Plague, but it seems it had come with us. I developed a fever as we travelled.’
‘Was it as painful as they say?’
‘Yes. At first you sweat, but soon you are trembling until your legs are too weak to bear your own weight. When I reached this state, we could not continue our journey.’
‘So what did you do?’
‘Peter found an abandoned cottage where he could nurse me.’
‘He didn’t leave you?’
‘No.’
‘But he risked death himself.’
‘He wore a mask that protects a physician from the deadly miasma.’
Leofwin laughed. ‘They don’t work.’
‘Once again that’s not true,’ I said. ‘Peter tended to the abbot and did not catch the Plague. And he did not suffer after treating me, though he nursed me through the whole sickness.’
‘So it was his treatment that saved you?’
I sighed. ‘He cooled my brow with water and gave me infusions to drink. But it was not the potions that saved me.’
‘What was it then?’
‘The buboes grew in my armpits and groin. Bigger and blacker by the hour. Peter feared for my life, but he would not administer the last rites, even though I wanted to die.’
‘But you didn’t.’ The boy opened his eyes. ‘So it was sorcery?’
I shook my head. ‘No. It was science.’ The fire created shadows on the ceiling and somewhere outside an owl hooted. Thinking I heard scratching a
gain near the entrance to the cave, I sat up. ‘What’s that? Is something out there?’
Leofwin waved his hand. ‘It’s nothing. Go on with your story. I want to know the end.’
I settled down again, trying to feel reassured. ‘There is only one way to save the patient once the buboes have grown so large. But it’s a dangerous cure that may kill the patient as quickly as the Plague. And it’s hazardous to the physician himself.’
‘Why?’
‘It releases a poisonous vapour that spreads through the air and infects the lungs.’
‘So what did he do?’
I thought back to that moment. Stuck in that dirty cottage with death at my shoulder. I hardly wanted to speak of it.
‘What did he do?’ insisted Leofwin.
‘Peter lanced each of the buboes and drained them of their pus.’
Leofwin now pulled a face of disgust. ‘Did it hurt?’
‘Of course it did! It was the worst pain I have ever endured.’
‘And what did it look like? The pus.’
These questions were beginning to annoy me. ‘I don’t know. Black, I suppose.’
‘And did it smell?’
‘Probably! I can’t remember. I was dying.’
‘But you didn’t.’
I smiled to myself. For the memory of survival was still sweet. ‘No. Once I was freed of the contamination, my fever began to cool. And then, after a few days I was able to walk again.’
‘And then you were cured?’
‘Yes.’
Leofwin whistled. ‘He must love you. This monk.’
‘He’s a man of God. He wouldn’t have abandoned me.’
‘You’re lucky to have such a friend.’
I caught his eye and for a moment we exchanged a look that might even have developed into a smile. ‘I’ve told you about the Plague, so you must tell me about the creatures we saw earlier at the pit.’
Now Leofwin stiffened and his smile disappeared. ‘I know nothing of them. I told you that before.’
‘Did you see their faces?’
‘No. It was too dark.’
‘It seemed to me they had the heads of dogs.’
He stoked up the fire. ‘I saw nothing like that.’
‘But you must have seen something, Leofwin. Otherwise, why did you come to save me?’