“Walter the butcher and Alice, Charlie and Cecily’s mother, are sick. None of the herbs are helping, Elias. I do not know who it will strike next.”
“Aye, I have thought of it, as well,” he admitted. “’Tis indeed a terrible time right now.”
She sniffled against him. “Just a few days ago, my biggest trouble was what to give Joan for her ankles.”
“Aye,” he consoled, “but let us not live as though we have already been defeated, aye?”
She lifted her head and stared at him and then smiled. He was telling her what she’d forgotten for a moment. “Aye,” she agreed.
“Where are the Millers’ bodies?” she asked him, hating the words and moving out of his embrace.
“We buried them.”
She wanted to thank him for it—and for his comforting arms.
“Where is Brother Simon?”
“He has gone to pray fer Joan.” His eyes took her in as if he only had a moment before he was caught.
They returned to the warmth of the kitchen hearth, where Lily prepared lemon tea prepared with some of the herbs Richard was using in his remedies. She told him about the children sleeping above stairs in the beds. He promised he didn’t mind sleeping on the floor in the sitting room and she promised to make it more comfortable with many blankets.
Simon entered the kitchen from outside and with him came a gust of wind and a wide smile from Lily.
“Brother Simon,” she said in a hushed tone, going to him. “I’m so happy to see you.”
“As I am happy to see you. How is Richard?”
“He is well. Asleep. Come.” She took the brother’s hand and led him to a chair. “How is Joan?”
“Worse than when I left.”
“Elias told me about Martin and Deirdre…and the babe. We must not tell Joan about her family,” she said quietly. “She will lose all hope to live.”
The two men agreed somberly and accepted their cups of tea. She gave Brother Simon hers and made more. She told him about the others who were sick and he promised to see them tomorrow. They broke it to him that there were children in the beds.
“Well, at least we a have roof over our head,” the brother said.
Elias smiled at him. “Sleepin’ ootdoors isna so bad. Ye have done it many times.”
“Aye, and each time I hated it,” the small-boned brother retorted. “Bugs everywhere. You do not know what might be crawling on you in the darkness. Moonlight does not help because sometimes seeing what is on you is worse.”
He and Lily cringed then shivered.
“That is not to mention,” he continued with a sour face, “the things out there that can eat you, or stab you in the heart and steal your coin.”
Lily didn’t know how anyone did it. Just the thought…and what about bats?
She felt Elias’ eyes on her and looked at him. He smiled, watching her reaction to his friend’s words. She felt a little giddy. She was so happy that he was well. So happy he’d come back. If she was going to die, let her last days be giddy ones.
They sipped their tea and talked about other things. Elias told her about his family members and Brother Simon told her about some of their adventures in France. She told them about little Eddie being born the night she and Bertram had arrived. “He holds a special place in my heart because I helped bring him into this world. He is very precious. Even Bertram was gentle around him.”
They finally laid their heads down, and the sun came up two hours later.
Lily didn’t want to get out of bed and face a new day with more of her friends, perhaps even those who meant even more to her, sick.
Someone was tapping her on the arm, rousing her from the last remnants of sleep.
“Lily.” It was Charlie, Cecily’s brother. He was standing over her, his face ashen gray. “I think my mother is dead.”