The Scourge (The Scourge, Book 1) by Calas Roberto

Author:Calas, Roberto [Calas, Roberto]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: 47North
Published: 2012-11-13T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 26

I sleep well that night until just before first light, when the pounding starts. The clamor catches me in a dream. I am with Elizabeth again, but I have committed a great crime and justice has come for me. At first, the pounding on my door is that of soldiers come to take me from her.

But it is not soldiers that pry me from Elizabeth, it is Tristan. His blows shake the oaken door and his cries hold a note of terror that wrenches me from sleep. I leap naked from the bed and throw open the great iron-hinged slab of oak. Tristan — also naked — is spattered with blood and reeks of honey mead.

He runs inside, slams the door shut and replaces the long beam of wood that bars it. He tugs on the latch to ensure that no one can get in, then falls back against the door, his chest rising and falling with each breath. His eyes are red and crusted with sleep.

“Plaguers got into the village.” His voice is loud and unsteady. “They're everywhere. They got Lilly.”

“Lilly?” I remember Tristan disappearing with her before I retired to my chamber.

“Yes. She has plagued.” He breathes erratically and rubs at his face, smearing blood across his cheek. I have rarely seen Tristan in a state such as this. He shakes his head. “I told you that peddler was a fraud.”

I grab Tristan's chin and force him to look at me. “Tell me what happened.”

He nods and struggles to control his breathing. “I…I slept in Lilly's chamber last night.” He takes a deep breath. “Morgan told me not to. He said God would punish me. Brimstone and all that. But I did it anyway. We fell asleep late and when I woke up, Lilly was standing by the washbasin and the door was open. I…” His eyes grow distant and his mouth twists with horror at the memory. “I was so tired. I walked to her and put my hand on her shoulder. And I…I kissed her neck…Christ almighty, Edward, I kissed her neck!”

I see where this is heading.

“She turned to me,” he says. “And her eyes…she was…She growled at me, like… …like a cornered badger.” He runs a hand across his forehead. “She must have woken early and left the room. And something…one of those things…”

“Tristan,” I say. “How is that possible? Are you saying the plaguers got into the manor?”

“Yes! They are all over the manor. I…I had to…Lilly…she came at me…” His breathing speeds up again. “She's gone now.” He takes several deep breaths. “Afterward, I looked out the window, and the afflicted were everywhere. Hundreds of them. It must be that pack from the willow.”

I am already donning my trousers. “Morgan is downstairs. We need to fetch him.” I gesture toward the two piles of armor and weapons on the floor; I stored them in my room for safety. Tristan lifts a padded gambeson and thrusts his arms and head into it. He'll have to wear the mail with no trousers.

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