Paris, 1482.
The streets were empty, not a single person dared to go out at this hour in the night anymore. Especially not after what had been happening for almost two months. Even tramps and scoundrels had found places to hide.
A stranger at the moment would assume the city had been taken by the plague upon arrival at the empty city. But it wasn't the plague, just the fear, plain fear.
The hospice was now full of 'inhabitants,' most of whom weren't injured nor ill, but was safe and Jacques, the doctor, easily ignored them.
On the other hand, he was taking care of a gypsy and he was trying hard to keep his complaints to himself. His patient was silent.
All they could hear were footsteps outside the room. Jacques had to admit that this very patient was quite impressive; he didn't even moan or complain. Surprisingly, Clopin had a small smile on his face, and for no reason. His left eye would never be able to see light anymore, and several cuts on had been sewn up.
The doctor finished his work, and began to clean his implements.
"You should rest now" he said to his patient.
Clopin looked stood still a moment, and thanked him before asking. "How could I pay you ? I don't have much money you know…"
"Nothing to worry about, Claude said he would take the charge. Yes, this very Claude, don't look at me this way, please !"
"May I talk to him…?"
"If you want, I'll fetch him."
…
Frollo was sitting on a chair, watching through the window without seeing anything, deep in his thoughts. It was now the second time he was waiting in this very hospice, in less than a month, for news about someone.
He felt broken, lonely, and lost. How could a common murder be so much trouble ? This living nightmare began with one murder, which seemed not so special.
The judge suddenly heard something and he turned quickly but saw nothing more than the candle. Then, hidden in shadows, he saw a familiar silhouette. Someone was standing there, staring at him. Frollo slowly stood up and walked nearer before hearing a deep voice.
"You're scared, aren't you ? You can't understand what's happening, nor can you remember. You feel oppressed… yet you deny the evidence…"
Before the minister could answer, his friend interrupted the 'conversation,' telling him that his new 'friend' wanted to see him. Apparently, Jacques didn't see anyone, but with one last glance, Frollo noticed that the mysterious person had disappeared.
On his way to Clopin's room, he grew more and more ill-at-ease. Like the mysterious man said, he felt oppressed.
Once he walked in the room, he stared at the gypsy, his voice stuck in his throat. Without holding up his head, Clopin said quietly "I'd like to thank you, for paying this doctor. I don't know what…"
"Why...?"
Clopin looked up, surprised.
"Why did you protect me...? I could have protected myself... Look at you, now...! You've only got one eye left !" continued Frollo.
"It could have been worse, you know..." answered Clopin.
"I didn't ask you anything..." some tears dropped from his eyes. "I always yell at you, insulted your people... why are you so... why...?"
He couldn't continue because of his tears. He looked down.
"There are no logical reasons to kill someone..." started Clopin. "So why would be one to protect someone ? "
Frollo didn't answer, Clopin walked towards him.
"Come on, don't cry please. It's not your fault; I acted on my own..."
He caught some tears of the minister.
"Don't waste such beautiful tears on me."
Frollo looked at him, without knowing how he should answer or react. He was starting to weaken, he could feel it. But he couldn't know why, what had happened these last two months was more than disturbing. It was true, but the more he was thinking about it, the more he felt that something terrible would come out to break him. He turned his eyes away from the one he considered an enemy for long, then he saw the same shadow he saw sooner.
He harshly turned towards the direction where it was and stood frozen.
Clopin noticed his odd behavior and looked in the same direction, curious. He saw nothing special, and stared at the judge. He could sense he was extremely tensed, but couldn't guess why. So he asked him if something was wrong, but the answer was confusing.
The King of the Gypsies wondered if the minister had seen something or someone in the reflection of the mirror they had been looking at.
But the main questions were : how has this nightmare begun ? And, will it ever end ?