Prologue
It was a stifling hot summer's evening, the humidity in the still air unforgiving. Geoffrey Chaucer sat at the small wooden table in the corner of the room he shared with Watt and Roland, furiously crumpling up a piece of parchment and tossing it to the ground, adding to the pile of discarded parchment that had begun to grow at his feet. Chaucer stared at the lonely parchment he had been able to produce in the past month.
A Night's Tale
Chaucer groaned, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. He couldn't understand it. He had never suffered this sort of block before. And yet, as soon as he set down to write the greatest story of his life, he could not find the words to begin it. Watt's incessant snoring certainly did not help.
The sound of Kate's voice was much more pleasant than Watt's snoring, and even from across the hallway, Chaucer could hear her reading to Will. They had been living at the inn ever since Will fell ill with pneumonia, almost a month ago. Geoffrey hated to think of how Will would have been faring, if Kate had not been there to look after him. He, Roland, and Watt did what they could to help, but they would have been lost without Kate.
Feeling exhaustion overcome him, Chaucer blew out the candle. Pulling his chair away from the table, he stood up and walked out into the hallway, meaning only to bid Kate goodnight before heading to bed. He stopped short of the doorway, however, suddenly mesmerized by the scene before him. Kate was reading to William, as she had done every night since he had fallen ill. Sometimes she read stories that Chaucer had written, or found along his travels… but most of the time she read from her late husband's bible.
It was a bit surreal to see William so weak, and Kate so unguarded. Curiosity getting the better of him, Chaucer stepped out of the dim stream of candlelight leading out into the hallway so that he could watch them unnoticed.
"We are often troubled, but not crushed. Sometimes in doubt, but never despair. There are many enemies, but we are never without a friend… and though badly hurt at times, we are not destroyed…."
Kate's voice trailed off as William succumbed to yet another coughing fit. She reached for the goblet of water, tilting it so that William did not have to use any strength to sit up. She grasped his hand as William coughed and wheezed, struggling to catch his breath again. Eventually he settled down again, and she wiped the hair out of his eyes as she placed a fresh piece of damp cloth over his forehead, offering some relief from the oppressive heat.
William grabbed her wrist. "Jocelyn…"
Kate froze. "No Will," she said softly. "Kate. I'm Kate."
"Kate…" William repeated. "Kate has been so good to me. I've missed you, Jocelyn."
Kate leaned forward, kissing his forehead. "Close your eyes and rest, William."
"Stay here with me," he begged, taking her hand in his.
"Of course," Kate told him. "Close your eyes now, I will be here when you wake."
Will smiled, keeping his eyes on Kate as he drifted off to sleep. Chaucer had no idea how long he stood there watching Kate watch William sleep, but it was only when her shoulders began to shake did he step back into the doorway.
"Geoffrey," Kate greeted him softly, wiping her eyes with her hands. "I didn't know you were still up."
"How is he?" Geoffrey asked taking the empty seat at the table.
Kate sighed. "The same."
"And how are you?"
"I'm fine," Kate told him unconvincingly. She drew in a deep breath, and tried again. "I'm fine."
Chaucer pulled the chair closer to her, taking her hands in his. "You must have faith in him, Kate."
Kate flinched, hastily withdrawing her hands. "I do," she snapped at him angrily.
"And you must also have faith in yourself. For he has placed his faith in you, Kate. You mustn't doubt yourself.," Chaucer finished.
"I couldn't cure Thomas," Kate told him sadly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I couldn't cure him. And now William… I can't loose them both. I can't loose him. I can't…"
"'Come now," Geoffrey said. "When have you ever known William to yield? He won't be beaten by sickness."
Kate shook her head. "He has already let the sickness take hold of him Ever since Jocelyn left…"
"Will does not need Jocelyn," Geoffrey said sharply, cutting her off. "He needs you. You must be strong for him. You must give him strength."
"What if I am not strong enough?" Kate whispered, looking up at him.
"If you are asking me," Geoffrey told her. "Then you are not the same woman I know."
Kate gave him small smile as she wiped away the rest of her tears. "Thank you."
"Anytime," Geoffrey said, leaning over to kiss the top of her forehead.
