I know there was a bit of a wait for this update, but it wasn't actually that long in comparison to most of my stories. I was taking some time to update one of my other stories and to work on my Halloween-type project. It is a "Casper" and "Hocus Pocus" crossover story that also manages to tie in the events of "Casper Meets Wendy." That covers a few of my favorite 90s Halloween movies I watched as a child. You're welcome to take a look if you're curious.
Anyway, we continue with the flashback type of scenes. A few more years have passed and soon it shall be time for the plague. Not to mention a couple of new characters of the past shall make an appearance. I know… Lots of original characters have been showing up in the last couple of chapters, but that's because most of the main characters of this story weren't born in the 1300s, so I have to invent some. But this is all helping to set the stage for Betelgeuse's eventual fate. And there is a minor connection to things in the modern day part of the story, though I doubt anyone will guess it until I flat out say it. Still, I hope you enjoy the chapter.
The Bubonic Plague, also known as the "Black Death," was not known as such when it first occurred and was only given a proper name afterwards. Originally, it was referred to as the "Great Mortality" or the "Great Plague." The outbreak was also the reason that the word "plague" gained use as a medical term. While the exact numbers vary between accounts on how many people were killed by the Bubonic Plague, it is generally agreed that between 75 and 200 million people in Europe were killed between 1346 and 1353. England did not encounter the disease until 1348, during which it killed half the population before dying down in 1349.
Due to the fact that England was still a predominantly rural and agrarian society, most of the population was still rural during the time of the plague with the main export being wool. Among the most immediate consequences of the Black Death in England was a shortage of farm labor and a corresponding rise in wages. With so many deaths, there were fewer people to run the farms and raise animals and crops necessary. Those that remained were more valuable due the scarcity, which led to them desiring higher compensation for their work. The medieval world-view was unable to interpret these changes in terms of socio-economic development and it became common to blame degrading morals instead.
However, as the church itself had given the cause of the Black Death to be the impropriety of the behavior of men, the higher death rate among the clergy led the people to lose faith in the Church as an institution. Since it had proved as ineffectual against the horror of Y. Pestis as every other medieval institution, it made it more difficult for the average person to believe in them. The corruption within the Catholic priesthood also angered the English people. Many priests abandoned the terrified people, hoping to escape the plague and seeding further doubt.
-Excerpt from 11th Grade European History Assignment "The Black Death's Effects on England" by Jasmine Fenton
Katelin carried her small basket of beans back to the house. Mama asked her to collect some so they could shell them later. She was already working on dinner, so her daughter was being helpful. She was still too small to do everything, but Katelin was learning as much as possible. Her big brother did the same thing with Papa, Henry picking up rocks from the fields and shooing away birds from going after the plants. The only way to learn was by practicing and helping their parents with the daily chores.
As she dodged around the pecking chickens, Katelin scurried inside. Mama was just finishing stirring her delicious pottage, the cauldron hanging on the iron pot-hanger over the fire. Since their house had been in Papa's family for several generations and they had plenty of time to keep making it better, their family had an actual chimney for the smoke along with a tripod, a shovel, large fire-irons, and a meat-hook to make it easier to cook and keep the fire burning. The warm and delicious scent filled the entire house. Katelin was certain that it could probably be smelled on the other side of the wall in the byre where the animals slept.
Trying to decide where the best place to place her basket would be, the little girl looked around. The cheese cupboard certainly wouldn't work and she wasn't allowed to touch Mama's loom until she was a little older. She could place it on one of the stools, but she was afraid it would get knocked over. That left only the chest in the corner that Papa made a year ago or the plank table. Making a decision, Katelin climbed on top of the closest stool so she could reach the table, the wood worn smooth by the years. It should be high and out of the way enough that no one would accidentally spill her load of beans. With her task complete, she hopped down and hurried to tug on her mother's dress.
"Mama? I picked the beans," she said. "Can I help more, Mama?"
Turning away from the fireside, she picked up her daughter and kissed her on top of her head. Katelin smiled and hugged her back. Mama always had time to show her how much she loved her daughter. She was never too busy for that, no matter how much work she had to do during the day.
Setting her back down, her mother said, "Thank you, Katelin. That was very helpful. We might have some of your beans for supper tomorrow." Stepping away briefly to grab something from the other end of the table, she suggested, "Why don't you take this basket outside and wait for your father. He is supposed to deliver it this evening."
Katelin nodded eagerly as her mother handed her the larger basket, the one she usually took when she went to the village. Inside was one of the loaves of bread that Mama would bring back from the oven. The only time Katelin saw the oven that everyone used to bake their bread was on the days her mother took the old plow horse, Mary. It was too far for the young girl to walk, even if they weren't as far from the village as some people. She did enjoy the trips when she could ride on top of Mary or in the cart. She loved the smell of fresh bread and listening to Mama talk with the other women who were baking. The aroma was almost as delicious as Mama's pottage.
Carrying the larger basket of bread, Katelin scurried back outside and found a nice spot to watch the path away from her house. It was summer instead of the busier autumn season, so Papa and Henry would be home before dark. Until then, she would wait patiently like a good girl. She knew it wouldn't be long.
As she expected, Katelin only had to sit on the grass for a few minutes waiting while listening to the clucks of chickens. Then she heard the distant sounds of her brother and father's voice. With a smile, the young girl ran down the dirt path to meet them.
She spotted her father first since he was taller. Katelin always thought he was the biggest and strongest man in the world, even if Henry said that Thibaud the smith was even taller. He was leading the old plow horse as it pulled the cart. Standing on top of the cart was Henry. Both boy and parent possessed brown hair while Katelin looked more like her mother with black hair. Both seemed a little tired from their day, though Henry seemed to have enough energy left to keep his balance on the moving cart.
Waving towards his approaching daughter, her father said, "Katelin. Did you decide to come meet us, my little starling?"
"Mama sent me," she said, nodding and holding the basket a little higher as she slowed down since she didn't want to scare the horse. "She said to give you this."
"That's right," he said with a look of remembrance. He stopped the plow horse as she drew near and continued, "I need to take that over to Betelgeuse this evening."
Katelin recognized that name, though she'd never seen the man that she could remember. When the whole family rode to the village on Sundays, sometimes she heard the other adults talking about all sorts of things. And sometimes they mentioned Betelgeuse. They all said different things. Some talked about how he never attended church, calling him a "heathen." Katelin didn't know what it meant, but it didn't sound nice. Others talked about his "blatant pursuit of women" and how much time he spent with "women with no morals," whatever that meant. Honestly, Katelin didn't understand a lot of what the other people in the village were talking about, but they certainly didn't seem to like Betelgeuse.
But Papa did. He liked Betelgeuse. She knew he was Papa's friend. Everyone said so. And even if Mama didn't seem to like him as much as Papa did, she didn't say mean things about Betelgeuse like other people and sometimes even seemed thankful for something he did. Like how Papa brought home a load of firewood the other day that he said Betelgeuse collected for him and left in the cart. So if Mama and Papa didn't think he was a bad person, then Katelin didn't either. Even if she hadn't met him yet, she was certain he couldn't be bad because her parents were always right.
"Do either of you want to go with me to drop this off?" her father asked after a moment, taking the offered basket from her. "Or do you want to help your mother finish supper?"
Henry frowned and shook his head. He was wearing an annoyed look on his face as he crossed his arms and tried to stand as tall as possible for a seven year old. He shared his name with Grandfather, though Katelin didn't get to meet Grandfather before he died. But she knew her older brother met him when he was very small. Henry did his best to live up to Grandfather's and Papa's examples of what a man should be like. And that meant being tall and strong.
"I don't want to visit him, Papa. Nobody likes him. Haven't you heard what everyone says about him?"
"Don't believe everything you hear about him in the village, Henry," their father scolded gently. "He has some rough edges and his father's legacy casts a shadow that never truly left him, but he's a good man who has lived a difficult life and always dealt with our family fairly."
"Well, I still don't want to go," grumbled Henry, his tone just shy of rebellious.
Taking a step closer, Katelin said, "I do. I want to meet him. Can I come with you, Papa?"
Smiling at his little girl, her father picked her up with one arm and placed her in the cart they used for everything from carrying away the weeds they pulled from around the smallest sprouts in spring to transporting the mature crops in autumn. Once she was comfortably settled on the cart, he helped Henry climb down.
"If you don't want to come with Katelin and me, you don't have to. I'm sure that you can help your mother in the meantime. Be good for her, Henry. We should be back soon."
"Be careful," Henry called, running back down the path towards home while their father turned the horse and cart back around.
Katelin sat patiently as the cart bounced and jolted across the countryside. Eventually they turned towards a less distinctive path, one that led in the opposite direction of the village. She watched curiously as they passed the green and lush fields, the colorful wildflowers, and the occasional tree rustling in the breeze. The birds continued to sing as they flitted overhead and insects buzzed somewhere in the grass. She loved watching the scenery passing by, seeing all the new sights. It was beautiful, even as they gradually headed down towards a forest filled with twisted and semi-stunted trees growing out of the increasingly boggy ground.
"He lives in there?" asked Katelin, peering towards the shadowy place the faint path seemed to head towards.
"He does," he said. "He works the fields around the forest as best he can, even with the marshy ground making it harder. He keeps a few goats and pigs closer to his house. He even has a pair of sheep. Betelgeuse might not have the best land, but he's probably the only man alive who could make it works as well as he does." Giving her a brief warning look, he added, "You have to be careful and stay on the path, though. It is easy to get lost or stuck in the muck. I used to come here for firewood even when I was a boy, but I never strayed too deeply."
The girl nodded her understanding as her father led the cart into the boggy forest. It didn't take long for it to grow dark, the trees blocking out the evening light quite effectively. Occasionally a few glimmers reached the twisting path, but it was mostly dim and confusing. She couldn't even see where the sun was, ensuring she couldn't figure out which direction she was facing. Katelin could see how easy it would be to stray off the drier section of the marshy place and become trapped in the mud or completely turned around.
After several minutes of traveling through the shadows, it finally began to lighten again. The reason for the change became clearer as they drew near. They'd reached a clearing in the woods, a section where the trees had been cut away and the sunlight could come through. The lord of the manor must have given permission to cut them down so the house could be built.
There were the normal three buildings that Katelin expected; the first for the grain, the second for the hay and straw, the third for Betelgeuse to live in. The house was about 20 feet wide and 80 feet in length, just like her home. It even had an attached "byre" to house the animals at night and for storage. There were three small windows along the wall, the thick shutters open at the moment to let in fresh air. It didn't have a chimney, though. There was a smoke hole in the thatch roof above, so would probably have an open fire pit instead.
But even with all the wood around them, no one could cut trees without Lord Bayard's permission. So only the frame of the house was made of wood, with some stone blocks for support to keep it from rotting away as fast in the boggy area. The spaces in the walls were filled with branches and twigs, caked together with mud, and the whole surface was then coated with a limestone wash to render them waterproof. Papa called it "wattle and daub" and said that almost everyone who wasn't nobility used it. She remembered him explaining it to Henry when they were doing repairs that spring. He said the wall was a frame with small vertical posts woven with smaller, flexible sticks to form a base for the daub. The woven frame was the wattle. The daub was then plastered on the wattle, inside and out. He also said that some people in other villages used "cob" instead on the walls, which was three parts chalk and one part clay mixed with straw.
Katelin didn't know what she expected of a house in the middle of a boggy forest that belonged to someone that lots of people didn't like, but she thought it would look different than the other houses. This one looked like a lot of the houses that were around the village, though. There was even a small vegetable garden like the one she picked beans from at home.
Bringing the plow horse and the cart to a stop, Papa carefully helped her down and head towards the door. Katelin kept close, curious to meet his friend. Maybe she would get to see why not many people in the village liked him.
Papa knocked on the door and she heard some kind of heavy thump inside, like something was accidentally kicked over. Then she heard a voice snarling something indistinctive and then swift rustling as someone hurried across the straw that would be scattered across the floor. Finally, the door opened and Katelin caught her first glimpse of Betelgeuse.
His hair was a lot lighter than anyone in her family. She'd seen a few people in the village with blond hair, but not as many as those with different shades of brown. He also looked kind of scruffy. His clothes were definitely old and wearing out. She could see places where the fabric was growing thin or where crooked stitches held together ragged holes. Mama would have replaced any clothes that looked like that already, but she remembered that he didn't have a mother or a wife to make and repair his clothing. He would have to buy and trade for the fabric and maybe even the sewing. It made Katelin feel a little sad that he didn't have someone to help take care of him.
"Galeren," he greeted her father, blinking in surprise. "I was just about to have supper. What brings you all the way out here?"
"My wife was baking yesterday and made an extra loaf of bread," said Papa. "And since you sent us that load of firewood last week, we thought you might like it."
"You and Agnes know I have enough rye to bake my own bread. I would have made it out there in a few days."
"We know, but she was already baking our bread anyway and we appreciated not having to gather that wood. This isn't charity because we think you can't earn your own way," he assured. "It is a trade for your help. You know it's a fair deal, Betelgeuse."
Katelin could see the man relax a little and nod. He even smiled a little.
"Your wife does have a talent at baking. And she's rather nice to look at."
"That's part of the reason I fell in love with her," Papa said, giving him a mischievous smile. "And speaking on the topic of lovely and wonderful women in our lives, have you seen Avelyn of late?"
Giving him a pained look, Betelgeuse said, "You know that nothing will come of it, so why do you ask?"
"Because someday you may choose to stop chasing every woman who crosses your path and actually pursue the only one you truly want. You've had your eye on any and every woman you encounter for years, like a ram in a field with an entire flock of ewes. I will not deny it. But time and time again, you speak to her differently than most. You continue to return your gaze towards Avelyn with a look that you do not use for anyone else."
"And what look would that be, Galeren?" he asked challengingly, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.
"It is the same look that I would see in my reflection when I was around Agnes," said Papa. "The one that you used to tease me about before I asked her father for permission to marry her."
Katelin watched the man's expressions change. At first, he looked amused and dismissive of Papa's words. Then they shifted to acknowledgement and frustration. Then he looked resigned and a little regretful.
"We both know that what you have in mind will never happen," Betelgeuse said. "Even now, I can only support myself some years. I cannot ask her."
"Betelgeuse, we have been friends for years. You know that I would help you with this if marrying Avelyn is what you truly want."
"No," he snapped. "No charity, Galeren. Not even from you. No matter how little I had at times, I've always been able to avoid that. The church may call it a sin, but I have some pride that I refuse to sacrifice. What I have, I've earned through my actions and my wits."
Sighing with regret, Papa said, "I understand. I wish that you would let me help you with this, but I do understand."
"Besides," he continued, "even if I should ever manage to gain enough to support and care for a wife properly, it would not work. With her father dead, I would have to ask Derrick's permission and he would not trust the sincerity of my offer. He would not let his sister marry someone like me. No man would."
"Why not, Goodman Betelgeuse?" asked Katelin, knowing she shouldn't interrupt and yet unable to stop herself. "You seem nice. I don't know why everyone says mean things about you."
Looking down at her in surprise, Betelgeuse remarked, "That's your daughter, Galeren? I didn't know she was already this big. How old is she now?"
"I'm four," she said proudly. "I'll be five this winter."
"She's been growing like a weed," said Papa. "She wanted to come with me this evening and meet you."
"She's a little on the pale side, Galeren. Has she been sick?" asked Betelgeuse, looking her over carefully.
"No, nothing like that. Katelin is just that way."
Betelgeuse nodded thoughtfully before kneeling down to her level and looking her in the eye. Katelin liked that. It was always easier to talk to people when she didn't have to stare all the way up at them. And it made it easier to know if they were listening to her.
"People don't like me for a lot of reasons, Lin," he said, shortening her name in a way that no one else did. "Some make sense. Other reasons are just pure nonsense. But I don't particularly care what most of the village thinks. Most of them have fewer brains than sheep. I'm not going to change their minds, so I won't bother. And I'm certainly not going to act different in an attempt to try. They don't have to like me."
"But you're nice and Papa likes you," she said. "And Papa said you want to marry Goodwoman Avelyn, but you said you can't because her brother doesn't like you. That's not fair."
"Life isn't always fair. And Derrick not liking me is only one of the reasons I can't marry her or anyone."
"So you'll never have a wife who'll marry you and cook and make clothes and take care of you?" she asked.
Shrugging his shoulders, Betelgeuse stood back up and said, "It seems to be that way, Lin. That doesn't mean I can't find company among women and enjoy their presence. I just can't afford to take care of a wife."
Katelin frowned at that. She carefully thought about the entire situation as Papa handed over the bread to Betelgeuse after a few more moments of conversation. It just seemed so sad to her. She liked Betelgeuse so far and thought he deserved a nice wife. But she couldn't help him marry Avelyn. She couldn't do much to help him at all. And she wished she could.
Staring at the man that almost everyone disliked, dressed in ragged clothes and living alone in a boggy forest, the little girl tried to think of even the smallest idea of how to make things better for him.
Agnes watched as her daughter worked patiently at the loom, Katelin completely focused on her work. She'd wanted to do it. She'd wanted to make it from start to finish and it was certainly skills she would need to learn anyway. And for the most part, Katelin was doing well for her first time. For the last several days, she'd worked at it. She was following her mother's directions and trying very hard to get everything right. Agnes just hoped her daughter wouldn't be disappointed in herself when it was finished.
Taking the raw wool and spinning it into yarn went fairly well, though there was a few sections that were a little lumpy or thicker the rest of the length. And weaving the yarn into cloth on the loom was going fairly well. It was mostly just following a simple pattern and Agnes could easily point out when she forgot or made a mistake so that Katelin could fix it. It was merely the step in the middle that didn't turn out exactly as she wanted.
She'd wanted to dye the yarn using woad, the flowering plant generally producing a nice shade of blue or indigo. But somehow during the process of dyeing and adding the mordant, the colors darkened and came out uneven. Agnes wasn't even certain how Katelin managed it. But by the time the yarn was finished dyeing, it varied randomly from the palest gray shade to an intense black all along the length. First attempts at any skill rarely turned out perfectly, but the woman didn't expect that particular result.
But Katelin didn't seem upset about it. After being surprised for a moment to see her chaotic dyeing job, she'd simply asked to learn how to weave it. Even when Agnes warned that it would probably look pretty messy when she was finished because of how the colors kept changing along the length at random, she wanted to proceed. And they couldn't simply waste the material anyway, so they continued forward with her project.
Still, Agnes couldn't help feeling curious about her child's abrupt determination to learn the skills to make clothing. The abruptness of her decision and how she'd stubbornly pursued it over time until her mother could teach her all the way through the lengthy process made the woman curious. Watching Katelin cautiously work the loom under her supervision, curiosity finally compelled her to ask about it.
"Katelin, my little starling, what is it you intend to make when you're done weaving?"
Pausing, she turned away from the loom and said, "A present, Mama. His clothes are all worn out and he doesn't have anyone to make him new ones. So I thought I could make him some."
He shouldn't care. It was bound to happen eventually. There was no reason to drag Lovell behind a building and beat his face to a bloody pulp, no matter how much he wanted to. It wasn't even as if he'd asked permission to marry Avelyn yet. They were just spending more time together and he bought her a little trinket from one of the traveling merchants. That didn't mean they were engaged. Besides, she liked the tailor, her brother and his wife liked the tailor, and her mother liked the tailor. Practically everyone in the village liked the tailor. And Lovell would be a good husband and a good provider to Avelyn if he ever decided to marry her. It was probably the best prospect she could ever hope for. Betelgeuse knew he should be happy for her. At least one of them should be able to get married someday.
Betelgeuse tried his best to put the news out of his mind and focused on his task. One of his sheep had wandered off. Unlike the goats and pigs, they couldn't wander around near the forest eating whatever random thorny and leafy plant they found. Sheep prefer grass, so he had to turn them loose further away during the day. And occasionally that meant they moved out of sight by the time he was ready to herd them back in the evening. He didn't have a lot of animals to spare, so he had to find it before some wild animal or greedy neighbor decided to snag it.
This particular sheep was either dumber or smarter than the others. She'd apparently traveled quite a distance in search of the perfect grazing ground, forcing Betelgeuse to walk further and further in search. In truth, it was fairly annoying. If the creature's wool wasn't so necessary for him to earn enough coins to make it through the upcoming winter, she would probably be facing a future as mutton far sooner than expected.
"Goodman Betelgeuse," a young voice called abruptly.
"That was probably not the sheep I'm looking for," he muttered to himself, glancing around in search of the source of the voice.
He quickly spotted the small, black-haired, and pale girl running towards him with something in her arms. He hadn't realized his search had brought him so near Galeren's home, but he recognized his daughter as she hurried towards him. Betelgeuse didn't, however, know what the child wanted.
"Goodman Betelgeuse," she repeated as she drew near and came to a stop. "I saw you when I was feeding the chickens for Mama. I was afraid you'd leave before I got here."
"Apparently I'm not that fast, Lin," said Betelgeuse. "Have you seen a sheep around here? I'm looking for one of mine."
The girl shook her head and looked rather apologetic. He wasn't exactly sure why since it wasn't her fault the animal got the idea in her fool head to wander off.
Then Katelin asked, "Do you want me to help you look?"
While mildly surprised by the offer, Betelgeuse answered gently, "No, your mother and father would probably get worried if you disappeared on them without a word. I can find her myself."
She nodded in understanding and he thought that might be the end of the conversation. But then she apparently decided to address whatever issue it was that prompted her to come running across the countryside after him.
"I made you a present, Goodman Betelgeuse," she said, thrusting her burden up towards him eagerly.
He was startled enough by her actions to grab the object before it fell to the ground without even thinking. Only after he already had it in his hands did he actually look at what she brought.
It was a thick woolen mantle, but certainly different than the thread-worn and fraying one that he owned already. The stitches were clumsy and uneven things while the coloration was startling. Rather than a solid color, the weaving varied from a deep black to shades of gray that could almost be mistaken for white. And even if there was no predictable and coherent pattern to when and where the colors shifted, the way the cloth was woven almost made it looked like stripes that ran across it. They weren't symmetrical or uniform stripes, but it at least made the piece of clothing a little less chaotic.
This was not the work of a skilled and practiced hand. The girl clearly made it. And considering her age, this was probably her first effort at making clothing. She'd made the thick woolen mantle and chose to give it to him for some reason.
"Are you sure that you want me to have this?" he asked slowly. "Not your father?"
She nodded and said, "Mama makes clothes for Papa, Henry, and me. You don't have wife to make them and I won't have a husband until I'm older, so I thought I could make it for you. It's a present."
He didn't take charity. He didn't need to accept the scraps of others in order to survive. He could take care of himself. He'd done it his whole life.
But she didn't intend for it to be charity and it seemed to be fairly sturdy, even if the appearance was a little strange. And just because she was offering it with no thoughts of anything in return did not mean he couldn't turn it into a deal regardless.
Kneeling down to her level, Betelgeuse said, "I'll make a bargain with you, Lin. Anything that you might make while learning the crafts of being a woman, whether that might be weaving or cooking or any other skill, and if you do not wish to keep or give them to your family, you may give them to me. Anything you make that you do not want you can give to me. And in return, when you grow older and start searching for a husband, I will make certain that any boy who approaches you is respectful and considerate. And if you don't like him, I'll scare him off before your father has to do it. Boys can be trouble for pretty young ladies when they forget to listen. If they do not understand the word 'no,' I'll remind them of the meaning. Does that seem fair?"
She looked mildly confused by his offer. Betelgeuse didn't blame her. It would take her some time to learn that not all young men were happy about the ideas of boundaries. And no matter what some of the villagers might think about his enjoyment of the company of various women, he never went too far unless she agreed. Some men didn't and the poor young girls were often treated as if they were the ones to blame. Galeren and probably her brother would help ensure Katelin avoided such a fate as she grew up, but it never hurt to have another pair of eyes keeping watch. And Betelgeuse would know better who to be cautious of when the time came.
"So does that mean you like it?" asked Katelin finally.
To answer her question, Betelgeuse stood back up and slipped off his old and worn-out woolen mantle. Then he handed the girl the old one so he could put on the one she made him. True, it still looked a little strange to wear the striped piece of clothing. He'd likely get a few stares the next time he went to the village. But since when did he care what anyone thought about him?
Disease was sweeping across the land like a fire, burning away anyone it encountered. No one could stop it. Prayers against the sickness were uttered in churches until fewer and fewer people attended. The crops remain untended in the fields as more and more people fell beneath the sway of the illness. Neighbors, families, and friends were cut down, leaving entire households and even entire villages practically deserted.
It was worse in the larger towns and cities where it was so easy to see so many bodies being carried out in carts. He'd heard the stories from the fleeing travelers, hoping to get ahead of the disease that was killing so many. There were tales of bodies left in their homes, unburied and their souls not prayed for, simply because there were not enough people left alive or the few survivors were too frightened to return for their loved ones. The air often stank with the smell of sickness, death, and rot. Fear gripped the people as tightly as the disease itself. There were whispers and even shouts that this was the end of days.
The illness was so swift and so deadly. It came with dark buboes, fever, and vomiting of blood. Those who were struck by the disease were often dead within a week, followed quickly by the others of the household. It was horrifying and frightening to behold. From the poorest serf to the nobility hidden behind stone walls, no one was truly safe.
And now it had ensnared Agnes.
Galeren knew what was coming the moment she fell ill, the same sickness that was raging through the village like an inferno. He just didn't want to admit that his beautiful wife was already lost. And he would not be like some of those cowardly spouses who fled in the hope of escaping the same fate. He'd promised to stand by her side, through all of life's challenges. If that meant taking care of her while hoping the pestilence did not kill her and risking the disease himself, then so be it.
But he could not risk his ten year old son and seven year old daughter suffering the same fate. If they remained in the household with their ill mother, he feared they would become equally stricken by the disease. So regretting having to leave Agnes' side for even a moment, he'd gathered his children and hurried them out the door. Galeren took them far from their home and away from the village filled with the sickness. He took them to the one person he trusted above all others.
"Betelgeuse," he called desperately, banging on the door with his fist. "Betelgeuse. Betelgeuse."
The door flung open, the man stumbling out with a look of surprise and concern. Obviously Galeren's voice betrayed the severity of the situation well enough.
"What is it? What's wrong?" asked Betelgeuse, looking from the man to the children and back.
"Agnes has fallen victim to the pestilence," he said, forcing himself to keep his voice steady. "I know this is a lot to ask—"
"Whatever it is, you can have it," interrupted Betelgeuse.
"I cannot leave her. She is my wife and I will not leave her alone to face this sickness. But I need my children to be safe. Please, I know what I am asking is more than you owe me, but can you take care of my children?"
Galeren's pleading expression was met with a look of sad understanding. He knew perfectly well what the man was asking. He knew that the hope that so many clung to was a fraying and fragile thing. He understood that Galeren was not truly asking him to watch over the children for a few days or a week.
Betelgeuse nodded solemnly and said, "I'll do it. I'll take care of them. I'll protect them. I won't let anything happen to your children. You have my word."
The man felt a brief wave of relief wash over him. Betelgeuse may have many flaws, but he always kept his word. He always kept his deals and he always kept his promises. No matter what else might happen, Henry and Katelin would be safe and cared for. That was all Galeren could hope for now.
"I don't want to stay with him, Father," said Henry, looking up at him stubbornly. "I want to stay with you and Mother."
"You can't," he said, kneeling down to look his boy in the eye. Holding his shoulders firmly, Galeren said, "You and your sister need to stay here and be good. Do what Betelgeuse tells you to do, just as you would for me or your mother. And take care of your sister."
"We'll be good, Father," said Katelin, walking over to Betelgeuse obediently with only the smallest worried frown on face.
She'd always seemed to like the man more than her brother. He'd listened to too many stories from around the village and let that color his judgment. But she'd seemed to have decided that since Betelgeuse had no one to look after him, she would do so. The man even still wore the striped mantle she made him when first learning how to make clothing. She would be just fine. And maybe she could help her brother adapt to what Galeren feared the future held.
"You'll come back for us soon, right?" asked Henry.
He didn't want to lie. He didn't want to lie to them, but he also didn't want to say his fears aloud.
Saving him from having to make a decision, Betelgeuse said, "He'll be back when your mother is well again. Until then, we'll find a way to manage on our own. I'm certain we can make it work."
Giving his friend a grateful smile, Galeren quickly reached for his children and gave them a tight hug. His son seemed surprised by the abrupt action, but Katelin returned the embrace instantly. She was always an observant girl. She saw things others tended to miss. If either of his children had their suspicions, it would be her.
Standing up, Galeren hurriedly hugged his friend and whispered, "Thank you."
"I'll keep them safe," Betelgeuse promised as he finally pulled away.
Knowing that he needed to return to Agnes, he turned and hurried down the path while blinking back tears. He still held the smallest ember of hope, but it wasn't enough to completely banish his fears. His chest tightened painfully as he walked away. Galeren knew he would probably never see any of them again.
So there's the Black Death finally sweeping across England, which means it is 1348 AD. And since I stated previously that Betelgeuse died in 1352, that means he's getting closer to his eventual death. Hopefully the next chapter will be the last flashback-y type chapter about Betelgeuse's life before he became the Ghost With The Most (though with my luck, it'll run too long…)
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