Chapter 22 The Plague
When Misara saw the shop keeper’s wife and how sick she was, something held her back from praying for her recovery. The death of Master Ladris and her inability to heal him still haunted her. She was afraid to try and fail once more. Her faith had weakened considerably since that evening in Hedak. She tried to discern the cause of her waning power. Was it her growing confusion about the new and old gods? Or was it these strange feelings she began to experience whenever she was in Beret’s presence? She pondered these questions over and over. In the end, all she could do was surrender to inevitability and accept that the shop keeper’s wife was dying.
Kort attempted to examine the dying woman where she lay. The shop keeper was beside her and seemed completely distraught. Kort saw that the woman’s arm had vein-like marks that seemed to cover most of her body.
“I have not seen any sickness like this before,” Kort said.
“Could you tell us anything that may have been the cause of your wife’s illness?” Kort asked the shop keeper.
The shop keeper slowly turned his head towards Kort and spoke in a despondent voice.
“We did nothing out of the ordinary,” the shop keeper said. “We went about our usual
routine each day. My wife would go to the new temple in town just before dusk.”
Misara noticed Durem’s reaction to the shop keeper’s statement. Durem looked at Misara and then at Kort.
“How long has your wife been a follower of Balkir?” Durem asked the shop keeper.
“Over a year now, I believe,” The shop keeper replied.
“I’d like to visit the town center,” Kort said. “Who wants to come with me?”
Durem looked at Misara momentarily before he finally spoke. “I do. Maybe we can pay a visit to this temple.”
“Agreed,” Kort said.
Misara felt she needed some answers herself. So she volunteered to go with them.
As the three of them rode into the town center, she observed that fewer people were on the roads.
“This is odd,” Durem said.
“Yes. There seems to be less people outside,” Misara replied.
As they traveled down the town’s main road, they chanced upon a store that sold pottery. The owner was outside and appeared to be closing up his store. The man had a concerned look and seemed to be in a hurry to finish what he was doing.
Kort motioned to Misara and Durem to halt. He then dismounted his horse and approached the merchant.
“Good day to you,” Kort said to the merchant. “Isn’t it rather early for shops to be closing at this time?”
Misara looked at the merchant as they waited for him to reply. The merchant stopped what he was doing and faced them.
“My son is very sick,” the merchant said. “I have to go home and look after him.”
Misara and the others exchanged glances. “Why, what is the matter with your son?” Kort asked.
“He has had a fever since last night,” the merchant answered. “And it was only this morning when we discovered that something was spreading on his skin.”
Misara looked at Kort with alarm. The merchant’s son could be suffering from the same illness as the shopkeeper’s wife, she thought.
“I do not mean to be rude,” the merchant said. “But I have to hurry back.”
The merchant finished closing up his store and walked down the road disappearing into a corner street.
“If it is the same sickness then many already have it,” Durem said.
“Then it is no wonder why the streets appear deserted,” Misara added.
“I’d like to see this temple you mentioned,” Kort said to Durem.
Misara nodded in agreement. They may find some answers there, she thought.