A Collection of Stories

Deed & Debt

His Lordship walked back and forth, muttering incomprehensible words to himself and casting wild eyes between the large double doors and the dim passageway which led down the hall. Two of his best men stood on either side of the door, watching him pace like a trapped animal while the third man stood an arms-length away. He cleared his throat.

"Sire—"

"Speak nothing if it is of no importance!" said his Lordship, spinning in his direction.

The man held his peace for a moment.

"My Lord... the people require an answer—"

"The people! The people?! We need a doctor, you idiot! And only the best will do!"

"But, sire, the best doctors in the land have already seen her. There's nothing they can do."

"Silence! Speak nothing to me unless it is of a knowledgeable doctor." He turned away and marched up to the doors and threw them open.

Incense perfumed the grand room while candles and lanterns burned brightly. The tapestried walls cast gloomy shadows of battles won and lost and the ceiling portrayed singing and dancing maidens bringing water from the well. The great four-poster bed with its richly embroidered Egyptian silk sheets and smooth emerald-like curtains stood out against the sad look of the chamber. In this bed lay a frail woman with skin that matched the paleness of milk and lips like the grey of the sky when a storm's brewing; rings of death encircled her once cheerful brown eyes with a bluish blush. She held out a thin hand.

"Darling..."

He took it gently in his own. "Yes, my love?"

"You mustn't be so cross with Emillio..."

"Hush, hush, my flower. You're weak; the doctor will be here soon."

She took a long breath.

"No... I'm out of time, darling. I can feel it."

"Florencine! Speak not such cruel words in my hearing. I cannot bear it".

With an effort, she smiled.

"You can bear anything, my love. You are my king of courage."

He shook his head.

"I will get you a doctor."

"Saph..."

"My lord?"

"What?!"

Emillio cleared his throat and bowed to her ladyship. "An old hag wishes to see you."

"Send her away. There is no place for beggars at such a time as this."

"Darling..." his wife whispered.

"She's persistent, my lord."

"Send her away, Emillio!"

"She professes to have a cure for her Ladyship, sire."

"Why did you not start with that, you fool? Bring her in at once!"

His Lordship stepped outside the room to receive the woman.

She bowed, putting a wrinkled hand on her lower back as she did.

"My lord, who reigns as high as the sun; the highest of all lands and the greatest of the line of Ral'saphmor."

"You profess yourself to be a doctor, good woman?"

"Doctor? Me? What fiddle-faddle! Not I, no."

"And so, you possess not a cure for the queen?"