《The Crows and the Plague》The Iron Medal

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"You three find Ivette. I'll bury Levanna in the wilderness outside town."

Giradin didn't think much about Fulk's command when he gave it. The murderer left Kinhan out the front gates, carrying Levanna's body, wrapped in sack cloth, as he went.

Once Fulk was far from sight, and the three remaining plague doctors were left standing outside the inn, Mu whispered, "Why do you think he's lying to us?"

Shlomo shrugged. "I just hope he's thinking with his head rather than his loins."

"What do you mean?" Giradin asked. "What's he lying to us about?"

Mu's beak turned to Giradin. "You haven't thought it through yet, have you? We told the villagers here that the charred corpse outside the late Teebald's home was that of a man with plague, and that Levanna drank poison rather than risk spreading the plague, aye?"

"Aye," said Giradin, still confused.

"So, why not burn Levanna's body too, just to be safe?" Mu asked. "For that matter, why not turn her body over to the villagers, allow them to bury her?"

Giradin's eyes widened behind his lenses. "Wait... and Shlomo said he... that comment about loins... is Fulk going to... to take advantage of a dead woman?"

Mu shuddered.

Shlomo chuckled. "Fulk's done some pretty terrible things, but nothing that bad. As far as I know."

Mu shook his head. "The dark places your mind goes, Giradin... No, he's not going to make with her corpse..." Mu looked back and forth, as if to ensure that no one was close enough to listen in. As usual, the townspeople gave the plague doctors a wide berth. Mu leaned closer to Giradin and whispered, "Because she's still alive."

Giradin stammered for a moment. "What? She looked dead as a..."

While Giradin struggled to think of an analogy, Mu continued, "Imp's Kiss isn't a poison, it's a drug one takes when one intends to fake death. One dose and even the best physician in the world will declare you dead." Mu turned his lenses toward the city gates. "Fulk must have known I'd know that too... I brewed and sold drugs for ten years."

For a moment, Giradin felt a swell of relief in his soul that the witch was not dead after all. "But... what's he doing with her, then?"

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"Letting her go," Shlomo muttered, "I assume."

"Do you suppose he's going to..." Giradin couldn't bring himself to say the words. Something between jealousy and disgust formed a lump in his throat at the very thought.

"He might," said Shlomo.

Mu shook his head. "I don't think Fulk would take that kind of risk. He didn't seem to really trust her. He's probably just letting her go because she'd proven helpful, and he hopes she will again in the future."

Shlomo snorted. "I'm sure like most men he's not thinking of his dick at all..."

Mu grunted. "Whatever the case, we'll have to worry about it later. For now, we have a job to do. Find Ivette."

Shlomo tilted his head to one side and held the chin of his mask in his gloved hand. "I wonder if the people here will be more likely to help us or less after what we did last night..."

"The children will help," Giradin said. "I know that much. Now that the vampire's gone."

Shlomo nodded. "See if you can find them. We'll meet up here again in half an hour."

The three plague doctors parted ways, walking the filthy streets of Kinhan again. As Giradin made his way through the city, he saw far more suspicious gazes cast his way than before. Every time he passed two or more people gathered to talk, they would lean in closer to each other and whisper secrets, all the while keeping one eye on him.

A dog barked furiously, and Giradin's seax appeared in his hand in an instant. When he saw the beast, the hound stood on the end of a long chain, spittle flying from its lips with each thunderous bark.

"Easy boy!" came a voice from nearby, and a man with a scraggly beard and strong arms seized the dog's leash and pulled. "Leave the doctor alone!"

Giradin gave a sigh of relief, but soon noticed the fearful glances of the other townspeople nearby, their eyes locked on the weapon in his hand. His skin felt as if thousands of tiny thorns danced against it, threatening to draw his blood if he moved too quickly. He sheathed the seax again and gave an apologetic shrug, wishing he could tell them all about the last time he heard a dog bark that furiously.

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His embarrassment and fear gave way to hope, however, when he saw the little girl who'd told him about Teebald. She looked up at him with a grateful smile, and he walked over to greet her.

"You killed the vampire!" she said with a giddy giggle.

"We did," said Giradin. "You should be safe at night now."

The girl shook her head. "We'll never really be safe. People are often worse than monsters."

"True... well... at least you're a little safer," said Giradin.

The girl nodded. "True. You wanted to know where Bethia and her mother live, right?"

"Yes," said Giradin. "If you'd be so kind, I really need that information."

The girl held up both her arms. "I'm Bethia."

Giradin blinked twice. "You? You were Bethia the whole time?"

The girl giggled. "No, I'm only Bethia now. Yesterday I was Jane. Yes! I was Bethia the whole time, silly!"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Giradin asked.

The little girl rolled her eyes. "I didn't want to."

Giradin groaned. "Where's your mother? We need to speak with her too."

The little girl pointed to a house on the corner, two doors down from Teebald's home.

Giradin nodded. "Very well. Hurry home and tell your mother we're coming with a gift for her. We'll be there soon."

The little girl ran off to her home while Giradin sought out his commrades.

"Glad someone is being helpful," Mu said. "Everyone else here's telling us... well, they're turning us away and they're not being kind about it."

The three of them approached Ivette's home together. It was one of the smaller houses, made from wooden beams nailed together with a thatch-roof. Giradin knocked on the door, and after a few moments it swung open to reveal a skinny woman who stood no taller than Giradin's chest. Her blond hair she kept up in a head scarf, and her otherwise beautiful face was marred only by a wart on her left cheek. Bethia hid behind the woman's linen skirt, smiling up at the three Crows.

"Ivette, I presume?" said Giradin.

"Yes," said the woman. Bethia bounded away, into the house.

"May we come in?" asked Giradin.

Ivette peered past them, at her neighbors. When Giradin turned his head to see what had caught her eye, he beheld three men standing by one of the houses nearby. All three men had their arms folded and shook their heads at Giradin and the other plague doctors.

"Umm... y-yes..." Ivette stammered, "Please come in."

The three doctors entered her home. For a moment, it was too dark for Giradin to see anything, but his eyes soon adjusted to the shadows. A black pot beside the fireplace bubbled with a yellow stew filled with chunks of what appeared to be root vegetables. In the back corner there lay two straw beds, one far smaller than the other. Bethia sat on an open patch of floor, quietly playing with dolls made of straw and clay.

Ivette stood with her back leaning against the far wall. "How can I help you?" she asked.

"We come bearing a gift for you," said Mu. "Well, an inheritance, actually."

"Inheritance?" Ivette said. "I... I have no living relatives..."

"Not anymore you don't!" said Shlomo with a chuckle.

"Shlomo!" Giradin chastised.

Mu ignored both of them and produced the small chest from inside his coat. "A man named Sir Bertran was a member of our order. His last wish was that we give this to you. We haven't opened it."

Ivette's face looked even more confused than before. "Sir Bertran?" she took the chest. "I've never heard of..." she stopped short after she opened the chest and looked inside. Though Giradin could not see what lay inside, the mix of gold and silver light reflected on Ivette's shocked face told him all he needed to know.

Ivette reached into the chest and produced an iron medal with a cross etched onto either side. As she gazed upon it, tears filled her eyes and a tortured smile took its place on her lips. "He... he forgave me... after all this time..."

Bethia glanced up from her dolls, a look of confusion on her face.

Ivette stared down at whatever treasures lay in the box, a smile on her lips and tears forming in her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, closed it again, bit her lip, and finally just whispered, "Thank you."

Mu nodded to Ivette. "Well, with that our work here is done. Thank you for your time."

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