Dissolution

'Poor, good girl. I warned her of the danger here…' He began to cry, retching sobs turning into another fit of coughing that looked ready to shake his thin frame apart. I turned to Alice.

'What does he mean?' I asked sharply. 'What has he warned you of?'
Her face was clouded with puzzlement. 'I don't understand, sir. He has never warned me of anything. I have barely spoken to him before today.'
I looked at Brother Guy. He seemed equally puzzled. He studied the boy anxiously.
'He is very ill, Commissioner. He should be left to rest now.'
'No, Brother, I must question him some more. Have you any idea what he meant there?'
'No, sir. I know no more than Alice.'
I moved closer to the bed and bent over the boy.
'Master Whelplay, tell me what you mean. Alice says you have given her no warning—'
'Alice is good,' he croaked. 'Dulce and gentle. She must be warned—' He began coughing again, and Brother Guy stepped firmly between us.
'I must ask you to leave him now, Commissioner. I thought talking to you might ease him, but he is delirious. I must give him a potion to make him sleep.'
'Please, sir,' Alice added, 'for charity. You can see how ill he is.'
I drew away from the boy, who seemed to have collapsed into an exhausted stupor. 'How ill is he?' I asked.
The infirmarian set his lips. 'Either the fever will break soon, or it will kill him. He should not have been treated so,' he added angrily. 'I have made a complaint to the abbot; he will be coming to see the lad in the morning. Prior Mortimus has gone too far this time.'
'I must find out what he meant. I will come again tomorrow and I want to be told at once if his condition worsens.'
'Of course. Now pray excuse me, sir, I must prepare some herbs—'
I nodded, and he left. I smiled at Alice, trying to seem reassuring.
'A strange business,' I said. 'You have no idea what he meant? First he said he had warned you, then that he must do so.'
'He has said nothing to me, sir. When we brought him in he slept a little, then as his fever rose he started asking for you.'
'What could he mean by saying Singleton was not the first?'
'On my oath, sir, I do not know.' There was anxiety in her voice. I turned to her and spoke gently.
'Do you feel you could be in danger from any source, Alice?'
'No, sir.' Her face reddened and I was surprised at the degree of anger and contempt that came into her face. 'I have had approaches from certain monks from time to time, but I deal with them with the aid of Brother Guy's protection and my own wits. That is a nuisance, not a danger.'
I nodded, struck once more by the strength of her personality.
'You are unhappy here?' I asked quietly.
She shrugged. 'It is a post. And I have a good master.'
'Alice, if I can help you or there is anything you want to tell me, please come to me. I would not like to think of you in danger.'
'Thank you, sir. I am grateful.' Her tone was guarded; she had no reason to trust me any more than the monks. But perhaps she would unwind to Mark. She turned back to her patient, who had begun tossing in his fever, threatening to throw off the bedclothes.
'Goodnight then, Alice.'
She was still trying to settle the novice, and did not look up. 'Goodnight, sir.'
I made my way back up the freezing corridor. Stopping at a window, I saw the snow had ceased at last. It lay deep and unbroken, glowing white under a full moon. Looking out on that wasteland broken by the black shapes of the ancient buildings, I felt as trapped and isolated in Scarnsea as though I stood in the moon's own empty caverns.
CHAPTER 10

When I woke I did not at first know where I was. Daylight of unaccustomed brightness cast a leached white light over an unfamiliar room. Then I remembered all and slowly sat up. Mark, who had fallen asleep again by the time I returned from my talk with the novice, had already risen; he had banked up the fire and stood in his hose, shaving at a ewer of steaming water. Through the window bright sunlight was reflected from the snow that lay thick everywhere, dotted here and there with birds' footprints.
'Good morning, sir,' he said, squinting at his features in an old brass mirror.

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