The Wolf and the Snake (English version)

Chapter 28

A physician is the silent witness of many torments, but one day he may find himself among the unfortunates suffering the awful effects of diseases.

It was the case of Simon, my father, and it's mine today.

More than any other, a physician fears being struck down by disease. So I cling to the idea that my youth is my best asset. Yet I have seen so many children, young girls, and strong men die from dreaded illnesses leaving patients bedridden, their throats so sore that they can't swallow anything and can hardly breathe.

I'm like in a fog, but there's a stranger. He has a small stature, with dark skin and hair. He never stops forcing me to drink disgusting-tasting potions with an ugly earthy color.

"Come on," he murmurs. "Take my remedies without losing a drop! His Grace wants you to get well."

Most of the time, I sink into a restless sleep.

Again, I'm over that dangerous cliff. Then it disappears to make way for the large building. I find myself inside with my heart pounding, and just like the other time, the soldiers are wallowing with prostitutes. Some girls dance half-naked, voluptuously shaking the generous curves of their bodies to decide those of the soldiers who haven't yet given in to their charms.

Reyn is in my dream, too.

He's sitting, watching the show with that icy expression he had before he turned his back on me. But, alas, his gaze lingers on a kind of living creeper, a mixture of a woman and a panther.

I scream so much the scene is unbearable.

I run out of breath, fleeing the atrocious vision, and end up in front of a heavy door. I don't want to go back, seeing my husband's beautiful eyes contemplating a prostitute.

I know the door will close on me as soon as I pass it. However, I move with a determined step towards the bed entirely covered with golden sheets. A man stands next to the bed and beckons me to come closer. He's very tall. Vermin, like that of a corpse, devour his face. Suddenly he raises his arm slowly, and terrifying whip whistles in the air.

Bernard of Congast!

Its hideous face has a vile rictus, telling me the monster rises from hell to take revenge. He tries to seize me, and my hands struggle desperately against him when a violent coughing fit wakes me up.

"Drink that!" the stranger recommends while pouring a bitter liquid between my lips.

"Poppy," I say weakly, recognizing this particular smell. "How long have you been giving it to me? I mustn't be used to it..."

Exhausted, I couldn't finish my sentence, but the man understood my concern.

"You've been taking them for two weeks! That's not enough time to become addicted, and poppy is essential to combat coughing."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Faragio," he announced gently. "I'm the physician of His Grace! I come from Sicily."

Another coughing fit prevents me from answering him, and he gives me an extra dose of poppy.

But, alas, fever seized me with the violence of a possessive and jealous lover. Imprisoned in my delirium, I pronounce some words while Faragio refreshes my burning forehead. "The angel of death! He will take me away forever! I wasted the life offered on the Nile."

"You have to fight," the physician whispers. "Do you know that somewhere there's a city where the angel of death can't enter? So the inhabitants reaching a venerable age must finally cross its walls to finish their life."

"A fabulous city! My father told me about it once, when he was still of this world."

"Then your father was a Jew, just like me," Faragio confesses.

A few days later, the Sicilian physician is happy to see that he has also chased the angel of death away. I'm much better, but the count's arrival spoiled my joy at regaining my health.

"By fear of a possible contagion, I had to prevent several times His Grace from visiting you," Faragio explains before slipping away discreetly.

Charles burst into the room with luxurious gifts: a cloak lined with ermine and a scarf of white silk studded with precious stones.

I scan the presents of the count with a dark look, and he seems not to see it.

"I left Digne as soon as I was informed of your condition," he announces, taking my hand familiarly. "And I offer you this cloak and this scarf, so you don't catch a cold anymore!"

I hasten to remove my fingers from his grip, repulsed by his touch.

"I understand that you're angry with me," he sighs. "It's because of me that you got sick. The hallways of my palace are freezing at this time of year."

His saddened face terrifies me as much as his violence and unhealthy obsession. It sounds like he doesn't even know I'm married and how much I hate him.

I immediately remind him of Reyn's existence.

"Did my husband know about my illness? Because it's planned that he finds me a place to live in Marseille!"

"The seneschal is very busy! The burghers of Marseille are fomenting an alliance with some barons against me," the count replies briefly, "the city is far from being safe."

He abruptly leaves the room with a closed face, and I don't know if Reyn has been informed of my condition.

But I doubt it very much.

***