The Black Death (A Medieval Action/Romance)

2nd Epilogue

2nd Epilogue

1401AD

"He's not going, Eve!" Henry shouted.

Eve winced at the force of her brother's voice.

Henry realised he had hurt his sister and bowed his head, "I told you before," He continued in a soft whisper, "he won't survive the journey."

Eve looked over her brother's shoulder at the house where her father was resting inside. It was true, their father was old but he was stronger than Henry could see.

"But you know he will want to go," Eve stared at the letter that was scrunched up in her brother's hand.

Reaching out, she saved the parchment from her brother's resentment and smoothed out the fabric so that the words were eligible once more.

The letter had arrived a few weeks earlier by courier and it had been the main topic of their disputes ever since, as well as a few arguments over whose turn it was to wash their father.

"He doesn't know what he wants," Henry sighed, "He does not even know the date! He called you 'Izzie' again the other day," Henry pointed out, "We do not even know an 'Izzie'."

"Obviously, it was someone he used to know," Eve bit her lip, unable to deny to her brother that the incident had occurred.

It had not happened for a while and after the first time Eve had tried to ask her father who this 'Izzie' woman was but he refused to speak of her.

All Eve could assume was that the lady had hurt her father in some way, but Eve did not like to think of that.

"It would be nicer if he was thinking of our mother rather than some strange woman we've never met," Henry snapped, remembering their mother who had died a few years previous.

Eve looked at the letter, trying to keep the thoughts of her mother at bay, and her eyes gravitated towards the name at the bottom of the letter.

It was signed with the name 'Thomas'.

"It says the letter is from his friend, look," Eve thrust the letter in front of her brother's face, "It's signed 'your friend, Thomas'. Do you not think that our father would want to see his friend?"

"Where was this friend when our father first got sick?" Henry pushed the letter aside, "He isn't going Eve, and that is my decision."

"But. . ." Eve started to argue but Henry simply gave her his back as he strode back into the house.

Folding the letter carefully, Eve slipped it into the pocket of her apron before she followed her brother inside to prepare their father's meal.

Stepping up onto the porch, her boots clicked against the floor as she pushed the wooden door open and placed a smile upon her lips to greet her father with but when she turned she found that his armchair was empty.

Her heart felt as if it had dropped a few inches into her stomach at the sight of her father being missing but then she heard her brother behind her and she turned to see Henry helping their father back across the room.

He was a frail man of nearly eighty years but, in some way, Eve could still see the strength in his limbs as he pushed Henry off of him and claimed he could walk by himself.

As she watched her father, she saw that he had substituted his walking stick for the broad sword that he had kept over the fireplace for so many years.