Вилорп

→I'm not certain. Any case of the winter malady breaking out in a public building should be reported to the local Prefect's office. Unfortunately the Prefect can then impose a quarantine. If Gurd reports Kaby's illness to Prefect Drinius he's liable to see the Avenging Axe shut for at least a week, and that's a lot of business to lose. He could just keep quiet about it, which is fine if Kaby recovers and no one learns of it. But if the Prefect discovers what's happened, there'll be trouble.

→"What'll I do?" asks Gurd.

→"Couldn't tell. The malady always looks bad at the start."

→"How bad is she?"

→Palax does as I say. He has some difficulty carrying Kaby but I don't offer to help. I've had the winter malady before and it's commonly believed this makes a man less liable to get it again, but I don't feel like taking the risk. The disease isn't usually fatal but it's unpredictable. There have been times when it's struck with unusual ferocity. People can die from it. I drink some klee then go downstairs to tell Gurd the bad news in private. Gurd is alarmed.

→"No. She's young and strong. She'll be better in a few days. Now get her out of here and along to the guest room. I'll get the healer."

→"Is she going to die?" asks Palax, looking quite desperate.

→"Palax. Pick up Kaby and take her to the empty guest room at the end of the corridor. Keep her warm with a blanket and give her water and nothing else. Don't leave the room and don't let anyone else in. The malady spreads quickly and if anyone else comes near they'll catch it."

→Kaby suddenly sneezes. I step back quickly. The winter malady is not quite as deadly as the summer plague, but it's bad enough. As the city is so crowded I wouldn't be surprised if we were in for an epidemic. Kaby begins to shake, quite violently.

→"I know," says Palax. "I think she's going to die."

→"She's got the winter malady," I say.

→I look more closely at the girl. Her face is red, she's shivering, and sweat is glistening on her forehead. It's obvious what's wrong. I'd have noticed right away had it not been for the unusual potency of Lisutaris's green thazis.

→"She hasn't take dwa. She's sick."

→Dwa, a powerful drug, has been the bane of the city in recent years.

→"Didn't I tell you dwa would kill you?"

→"We need help," says Palax, anxiously. I notice that Kaby is trembling. I scowl at them.

→There are some strange noises outside my inner door, the one that leads down to the bar. Normally I'd be annoyed at such an early interruption to my day but I wander over genially and drag the door open. Out in the corridor I find Palax and Kaby, two young street musicians. There was a time when I'd have been displeased to see them because the young couple are not what you'd call your standard citizens of Turai. They affect the strangest clothes and hairstyles and have facial piercings never seen before in the city, and they live in a caravan which they park behind the tavern. Not the sort of behaviour to endear themselves to the average Turanian, including me. However, I've grown used to them these days, and I've enjoyed some good nights in the Avenging Axe when they've been playing their lute and fiddle.

→Next morning I wake feeling more cheerful than I have for weeks. Even the prospect of food shortages can't dim the enthusiasm of a man who's got eight bottles of the Grand Abbot's Dark Ale waiting for his attention. I'm tempted to open one for breakfast but I restrain myself, with an effort. I should wait till I return from guard duty and savour the brew when I'm warm and comfortable. I decide to make do with a little of Lisutaris's thazis instead, and construct a stick of modest size. As I inhale, the world, already not looking so bad, improves considerably.

→Chapter Three

→Before retiring for the night I carefully place locking spells on both my doors. No disreputable inhabitant of Twelve Seas is going to get his hands on my excellent present.