He pulled the hood over his head, as the tower burned behind him. The noon day sun glinted off the medallion he wore around his neck. Feeling the heat from the burning tower behind him, he walked up the dusty street, as crowds ran toward the burning tower; some where, church bells began to toll.
Running his hand on his little beard, he observed the people in the street, that stared at the raging fire of the tower, hearing their excited shouts. First the devastating plague was gripping the country, as it swept from place to place, as people fled; now their city was threatening to be consumed.
"Juniper," he said softly, her name tasted sweet on his lips as he stepped over the body that laid in the street; black spots covered its arms and chest, marking the passage of the black death. The funeral cart driver would soon be by to collect it, his cart already perhaps heaping.
The man had witnessed this same scene, plenty over the last couple of days, in almost every town that he passed through; the passage of the plague. A couple of towns he was in, foxes nested on peoples porches, and oxen roamed the countryside, as no one was there to put them in the pasture, as most had perished, or fled.
A strong wind blew against his cloak, carrying with it the stink of smoke and of death; a smell he was all to familiar with. He pushed on; Juniper was waiting for him.
Juniper laid in the bed, the last in the row of the beds in the room. Even with the noon sun shining in the room; it had a dark, gloomy look. Sweat beaded her forehead, the Nun that attended her bed side, took the cloth out of the basin of cool water. Wringing it out, she wiped her forehead and then placed the towel across her head.
"He's coming," she said in a soft whisper.
"Hush, child," said the Nun, as she squeezed her hands.
Juniper coughed and blood ran out the side of her mouth. The Nun reached over and picked up another cloth, dipping it into the other bowl, which held Luke warm water and rung out the cloth, and then she wiped the blood from her lips and face. Rinsing the cloth again, she wiped the dark patches on her arms, and then returned the cloth to the water.
"I'll be back, child," she said, patting Juniper's arms, and then she left the girls bedside, going to check on other patients.
The man was near a cemetery in another small town and saw one of the funeral cart drivers pulling bodies into a mass grave. The man wiped his sweaty brow and saw him on the crest of the cemetery.
"Ho there!" he called too him.
He stopped and looked down at the man. The man waved his arm at him, motioning for him to come down to the grave. He looked at the sky, it wouldn't be dark for a few hours; still she would wait. He headed for the man at the grave side.
"Hello," the man smiled at him. "Could use a little help, there's a lot today," he said, as he picked one of the bodies up under the arms.
Smiling and saying not a word, the man picked up the feet and together they put the body into the grave, as the wind whispered sadly through the trees and around the stones.
Juniper sat in the chair back in her room at home. He sat on the couch looking at her, not saying a word.
"Why do you always just set and stair at me?" she asked.
"Juniper," he said.
She could not see his expression from the hood over his face.
Juniper awoke from the feverish dream; outside night had fallen. She watched as the Nun and the Doctor covered the people in the beds. She sat up and began coughing, feeling the blood run down her face and chin.
The Nun came to her bedside as she laid back down and removed the cloth from her forehead, putting it back in the basin of cool water and ringing it out, she wiped her forehead. Juniper's dark hair was matted against her head with perspiration. Wiping her brow, the Nun placed the cool cloth on her forehead and wiped the blood from her face and wiped the black sores on her arms.
It was night when he arrived at the plague hospital and stars were shining down their light on the windows and steps; a crescent moon hung in the sky. He ascended the steps and entered the building, touching the medallion that he wore around his neck.
The hospital was bleak and filled with the moans of the infected and the scent of sickness and death. He walked down the corridors, passed Doctors and Nuns, glancing in the wards at the infected. Some had been covered; as their time had passed. He moved on passed other wards as he proceeded down the hall.
Juniper looked out the window at the night sky and the stars and then she turned to look at the door. He stepped in. Juniper looked at the Nun that was attending her.
"He's here," she said.
"Quiet child calm yourself."
He moved along the ward, stopping at beds, as he made his way to hers. Stopping at her bed, he looked down at her and she looked at him, the shadows standing behind him.
"He is here," she said coughing, blood running out of her mouth.
"Calm child," said the Nun, wiping her dark sores.
He held out his hand to her and she stepped out of bed and approached him. He removed the hood from his face; smiling at her.
"Do I frighten you?" he asked.
She shook her head.
"Not now."
The Nun covered Juniper's face and sadly shook her head. Juniper looked down at her body in the bed, and then back at him. Taking her by the hand, he lead her over to the window and the curtains blew out behind them, as they disappeared into the night.
