Under several large glass panes, green vegetables burst forth. The experiment to prolong the gardening season progressed. I entered the observation into the journal.
December 12
Week 5: Carrots, scallions, and herbs in cold frames show no sign of frost damage.
I sketched examples of each. The raven settled on my shoulder and gave warning that someone approached. Crunching leaves directed my attention to the woods nearest the cottage.
A young girl, slender with hungry eyes, stopped when she saw me. “Miss Tinsley, do you take apprentices?”
“Who’s asking?” I motioned for her to come closer.
“I’m Nora.” Her eyes darted around the property. “I want to learn magic.”
“You want to be a witch? At the first sign of trouble, you’ll flee like a frightened bunny.” I stood hand on hip to intimidate her.
“Mama told me, you saved me, once.” She lowered her eyes. “I’m not afraid of trouble.” Her hands formed fists, a raised sleeve revealed bruises.
“Can you read and write?” I handed over the journal. “Read the first sentence.”
“Wash hands with soap before attending each patient and after elimination.” Nora handed it back. “It’s that important to write about?”
“Yes, it protects a village, like yours, against germs.” I pocketed the book. “I don’t practice magic. It’s called science. I study laws that govern this world. The art of creation is knowing which ingredients and recipes to follow. Creativity comes, when you derive theories based on studied principles. Are you still interested?”
“Yes.”
***
A loud raucous caw startled me from turning the compost. The raven landed on the scarecrow. Agitated he stood on the straw hat and plucked at its shiny eyes. He directed a storm of squawks toward me. Unhappy at the lack of response, he took to the treetops.
A slight tremor vibrated the ground, before distant drumming, broke the silence. A black stallion trotted into the clearing. His rider slumped in the saddle. The horse, oblivious to the rider’s state, discovered a patch of sweet grass.
There wasn’t evidence of foul play. My scarf, used for warmth, became a makeshift germ shield. I handed Nora a hanky, when she approached. A circuit around man and horse revealed the rider portrayed a false identity. Nora followed along, trained eyes assessed the information.
I watched my student. “What did you notice?”
“The ratty cloak hides expensive clothing. The horse is well fed and the stranger isn’t from here, his style is foreign.”
“Very good.”
The horse smelled the apple I’d squirreled away. He nudged the hidden snack. “Such a handsome fellow. Here you go buddy. Who did you bring with you?”
The rider jerked into an upright position. His eyes opened wide before rolling up into his head. He slumped forward.
“He’s fainted.” I moved to support him.
Nora took the reins and quieted the horse. “If he’s sick, will you heal him?”
“I’ll need his permission first. Accepting medication instead of waiting upon God to answer prayer, breaks the law.”
I lifted the cloak. “Look, he’s tied to the saddle. A highfalutin nobleman is more dangerous than a drunken skunk. He could be the death of me.” Branded a witch, helping the wrong person could be my death.
The sight of the family crest, on the jacket, worried me. It was familiar, but different. Banished from the city thirty years earlier, I didn’t give a crap about aristocratic politics. A couple of slashes with a folding knife and the rope fell away.
“Don’t touch me.” The young rider snapped. He glared down from his mount.
I stepped away, wishing he’d fall.
“I’ve got the plague, as well as half my citizens. Mother said she kept you alive for a time such as this. God rest her soul.
Aunt Tinsley, I command you to create a cure to save all of humanity.” The king vomited and then fell.
***
“Your Majesty, Majesty….” I shook him.
My nephew slept on a small cot, an IV drip attached. His name was Mathew, born after my exile, his existence unknown to me. With Elizabeth dead, my home belonged to him.
After he fell, he stayed unconscious, while I sprayed insecticide, on everyone including the horse, killing unseen plague carriers. Fleas. We removed all clothing and watched it burn.
I stared into the flames. My fingers traced the ‘W’ on my right arm. A trophy received for vaccinating a village against smallpox. The 21st century anti-science ideology reversed technological advances, which strangled the 22nd. We might as well live in the 14th century. Fear, uncertainty, and doubt robbed humanity’s potential to further evolve.
After Nora and I dressed, we rolled Mathew into the wheelbarrow. Covered in a blanket, we brought him to the hidden lab, under the cottage. Outlawed medications stabilized his condition and forbidden equipment such as microscopes aided in creating the cure. Nora observed and wrote in her journal. She’d become a perceptive student.
“Your Majesty, we have to talk.” I spoke with authority.
His eyes moved under closed eyelids, then piercing blue shone forth. “The cure?”
“I need assurances of safety.” I leaned over him. “The law will find you, they will find us.”
“I’ll protect you saying, God worked through you to create the cure.” He waved his hand as if giving a command. “Politics are changing.”
“You know what will happen if you accept the medication. The Church will blame you for the lack of rain, the blood-red moons and earthquakes.”
“Your truth became Mother’s.” He noticed his surroundings. “So this is the famous lab. She’d never admit it, but your sister was proud of you. The stories, I’ve heard.”
He rested and then continued, “The inventions and experiments, like the explosion that sent the cook running out of the kitchen.” A coughing spell shook the cot. “You have my permission. And if this works… my protection.”
I administered the medication. He fell asleep in seconds. Disturbed by words of kindness, I reflected on my feelings towards Elizabeth. Maybe sending me away, she gave me the life I desired. I internalized the words Mathew spoke.
The distinctive caw heard deep within the confines of the lab, forewarned of intruders.
Nora’s eyes met mine. “Are you going to tell them he’s here?”
“No, his fate would be worse than mine.” Nora wrapped arms around me, stunned several seconds passed, before I returned the embrace.
“Stay with the King until it’s time to remove the IV. Here’s my journal. Keep it safe.” I flew from the room to safeguard the two who’d changed my life.
The entrance to the lab secured, I waited for the trespassers warming myself near the hearth. I took in my cozy surroundings, books piled high and notebooks with writing tools scattered about. An interminable amount of time passed before someone pounded at the door. I took my time to answer.
“Afternoon. Lady Tinsley, I believe? I’m Commander Kirkpatrick, part of the Royal Guard.” He held a charred boot heel. “What have you done with Sir Mathew McNeely?”
“Don’t you mean the King?” I wiped perspiring hands, on the apron. The sight of men and horses traipsing over the garden, let me know my name no longer held influence. “He’s out and about.”
“He’s not the king, not since God’s anger brought the plague.” Kirkpatrick peered into the cottage. “It’s time to clean up our act, if we want God’s blessing, again. Aren’t you the local witch? You know what the Bible says, about them.”
“I’m not a witch. I’m a scientist.” I took an instinctive step backwards.
“See now, that’s a confession, I’ve just heard. I have a summons from the acting King to preside over the death of those that are an abomination to God.”
“What? No trial? I’m a citizen. I have rights.” I grabbed the door frame for support.
“Sorry, but that’s been waived. I have authority to act.” At his signal, soldiers swarmed me.
Dragged outside and tied to the scarecrow’s post, I kicked and screamed. Soldiers threw firewood around the post hitting me in the process. Soldiers emptied kerosene containers onto the wood pile and my clothing. Masked men ignited the outside perimeter. Fire surrounded me as flames drank the fuel.
Betrayed by my body, I collapsed against bindings that held me to the post. Hysterical laughter burst from my soul followed by uncontrollable sobbing. Would smoke inhalation kill me before the fire’s blaze?
***
Nora laid the pencil down and ran fingers through her hair. The chapter she dreaded, finished. The book detailed the life of Lady Tinsley. Her death brought about a science revolution. Mathew reclaimed his throne, starting with the surrounding villages Lady Tinsley saved from smallpox.
The ending needed softening, Nora added a footnote.
Creative censorship dulls society. Instead of reaching for stars, we’re searching for safety in caves of isolation, intolerance, and ignorance. – Lady Tinsley (2116 – 2168)
The plague’s potential devastation diminished due to Tinsley’s cure. Along with a natural insecticide recipe copied from her journal.
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