Compared to Sesil, however, Henry and Rufus showed no change—or perhaps they just didn’t let it show.
Henry was very smart—so smart that Eric felt he was nothing like a nine-year-old. Whenever he had a free moment, Henry would cling to Eric’s side.
Eric could sense his strong sense of purpose. Of course, perhaps he simply hadn’t yet learned to hide it well.
He was convinced Eric knew something. Or rather, he thought Eric could influence the arrangements his older brother, Robert, had made for him. He was trying to improve his own situation.
He had likely known his place in the family for a long time. As the youngest son, he wouldn’t receive much. If he didn’t fight for more, he might end up with nothing at all.
It reminded Eric of his former self. Perhaps out of pity, or maybe sympathy, Eric didn’t call the little guy out on it.
On the third day, it was time to depart.
Outside the Monastery, Eric’s army was already assembled.
Accompanying Sesil to Rouen was Abbess Matilda, along with over a dozen carts loaded with grain and Silver Coins for giving alms and covering the journey’s expenses.
But when it was time to depart, Sesil was nowhere to be found.
"My sister must be heartbroken," Henry said suddenly.
"No way, Haral. The old man sent her to the Monastery when she was three. I bet she has absolutely no fond memories of him. She probably just doesn’t want to attend his funeral—she’d be tempted to give his coffin a few kicks."
"That sounds horrible."
"I’ll go look for her."
Eric searched all over the Monastery and finally found her in the chapel.
For some reason, she had climbed onto the pedestal of the Statue of the Virgin Mary, clutching a child who was even smaller than Henry.
She was trying to reach for the statue’s fingers.
"We should be... leaving, Princess," Eric said, startled by her precarious position.
"I might need a moment. The dead can wait, but the living cannot," Sesil said, glancing at Eric.
"What are you doing?" Eric asked, walking over to her.
"She has a fever, and it seems to be getting worse. A full night of rest yesterday didn’t help her improve."
"So you’re hoping for a miracle."
"Perhaps only the Holy Mother can save her now. This Monastery’s Statue of the Virgin Mary has a relic of the Holy Mother in its arm." Sesil tried to reach the statue’s arm again, but she was still just out of reach.
"Seriously, did I come at a bad time?" Eric asked. He glanced at the chapel doors, then walked over and shut them.
"Yes. Aunt Matilda wouldn’t approve of this, but I have to do it."
"What about her parents? Logically, God would want her parents to be here."
"God wants everyone to be her parents."
"What?"
"This child’s parents are dead. Her father, delirious with a high fever, tried to blind her with a branding iron to prevent the disease from infecting her through her eyes.
He only managed to blind one eye, but she was already infected. She ran to her uncle’s house, bringing the sickness with her. When she woke from the fever, she found herself alone in a morgue. No one would take her in, so she walked all the way to Caen.
She arrived just the day before yesterday. I believe God must want me to save her, and it was just by chance that Robert’s messenger arrived yesterday."
Sesil pulled her arm back. Holding the position for so long had become unbearable. She shook out her arm and looked at Eric. "Aren’t you going to come help? Are you just going to stand there and watch? Eric, you’re a Monk... oh, right, I forgot. I’m supposed to call you Lord Gloucester now, aren’t I?"
"Well, I figure if you believe this is the mission God has given you, it would be improper for me to interfere. He probably has some other task in mind for me," Eric said with a shrug.
"Fine, then. You just watch. Rufus was right, you truly are a faithless... Ahhh!"
Standing on her tiptoes, Sesil lost her balance and toppled off the statue’s pedestal. Eric caught her just in time.
There was a distinct scent of smoked mugwort on her.
"I suppose this must be the work He had in mind for me," Eric chuckled.
Her face flushed from the close contact with a man she barely knew, but she kept her composure.
"Nonsense," Sesil said, looking annoyed. "But... thank you."
Eric set her down. "Were you planning to use a piece of it for medicine?"
"Of course not! The Holy Mother’s extended index and middle fingers symbolize a blessing. I was trying to ask for Her blessing."
"Well, you couldn’t reach it. Perhaps that’s a sign that this method isn’t right, and you need to find another way."
"Really?" Sesil asked, unconvinced.
"How is she doing now?"
Eric got a clear look at the girl in Sesil’s arms. She was dark-skinned and gaunt, like a little monkey. He also saw her injured eye; the wound was horrifying.
Her features were scrunched together in pain, and her forehead was beaded with sweat.
"Aunt Matilda used juniper, but it was no use," Sesil said worriedly, touching the girl’s forehead.
"I don’t know if this will work, because I don’t know what specific illness this is. It could be a simple fever, or some kind of infectious disease. Let’s hope it’s not the latter, or we’ll all be in for it."
Eric touched the girl’s forehead. It was frighteningly hot.
He took a vial of potion from within his robes. It was a special gift: Mojed’s Secret Formula. It was meant for infectious diseases, though it didn’t specify which one.