Doomsday Book (Oxford Time Travel, #1) - Connie Willis Page 0,233

taking, and wondering how much the donkey could carry. They would need to take oats for the donkey. There would be no grass, though when they reached Scotland there might be heather that it could eat. They shouldn’t have to take water. There were plenty of streams. But they would need to take a pot to boil it in.

“Your people never came for you,” Rosemund said.

Kivrin looked up. She was still sitting against the door with the apple.

They did come, Kivrin thought, but I wasn’t there. “No,” Kivrin said.

“Think you the plague has killed them?”

“No,” Kivrin said, and thought, At least I don’t have to think of them dead or helpless somewhere. At least I know they’re all right.

“When I go to Sir Bloet, I will tell him how you helped us,” Rosemund said. “I will ask that I might keep you and Father Roche by me.” Her head went up proudly. “I am allowed my own attendants and chaplain.”

“Thank you,” Kivrin said solemnly.

She set the sack of good apples next to the one of cheese and bread. The bell stopped, its overtones still echoing in the cold air. She picked up the bucket and lowered it into the well. She would cook some porridge and chop the bruised apples into it. It would make a filling meal for the trip.

Rosemund’s apple rolled past her feet to the base of the well and stopped. Kivrin stooped to pick it up. It had only a little bite out of it, white against the shriveled red. Kivrin wiped it against her jerkin. “You dropped your apple,” she said, and turned to give it back to her.

Her hand was still open, as if she had leaned forward to catch it when it fell. “Oh, Rosemund,” Kivrin said.

TRANSCRIPT FROM THE DOMESDAY BOOK

(079110–079239)

Father Roche and I are going to Scotland. There really isn’t any point in telling you that, I suppose, since you’ll never hear what’s on this corder, but perhaps someone will stumble across it on a moor someday or Ms. Montoya will do a dig in northern Scotland when she’s finished with Skendgate, and if that happens, I wanted you to know what happened to us.

I know flight is probably the worst thing to do, but I have to get Father Roche away from here. The whole manor is contaminated with the plague—bedding, clothes, the air—and the rats are everywhere. I saw one in the church when I went to get Roche’s alb and stole for Rosemund’s funeral. And even if he doesn’t catch it from them, the plague is all around us, and I will never be able to convince him to stay here. He will want to go and help.

We’ll keep off the roads and away from the villages. We’ve got food enough for a week, and then we’ll be far enough north that I should be able to buy food in a town. The clerk had a sack of silver with him. And don’t worry. We’ll be all right. As Mr. Gilchrist would say, “I’ve taken every possible precaution.”

32

Apocalyptic was very likely the correct term for his even thinking he could rescue Kivrin, Dunworthy thought. He was worn out by the time Colin got him back to his room, and his temp was back up. “You rest,” Colin said, helping him into bed. “You can’t have a relapse if you’re going to rescue Kivrin.”

“I need to see Badri,” he said, “and Finch.”

“I’ll take care of everything,” Colin said, and darted out.

He would need to arrange his and Badri’s discharge and med support for the pickup, in case Kivrin was ill. He would need a plague inoculation. He wondered how long would be required for it to take effect. Mary had said she’d immunized Kivrin while she was in hospital for her corder implant. That had been two weeks before the drop but perhaps it didn’t take that long to confer immunity.

The nurse came in to check his temp. “I’m just going off-duty,” she said, reading his patch.

“How soon can I be discharged?” he asked.

“Discharged?” she said, sounding surprised. “My, you must be feeling better.”

“I am,” he said. “How long?”

She frowned. “There’s a good deal of difference between being ready for a bit of a walk and being ready to go home.” She adjusted the drip. “You don’t want to overdo.”

She went out, and after a few minutes Colin came in with Finch and the Middle Ages book. “I thought perhaps you’d need this for costumes and things.” He dumped it