jeans.
“What are you doing? I don’t think stripping is quite the way to answer my questions, though it’s a good way to distract me.” Bart seemed a little nervous.
“Don’t worry. I just want you to see something.” Pest took off his shirt and removed his gloves.
He reached around to the small of his back and rubbed his fingers there. After a minute, heat blossomed and he put his gloves back on. Turning to present his back to Bart, he said, “Tell me what you see there, but don’t touch it.”
“It looks like a Roman seal. I dated an archaeologist for a while, and his area of expertise was Rome. What does it say and why do you have it on your back? Why didn’t I see it before? It’s not a tattoo. It’s more like a brand.”
“ Coniecturalem artem esse medicinam. Medicine is the art of guessing. I thought it was a fitting motto for me, especially after watching my own family die because I didn’t know how to cure them.” Pest turned to face Bart again. “I can’t tell you anything about what I do. You wouldn’t believe me. You ask me these questions, all the while you’re thinking I’m crazy or just pulling your leg.”
Bart opened his mouth and Pest pressed his fingers against his lips.
“Don’t deny that’s what you’re thinking. I know better, Bart. I’ve never told anyone the truth because no one would ever believe me. To be honest, though, I’ve never met anyone I ever wanted to share the real truth with.” He narrowed his gaze at Bart. “What makes you different from the others?”
“I know there’s something strange about you and Death and Lam. Your eyes are weird. You have the strangest colored hair I’ve ever seen, and I know yours is natural. You came and visited me in my dreams.” Bart jerked to his feet and paced. “Why can’t you tell me the truth?”
“What kind of truth do you want, Bart? The truth is my family died during the Bubonic Plague outbreak in the 1300s. I was a doctor, but nothing I did could save them or anyone else in my village. I took my own life because I felt so guilty. What else did I have to live for? They were gone. My wife and son had died.” Pest touched the locket hanging around his neck.
“You’re saying you’re dead. You killed yourself in the 1300s. That’s not possible.” Bart continued to pace.
“Of course it’s not possible. Why do you think I’ve never told you or anyone about this? No one, unless they’re completely crazy, will believe me.” Pest pulled his shirt back on and stood. He went to the window, looking out over the street.
“Pestilence, you must stay silent.” Death’s admonishment echoed through Pest’s mind.
“Or what? I’ll die or you’ll kill me, but I can’t die, so any sort of threat you make is pointless.” Pest leaned his head on the cool glass.
“You’re the one who chose to become a Horseman. No one forced you.”
“Wait a minute. I didn’t choose to become Pestilence. I killed myself and somehow that elected me to this job. I never had one chance to get out of it.”
Death’s silence told Pest his fellow Horseman had said all he was going to on the subject.
“Why can’t I say something? He’ll just think I’m crazy, but for once in my eternal life, I’ll have told someone the truth.”
Pest wasn’t expecting Bart’s touch, so when the man’s hand landed on his shoulder, he jumped.
“Sorry.” Bart slipped his arms around Pest’s waist, and tugged him into a tight embrace. He rested his hands low on Pest’s stomach. “I’m sorry about your family. Do you have pictures of them in the locket?”
Laughing softly, Pest shook his head. He reached up and opened the locket to show it to Bart. “It’s locks of their hair. Cameras didn’t exist when they were alive, and by the time I found an artist to do a rendering of them, I’d forgotten what they looked like. At times, I can remember what my son’s laughter or my wife’s voice sounded like, but for the most part,
“What are you doing? I don’t think stripping is quite the way to answer my questions, though it’s a good way to distract me.” Bart seemed a little nervous.
“Don’t worry. I just want you to see something.” Pest took off his shirt and removed his gloves.
He reached around to the small of his back and rubbed his fingers there. After a minute, heat blossomed and he put his gloves back on. Turning to present his back to Bart, he said, “Tell me what you see there, but don’t touch it.”
“It looks like a Roman seal. I dated an archaeologist for a while, and his area of expertise was Rome. What does it say and why do you have it on your back? Why didn’t I see it before? It’s not a tattoo. It’s more like a brand.”
“ Coniecturalem artem esse medicinam. Medicine is the art of guessing. I thought it was a fitting motto for me, especially after watching my own family die because I didn’t know how to cure them.” Pest turned to face Bart again. “I can’t tell you anything about what I do. You wouldn’t believe me. You ask me these questions, all the while you’re thinking I’m crazy or just pulling your leg.”
Bart opened his mouth and Pest pressed his fingers against his lips.
“Don’t deny that’s what you’re thinking. I know better, Bart. I’ve never told anyone the truth because no one would ever believe me. To be honest, though, I’ve never met anyone I ever wanted to share the real truth with.” He narrowed his gaze at Bart. “What makes you different from the others?”
“I know there’s something strange about you and Death and Lam. Your eyes are weird. You have the strangest colored hair I’ve ever seen, and I know yours is natural. You came and visited me in my dreams.” Bart jerked to his feet and paced. “Why can’t you tell me the truth?”
“What kind of truth do you want, Bart? The truth is my family died during the Bubonic Plague outbreak in the 1300s. I was a doctor, but nothing I did could save them or anyone else in my village. I took my own life because I felt so guilty. What else did I have to live for? They were gone. My wife and son had died.” Pest touched the locket hanging around his neck.
“You’re saying you’re dead. You killed yourself in the 1300s. That’s not possible.” Bart continued to pace.
“Of course it’s not possible. Why do you think I’ve never told you or anyone about this? No one, unless they’re completely crazy, will believe me.” Pest pulled his shirt back on and stood. He went to the window, looking out over the street.
“Pestilence, you must stay silent.” Death’s admonishment echoed through Pest’s mind.
“Or what? I’ll die or you’ll kill me, but I can’t die, so any sort of threat you make is pointless.” Pest leaned his head on the cool glass.
“You’re the one who chose to become a Horseman. No one forced you.”
“Wait a minute. I didn’t choose to become Pestilence. I killed myself and somehow that elected me to this job. I never had one chance to get out of it.”
Death’s silence told Pest his fellow Horseman had said all he was going to on the subject.
“Why can’t I say something? He’ll just think I’m crazy, but for once in my eternal life, I’ll have told someone the truth.”
Pest wasn’t expecting Bart’s touch, so when the man’s hand landed on his shoulder, he jumped.
“Sorry.” Bart slipped his arms around Pest’s waist, and tugged him into a tight embrace. He rested his hands low on Pest’s stomach. “I’m sorry about your family. Do you have pictures of them in the locket?”
Laughing softly, Pest shook his head. He reached up and opened the locket to show it to Bart. “It’s locks of their hair. Cameras didn’t exist when they were alive, and by the time I found an artist to do a rendering of them, I’d forgotten what they looked like. At times, I can remember what my son’s laughter or my wife’s voice sounded like, but for the most part,
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