AVIGNON June/July, 1348 AD
Marius and Luc shared a pitcher of ale, in silence. The former looked at the patrons of the inn, all of whom he knew, all with a tale of misery to relate. Thinking back, only two months earlier, so many people of Avignon had attended the service in the Audience. The heady atmosphere in that place had enveloped them. With incense wafting, religious chanting from priests in robes, surroundings glorious and imposing, they were in awe of the Church with its orchestrated ceremony. Nonetheless, they remained hopeful, despite the number of deaths rising. Hope, optimism, dreams – a belief they would survive the horror of the plague – were present and, often, in households already struck down. To succumb was cowardice, and no-one wanted to be branded as fainthearted. But
