Hugh returned to the Crymmych Inn and peeled off his doublet, far too heavy this fair day.
The innkeeper halted him at the bottom of the stairs. "Lord Radcliffe, the lad abed in your room is unwell. His breathing is shallow, he hasn"t the strength to lift his head up. We believe he shows signs of the sweat."
Hugh rushed into the room and up to the lad lying on the mattress. The deathly pale face was contorted in pain. Doubled over on his side, he clutched his stomach. Touching his forehead, Hugh didn"t detect any sign of fever or sweat, but the boy was seriously ill.
He bent over to speak to Brice and could see a stain on the sheet where the boy had vomited. "Brice… Brice, can you hear me? "Tis Hugh Radcliffe. I shall summon a physician."
"Nay, my lord…” The voice cracked. Hugh had to
