CHAPTER 13
Thank God For An Honest ManRichard was up early and had prepared the morning rations before leaving for services. Wilcox struggled to sit up. He wiped his dry, cracked lips with his tongue, reached for the wine bottle and drained it, holding the bottle straight up to catch the last drop.
“Ooh, wine is a bloody curse. May the miserable wretch who first discovered it roast on the spit of Hell.”
He threw the empty bottle into a corner and got shakily to his feet.
“Ooh.”
He held his head in both hands.
“The wages of sin, the wages of sin. But good Lord, a man must drink himself into oblivion or else spend his time thinking on women. That will surely drive a man to madness as quick as drink and with none of the advantages.”
He picked up a flask of water next to our breakfast a
