I try to make him drink more honey and lemon, but most of the time he is not alert enough to swallow. I fair slightly better with Elizabeth. She hasn’t eaten for days, so I hope the drink will keep her strength up. I only wish Archer could find the strength to swallow.
I wake in the wee hours of the morning to Archer’s screams. Mother and William join us in the barn with their faces covered in cloth like I’ve instructed them, while I cradle Archer to my chest. Elizabeth tosses fitfully nearby.
Mother holds her youngest child’s hand as we sit in silence. William goes to fetch the priest, but there are too many dying in the village and he returns alone. I don’t think it really matters. Archer is too young to have sins to confess. Surely, if there is a heaven, children are admitted automati
