How to Survive in the Roanoke Colony-Chapter 48: Harvest Season (2)

After such 'plausible' stories circulated a few times, people's attitudes became defensive. Although they couldn't block the Queen's army out of fear, they unnecessarily avoided the paths they took or averted their gaze.

And then.

Walter Raleigh finally reached somewhere.

"...Is this the herb woman's house?"

"Seems like it..."

Naturally, beggars, prostitutes, and day laborers would not have money to find a proper doctor. Thus, they tend to seek out suspicious herb women, whether for faith or medicine.

Raleigh, who had found this 'unlicensed clinic,' trembled at the pungent stench from the front.

This was... the smell of something rotting.

The smell of rotting meat and organs.

And this place is far from butchery.

When these two facts combined, one could roughly guess what was happening inside. As Lord Raleigh, who stood in front of the soldiers, hesitantly took a step forward after deliberation, Harriot grabbed his shoulder.

"No. You shouldn't enter here now."

"..."

"You need to take care of your body. Someone who's been up all night for days due to state affairs..."

"Waaaahhh!"

A cry.

Not that of an adult.

At that sound, Raleigh's body moved before his head. The soldiers hastily followed him.

"My lord!"

Raleigh soon waded through the building where corpses with blackened limbs were rotting. He passed over the corpse of an old herb woman who had already died.

And then.

Fling!

When he opened the door, a child who looked about five or six was writhing with a high fever.

"He-help... he..."

"..."

Rat swarms were teeming around the child. Lord Raleigh held his breath for a moment, then threw himself in.

He throws himself into the sea of rats to rescue the child. With trembling hands, he picked up the child, and as he stepped outside, everyone was blankly watching him.

The wary eyes of the slum prostitutes, the concerned gazes of the soldiers, all were directed at him.

"Tre...treatment center."

And he speaks.

"Th-there... are no other survivors in that building... First evacuate the surroundings and burn... it."

"..."

"To Southwark's treatment center... send this child. Dare and Lawrence will save..."

"...You go too, my lord."

"..."

"Aren't you feeling dizzy?"

"...Now that you mention it."

"Of course, if you keep doing this."

Harriot asked.

"Why do you go to such lengths? If you're going to work, you should take care of yourself while..."

"Oh, my friend. You still haven't thrown away the nature of a skeptic."

"..."

Raleigh, weakly but clearly smiling, comforted the child who had stopped struggling.

"...When the path of salvation is open, what more could I ask for?"

There was a flame in his eyes.

A flame that would burn his entire body and still have more to spare was blazing from his heart.

==

"Here! Here!"

Eleanor felt her hair sticking to her sweaty neck as she ran. Just as she was heading to the cabin to change her protective suit after finishing the day's work, someone called her like this.

This wasn't uncommon. Every time she commuted, people would ask her to help move a patient from their family or friends who had difficulty moving. This seemed to be such a case again.

"...Huh?"

...At least, that's what Eleanor thought as she turned the corner.

It was a dead end.

"...Um, there's nothing here?"

As Eleanor said so and turned around, something flashed in the dark alley.

It was a blade.

"...Do you remember Lord John Hawkins?"

The man licked his lips with his tongue and slowly walked toward Eleanor. Only now did she notice the man's features that she hadn't seen while rushing.

Features like clean skin and plump cheeks, unlike slum dwellers.

Features that were useless to recognize now.

"It's really scary to get on the bad side of a high-ranking person. Do you know how scary that is?"

"..."

"It's as scary as meeting a murderer in a remote alley of a slum."

The man, seemingly satisfied with his humor, giggled before... taking another step to close the distance with Eleanor.

Soon he swung his knife and extended it toward Eleanor...

"P-push that at least!"

CRASH!

"...Huh?"

Eleanor, who had tightly closed her eyes imagining the blade piercing her chest, slightly... opened her eyes at the sudden shout.

The boxes stacked beside the wall had poured over the 'murderer.' He was still clutching the knife, writhing... and soon the movement stopped.

Eleanor approached and lightly checked his pulse, but felt nothing.

"A-are you alright?"

"Kyaaah!"

"D-d-don't worry. W-we, we won't hurt Mrs. Dare."

A woman was speaking with a severe stutter, crouching down. Looking closely... she was a patient who had been discharged from the treatment center three days ago. A young prostitute who stuttered.

"S-suspicious, u-unfamiliar f-face w-was there, s-so I followed..."

"Mrs. Dare! Are you alright?"

"Are you hurt anywhere!"

Soon, other patients she had cared for and volunteers who worked with her came running, kicking the already dead murderer and checking her physical condition.

"What? Oh, I'm fine! I'm fine, but..."

"Come with us for now! There's big trouble at the treatment center right now!"

"...Pardon?"

Eleanor was led by the hand of an old beggar and ran mindlessly with the others. Again, she headed from the dark, narrow alley in the middle to a bright, wide main road.

When she squinted at the sudden sunlight entering her eyes and opened them.

Men with clubs gathered around the treatment center... were cowering and fearing in front of powerless beggars.

Not the other way around.

The strong men were fearfully trembling and slowly backing away from the beggars.

"You bastards! Eat this!"

"Eat this and get treatment here too!"

The beggars were throwing rat carcasses.

They were from the rat traps that Eleanor and Margaret had set up all over the slum recently. Because of that, the rumor that rodents were the cause of the plague had spread to some extent.

"D-d-don't come closer!"

"H-help..."

And that 'knowledge' was making the thugs who came to threaten the treatment center afraid. They didn't know what to do... then they were startled by a shout suddenly coming from behind them.

"What are you lot doing there!"

A voice that now no one in London doesn't know. A face that now no one in London doesn't know because he had been running around the slums and alleys so much.

"Th-the royal guard came directly!"

"Oh shit!"

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As Eleanor turned around, 'Royal Guard Captain' Lord Walter Raleigh and the guards were rushing toward the thugs with drawn swords. The thugs hastily scattered and fled.

While blankly... watching that sight, Margaret came running from far away. Margaret hugged Eleanor and cried loudly.

"M-Mrs. Dare... wh-when others said they didn't know where you went, I thought something had happened to you..."

"I'm fine! I'm really fine, so..."

"Hey! Are you all right?"

"Lord Raleigh? That child in your arms..."

"A patient. First, this child... cough."

"You're coughing! Lord Raleigh should also..."

"The child first."

"..."

"Now there won't be... any more attacks. After failing once, they won't try such nonsense again. From now on, I'll also assign guards here... cough, hack."

"Please receive treatment first! This way! First, those who are already in line..."

As Eleanor and Margaret urgently supported Lord Raleigh, who had put down the child...

The crowd's confusion ceases in an instant.

The crowd gathered in front of them parted like the Red Sea to both sides.

Even those who were already in line moved aside on their own to open a path for them to enter the makeshift infirmary.

Hundreds of people... were praying in that state.

Some knelt with both hands raised toward the sky, and some repeated phrases like "They are saints. They are saints..." while making the sign of the cross over and over.

In that strange and holy silence, the three walked to the half-destroyed treatment center.

==

And that night.

"That tent over there collapsed! Raise it up!"

"Gather the syringes and bring them here!"

Those walking on the street, the inhabitants of this slum, protect and rebuild this place.

People who gather from somewhere quietly lend a small helping hand and then disappear.

When those small hands gather by the hundreds, by the thousands.

"...Huh?"

"What... happened?"

When Eleanor woke up the next day, the treatment center was almost completely restored.

It's just a simple and childish belief, like that of a child.

That if you do good deeds, more good deeds will return.

But sometimes, even such beliefs are rewarded.

From a very small branch, countless small branches spread out.

And countless fruits grow on each of those small branches.