Spring, 1349

By the fifth month of the outbreak, the mood of Stanton was black. Isolated from one another, the bonds that once held the community together began to fray.

First, old smoldering disputes reignited. Liddell and Anse’s incessant property argument exploded with the former accusing the latter of poisoning his family. In response the old timberman ambushed the wealthy cattleman with an ax to the back of the head. Devil Anse himself was found dead a week later, stabbed to death by a pitchfork. Jones was identified by the dragon and imprisoned, only to be released when a jury refused to convict him despite the rancher freely confessing to the killing to avenge his uncle.

Wright and Bowie's long standing brawls next came to a head over a failure to dispose of supposedly diseased grain, leading to a horrific knife battle in a town alley where the former was killed and the latter badly injured before bystanders broke up the fight.

And then, repeatedly accused of black magic and harassed by her neighbors, Cera responded by jumping off a cliff into Kern Canyon.

That death cast a further pall over the town, but far from discouraging further incidents, the flashpoints only became more targeted. As usual, the most marginal members of the community were hit first.

Martha was long gone, Wilkerson had fled after the Freeland Brother Revolt and Dr. Moller had abruptly disappeared that one night, but the abandoned homes of all three mysteriously burned in the same week. Then came the outcasts that remained: Tulusculumian herbalist Tituba was attacked and beaten by a group in the dark one night, the spinster Sarah was found floating face down in her duck pond, and the mentally challenged Corwin was found hanging from a noose just South of town. Even with Mera attempting to scent out the guilty, Logan and Lawton were unable to prove that these incidents were purposeful attacks, with too many people traveling though the area before and after. However, the large number of people-dozens- passing through each of those areas, and the presence of several prominent individuals at all three locations were greatly suspicious. Logan did not want to believe that such a large part of the town were capable of such violence, but the thought nagged at him.

And then Stanton turned its anger to its most visible minorities.

“Those damn Guest Families! They’ve been poisoning our wells!” Early muttered aloud in his mug of ale at the Drunken Hind. Several people, widely scattered in the tavern overheard, and a few gave vague calls of agreement.

Early’s drinking companion Lawson shook his head. “How could you say that? They lived with us for decades! They fought and died with us during the Great War!”

“That’s what they wanted you to think!” The farmer retorted.

“What? They planned this for thirty years?” The miller asked.

“That’s just how long they can plot! They could plot for centuries!” Early snapped in reply. “You can never trust them!”

Sitting quietly by the entrance to the tavern, Logan buried his head in the palm of his hand.

“My Heavens, people, have they not suffered as badly as everyone else?” He called out, interrupting the argument.

That quieted things down in the Drunken Hind, but the discontent remained.

“Find a way to deal with this plague, Forester.” Early grumbled into his mug. “If you can’t, then others will have to.”

***

“Mera, as a friend, tell me about how your people deal with plagues.” The dragon and the forester were patrolling the Hinterlands. With news of the plague striking Stanton, few people dared approach the town, and none had interest in confronting the Guardian, leaving Logan plenty of time to talk to his companion. There was too much to talk about. “Tell me what we can do about this horror.”

The dragon shrugged. “My people flee diseased areas. Those sick are treated by friends and family until they recover or die. The Heavens themselves will their fate.”

The Forester shook his head. “This is now my home. People can’t leave-and those that could already have. But those that remain are getting angrier. I don’t know what I can do.”

“The plague is like a storm. You can only wait for it to pass.”

“We have to try something. Can you do anything?”

The dragon got a bit annoyed.

“I can defend Stanton against bandits and Northerners, even other dragons. But I can’t fight something I can’t see.” Mera retorted.

The Forester of Stanton nodded and sighed. "I feel like I am on a ship headed straight for the cliff, and I don't know where to turn."

Wilco - I Am Trying To Break Your Heart

From TheDinosaurMann !