Harrington was sitting behind his desk in his small office, inhaling the foul air and looking out the window at the desert beyond, missing the vegetation of his former home.
"I still can't believe that my master gave his mansion to the monks and left the royalties of his factory to the temple, and he himself went to the mountain caves and made me miserable like this."
A month ago, his master, Geraldo, woke up in the morning in a strange mood and said that last night the gods had appeared in his dream and scolded him for not following the monks and threatened to kill him in the worst way if he continued to do so.
Geraldo had shown Harington the black blood-filled bumps on his stomach and told him that if he didn't immediately make amends for his past mistakes, the gods would spread these bumps all over his body and he would die.
Harrington had told him to be calm so that he could get a doctor for him, but Geraldo had refused, and without changing his nightgown, he had immediately got into the carriage and gone to the monks, and then he had done all those things, and it seemed like now he had locked himself in a cave and was praying.
"I would very much like to know which of the temple mages cast a spell on my master and put him in this state."
He tried to put the thought of his master out of his mind and focus on his work. He brought the papers on the table one by one and forged the relevant signatures on them.
"I don't know how long I can do this without getting caught. Heh. I was supposed to be the master's bride. But now I'm in this situation and my only happiness is repeating the good moments of the past in my mind."
As he signed and fought the onslaught of memories, a pigeon flew in through the window, dropped a rolled-up piece of paper on his desk, and then left. Harrington picked up the paper and opened it, and when he read its contents, he jumped up.
His master had written to him that his illness had become very severe and he wanted to see him for the last time before his death, and he had also drawn a map of the place where he was.
Harrington jumped up and left the office and mounted his horse and began to gallop.
"Master, you will not die. You will not leave me alone."
The horse reached the mountain, and Harrington dismounted and began to climb until he reached the cave he was looking for and entered, where he saw Geraldo lying naked on the floor, his whole body covered with black bumps.
He ran to him and sat next to him and held his hand and tears filled his eyes.
"My dear lord, look at what you have done to yourself. You should have listened to me and let a doctor examine and treat you."
Geraldo withdrew his hand.
"Don't touch me and keep a little distance from me. The wrath of the gods may catch your lap too."
Harington said with a tone that was a mixture of anger and sadness.
"You still haven't realized that your illness has nothing to do with the gods and was caused by the spell of one of the temple magicians?"
"Don't say those nasty things. Monks don't work with dark creatures like magicians."
"Master, you shouldn't have been fooled by your mind. Why should a dream cause you to lose your property and life like this?"
"It is true that I am dying, but instead my soul has been cleansed of sin."
Harington wanted to scream and tell him that he was an idiot, but he thought to himself that saying these words would only serve to vent his anger, and that anger should be vented somewhere else.
So, with tears running down his cheeks, he laid the head of his master, who was now almost unconscious, on his lap and began to caress his hair, until Geraldo stopped breathing.
Harrington hugged him for a while and cried, and then he took a knife out of his pocket and cut his palm with it and said:
"I swear that the monks and their wizard will repay you for what they did to you. I promise you that, my Lord Geraldo."
