Chapter Twenty #7
Soon the carriage passed through the city square and stopped in front of a large building belonging to the merchant guild. There, the women sold the ornaments they had collected and purchased ample supplies of food, oil, and clean linen.
Since the valuables had fetched quite a sum, they had thirty derham coins to spare even after filling three carriages with aid supplies. The women decided to donate the remainder to the monastery and climbed back inside the carriage.
After riding for ten more minutes, Idsilla pointed to a ramshackle building outside the window. “That is the shelter.”
It was a wooden, two-story structure that looked as though it had been built a century before.
“It used to be a church, but it now serves as a refuge for orphans and vagrants who have nowhere else to go,” Idsilla explained. “According to the clerics, many of the families who lost their breadwinner in the war are currently staying there.”
Maxi furrowed her brows. The shelter looked like it could collapse at any moment.
The boards covering the roof rattled precariously each time the wind blew, and vagrants in tattered garb formed a long line in front of its doors.
The soldiers who were escorting the ladies spotted the crowd and quickly locked the doors of the carriage.
“Please remain seated,” one of the soldiers instructed. “We will go in and speak with the clerics first.”
Idsilla nodded curtly, and Maxi peered out the window to study the faces of the vagrants.
Most were young women carrying children on their backs. Were they widows who could no longer make ends meet? Looking at their dirty, grief-stricken faces made Maxi’s stomach twist in knots.
Although she did not wish to even think about it, Maxi could not help but imagine what would happen to her if she were to lose Riftan.
She, at least, would not have to beg like these women.
Instead, she would probably be forced to return to Croyso Castle, where she would face harsh abuse at the hands of her father until she died.
Maxi bit her lip. Alternatively, if her father wished it, she could be married off again. Maxi could not decide which fate was worse. Even supposing that the heavens would be on her side and she was permitted to enter a convent, she would undoubtedly spend the rest of her life missing Riftan.
Maxi touched the shekel coin inside her pocket. Running her finger over its rough, copper surface seemed to calm her nerves a little.
After about five minutes had passed, the soldiers returned and opened the carriage door for them.
“My ladies, we have brought the clerics. You may step out now.”
The women tentatively exited the carriage and were greeted by clerics in worn, monastic habits.
“We thank you for coming to such a humble place,” one of the clerics said.
Alyssa took charge and spoke for the group of women. “We have heard that you are going through some hardship, so we brought food and necessities with us.”
The clerics glanced at the carriages behind the women and gave them a grateful smile. “Thank you. It so happens that we were about to request royal aid.”
Alyssa’s eyes widened. “Is the situation that dire?”
“Yes. With so many people requiring assistance, it has become impossible for us to manage the facility with only the funds from the church,” a cleric admitted with a sigh.
“I am sure you are aware that the refugees alone are too many to count. Together with the widows and orphans, we are barely able to provide everyone with a meal each day.” He mustered a feeble smile.
“Would you like a tour of the facility?”
Looking unsure, Alyssa glanced at the other noblewomen. Before any of them could come to a decision, Idsilla bravely stepped forward.
“Yes, of course,” she said firmly. “We should take a look around so we know what to bring next time.”
Taking the lead, Idsilla followed the clerics to the shelter. The rest of the noblewomen reluctantly trailed behind her. Maxi cautiously followed the group.
The shelter was no different from a barn.
Rows of closely packed wooden tables were crammed with scrawny children slurping watery soup.
Even more children were slumped on the floor, gnawing on pieces of bread.
On one side, the elderly lay on makeshift beds made of stacked wooden planks, shifting with discomfort on the rough boards.
On the other side, women dressed in frayed garments huddled on grimy blankets, some with babies clutched at their breasts.
Contrary to Alyssa’s expectations, none of the people inside paid any attention to the noblewomen who had come in the name of charity. Their anguish was so all-encompassing that they seemed to have lost any interest in their surroundings.
The atmosphere was bleaker than any of the noblewomen had expected. Even Idsilla, who had stepped into the facility in high spirits, looked disconcerted. They eventually slipped outside without venturing to the second floor, rattled by the harsh reality of the situation.
Alyssa heaved a heavy sigh. “I did not think the conditions here would be so poor. I will try to collect more donations when we return to the monastery.”
“Please do, my lady,” a cleric implored in earnest, clasping her hands.
From then on, the noblewomen of Livadon started visiting the shelter regularly to offer donations. Sometimes they even helped hand out meals or made new clothes for the children.
While some of the women were repulsed by the decrepit building and the vagrants dressed in rags, most seemed happy to have something to occupy themselves. Maxi was no different, and she always went along with the others whenever they visited.
Maxi did not visit the shelter out of a great sense of righteousness.
It was mostly because having something to do instead of being idle at the monastery made her less anxious, and being physically tired helped her sleep.
She had recently been suffering from severe insomnia.
The gruesome faces of dead soldiers would fill her mind as she lay awake in the dark.
It was only on days she went to the shelter that she was able to sleep undisturbed by nightmares.
Were it allowed, she would have visited every day.
However, the women were required to ask the clerics for permission to leave the grounds and were obliged to use the basilica’s carriages and guards.
Since they did not wish to burden the already overwhelmed clerics, the women limited their visits to once or twice a week.
On the days when they did not have an excursion, they gathered at the pavilion to sew tunics and blankets for the orphans. Even the maidservants helped with the sewing from time to time, but no matter how many new clothes or linens they donated, they were all tattered or gone within a week.
The missing items were apparently due to thieving vagrants. Food and other necessities were also frequently stolen, but the shelter did not have the resources to prevent it.
Word that the nobles were supporting the facility must have spread; more and more people came to seek help, leaving the shelter even more sorely lacking in food, clothes, and room. Maxi quickly realized that Levan was not as peaceful as it appeared on the surface.
The consequences of the monster invasion sprouted across the capital like poisonous fungi.
The outskirts of the city overflowed with refugees from the north fleeing from the monster army, and the prices of goods soared.
Though merchants from other kingdoms arrived at Levan’s ports with loaded ships, it did nothing to alleviate the food shortage.
Most of the stock was sent as military provisions.
It went without saying that it was the poor who suffered the most.
Whenever she visited the shelter, Maxi saw starving people wandering the streets like ghosts.
Although vagrants rarely gathered near the city center or port where security was tight, they took up most of the space along the city walls.
As the number of impoverished people surged by the day, the sighs of the clerics at the shelter grew heavier and heavier.
One early afternoon, Maxi was at the shelter with the other noblewomen when she heard a cleric’s terrible prediction.
“If we fail to separate the sick from the general population soon, a plague might break out.”
Dozens of infirm men and women lay crammed together on the floor of the wide room, their bodies reeking of vomit. One of the noblewomen struggled for air as she backed away toward the entrance.
Maxi looked at the cleric in horror. “A-Are you saying…that they are all sick with a c-contagion?”
The cleric hastily shook his head. “Please do not worry; it is only food poisoning. Things have been spoiling quickly in this hot weather, so more and more people are coming down with stomach ailments. But the problem is especially serious in the refugee camps. Since the people there are already so debilitated, even a minor illness could be life threatening.”
The old cleric clicked his tongue.
“Many have already died. We could not leave their bodies unburied, so they were apparently thrown into ditches or secretly buried in the forest…. The situation is dire. If the dead are not given a proper burial, the death energy might spread throughout the city and cause a plague.”
At the cleric’s somber words, the noblewomen’s faces grew as white as sheets. Abruptly realizing that his audience comprised ladies who had spent most of their lives sheltered within the confines of their bedchambers, the old cleric cleared his throat.
“Do forgive me for such unpleasant talk. It appears that the bleak situation has made me quite insensitive. I should not have mentioned it in front of such exalted company….”
The cleric smiled in an attempt to lighten the mood, but the air remained heavy.
Idsilla asked gravely, “If what you say is true, shouldn’t you treat the sick as quickly as possible?”