"Clearly," he sneered. He took the matter to his own hands, trying to leave himself. The lingering pain on his abdomen had spiked to a noticeable one as he felt the throbbing pain at the side.
He hissed, one arm supporting him before pushing himself back to sit, legs on the edge of the bed and hands on the side.
"Lie down, Bertram. Right now." Maximillian forced him down back on the bed. "You need to recover, so please, don't strain yourself further. I'm begging you."
Bertram scoffed lightly. He kept the mood lighter as he told him, "I said —augh… I said the same thing, but it was a firm rejection from you. Never expect me to say otherwise." He attempted to stand after pushing away Maximillian, and he did though he leaned over the table, clutching at his side.
Sitting upright, Maximillian yanked him towards his lap. "Ah… ssss" Bertram hissed when Maximillian touched his wounded side. He gave an apology after, but Maximillian still said to him "See? You're in no condition to leave."
Bertram's breath went shallower and shallower the longer he stayed in such a fixed position. He didn't need to look to feel the gaze of the lanky, robed being. "Leave for a moment, please. I'm begging you."
This time however, his companion agreed. There was something that was stressing him out, terrifying him to the point that he became a mess of nerves. And so, he set him down gently, back to his original position. "You know I'm here, right?" Maximillian asked.
"Yes."
"I'm always here for you," he stated. "So, can you tell me what's bothering you?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I did." Silence. The chirps of birds filled in the blank space where they could have spoken.
Maximillian sighed. "I would if you told me."
Bertram slumped over on the lap of his companion. "Death has been stalking me."
What once was a frown became a face of terror. That monumental information he was given made him aghast and it shook Maximillian to the core. He was taking it badly, opening and closing his mouth to say something, anything at all. Yet, he could say nothing as he tried to process it properly. "Death?" he asked.
"I saw his pale horse outside. The one it rode when I yelled at you to go faster."
"What?"
Bertram whispered weakly "Never mind it."
"No, no. I… I need time," Maximillian replied, hugging his companion tight. "I can't wrap my head around it fully, I simply don't understand properly. You seeing 'Death' and all… It just seems insane."
"Do you think of me as insane?" Bertram asked him. He turned around and saw the face of Maximillian, his eyes now glassy. Maximillian himself felt vile when he said that. Why would he think of such a thing?!
Yet… he couldn't. Why couldn't he? He isn't insane. Tell him he isn't. It's easy. Why can't you tell him? Open your mouth, and say one word. Say no. Say no! SAY NO!!!
His mouth quivered instead. There's no person that has such a power as looking at Death personified. Logic and reason had no explanation for it. His religion has an answer for it, yet he hates it. "Are you sure it is Death?" he asked desperately.
"Why would I ever lie to you?" he retorted back. Bertram scoffed, solemn look at his downtrodden face. He wiped away the waters that nearly fell at his face. "Maybe I am insane," he said.
"I didn't say that you were."
"Your silence said it so," Bertram hissed.
"I swear to you, I do not think that you are insane. Not even once would I ever call you such a harmful thing."
Bertram chuckled, shaking his head. "I believe that, but I do not believe you have done the same to me."
"I believe you! You know I do!" Maximillian yelled out. But there was one thing…
"All I know is that you do not believe it. In fact, you can't believe it at all, can you?" Bertram said in addition to that "I've become manic that I've seen something similar to a daemon."
Maximillian raised his brow, smirking. "…Are you sure it's worse than daemons?"
Bertram took a look at him, a monotone face as he said "No. It seems that you're worse than both combined."
Maximillian pouted. "You wound me."
"And you're making light of the situation." Bertram huffed. "If I die, I blame it on you."
"Now you say that?" Maximillian laughed. "I've been saying that for a while now, crying myself for three nights thinking such a thing, thinking you won't wake up, and now you say such a thing?"
"Especially when that happened, yes," Bertram replied immediately.
His companion sighed heavily. "You've been such a great comfort. I'm glad you told me such a thing," Maximilian said sarcastically. He then set Bertram back on the bed, rising up to say "I must go to the apothecary now, however. You've been too hot and feverish."
"What, and leave me here?"
"You said that I was worse than death and daemons combined, might as well leave to rid you of me."
"That was just a joke, Maxi," he laughed nervously. "See? Even I'm laughing."
"I don't believe that you are," he replied back. It was obvious that he was scared. "You've got a fever and I have to find medicine for it." He did start to leave, yet the sleeves of his tunic was yanked.
Bertram choked at his words that he wanted to say, but nothing will properly come out. Maximillian had to yank his hand off weakly to be released.
"I swear to Gott if you accidentally poison me, I will curse your entire bloodline."
"A little bit harsh now, isn't it?" Maximillian chuckled. "What, you're now a witch then?"
"Yes, what of it?" he answered, making his companion laugh.
"Well, I must leave now." He walked towards the open door, turning towards Bertram before he left.
Bertram said to him "Come back posthaste. I don't want you to be too far."
"You nag like my mother."
"I'll stand up and kick you out if I have to," he told him, attempting to threaten him by doing so but he failed spectacularly, falling back to his bed. Maximillian winced at that.
"Take a rest."
"Ja, ja, now go," he motioned with his arms, before he supported himself back to sitting up.
Bertram took a deep breath. All he had to do was not look back. His fear was still there, and he can't deny it. He was grasping the bed that lost its sheet.
He heard the straw bed on the other side get rustled over. He laid on his bed, forcefully closing his eyes, curling himself up once again even if it hurt his wounded side.
A skinny hand held Bertram's shoulder. His breathing was haggard and his head ached, befuddled, did his mind go. He wishes to scream, to cry for Maximillian, yet he cannot breathe properly. Every time he took it in, every precious air he could gain, gone within an instant, growing delirious over it.
"Finally doing what I asked you?" the monk said to Maximillian.
"Not the leeches one," he said back.
"That one was obvious," the monk retorted back. "Should I ask our abbot about your friend's problem?"
Maximillian paused his walking, prompting the other to stop. He… hadn't really thought of that. His mind blurted out "You've heard everything?" rather than replying instead. He immediately said "Don't answer that. It's obvious anyone could hear our squabbling."
"Him seeing his death and all. We heard that yes, and that concerns us, Landgraf."
Maximillian, rather than correcting him, said "No, no. I… You don't need to call the abbot." He added "I'll take care of him. At least I'll try before I'll eventually leave."
"You can't ease a burden on your own," the monk told him.
Maximillian hummed. "Tell me, what's your name, so I may remember you. We'll be together for a little while longer, I may as well know who I'm talking to."
"Isaac," the monk said.
Nodding along, he said "Nice to meet you." He then started walking again, saying "Well then, I'm off."
"Do you even have money?"
Maximillian stopped dead on his tracks. Ah. It seems that he forgot such a thing. "T'was in my armour," he said, rushing to get it. He had been forced to get rid of it momentarily in a shed. Didn't feel right to wear such a thing, it made him look like a true barbarian.
"Ah here it is," he said to himself, finding the pouch. He opened it to find a handful of coins, a bit of copper and silver coins galore. He closed it with the drawstrings, tying it around his ribbon girdle.
Walking away, he took a glimpse where his companion was. He saw Bertram, sleeping, one arm overstretched over his head. If he had stayed longer, he would've seen the pained expression on his face.
Maximillian didn't see Isaac. He promptly pushed himself forward towards the apothecary, in which he had to roam around the place. Many were on the outskirts, workers ploughing right outside the town. He saw older women tend to their garden in front of their houses. Beans and cabbage, alongside some with daffodils on their pots.
He greeted them when he passed their houses of stone, walking on the dirt path that led him to a well. As he walked over, he contemplated. Should he annoy Johannes again, or should he go and ask Henrik instead for the layout of this place.
He saw faeces of stray dogs on his left, beside the shop filled with clothing. He sighed to himself. The buildings were spaced out tightly, each guilds being plastered on them. Then, Maximillian decided that he might as well go to Henrik rather than be annoying. Or, well…
He turned back to one of the older women he passed by. A smile was given to him, although he saw that there was no bit of joy given when he saw the eyes. "Hello again," she greeted.
"I'll be out of your hair, I only need to know where the apothecary is."
The woman he was talking to stood up straight, one hand on her him looking at the ground. She was clicking her tongue, attempting to remember where it was. "Try to look behind the fabrics shop."
"Thank you," he said and left quickly, squeezing in between the shop and the other building he didn't care for. Interestingly, he didn't have to turn around to see the apothecary, it was already in front of him. Maximillian clutched his pouch, setting himself free as he passed by bypassers to get inside the place.
He was met with another woman, probably in her 40s. "Good morning," he said.
"Morning," she greeted, wiping her wet hands with cloth. "In an errand or something?" she asked, adding in "You look pretty healthy to need something here."
"Ah, well, do you have anything for fevers and stomach aches?" he asked.
"Yes I have." The physician went to her inventory.
He waited for her, taking a glance at a painting on the wall. A skeleton, in the centre sitting and talking with a man and a woman on each side, ambiguous in their class. "That's interesting."
"Hm?"
"This painting. Where did you get it?"
"My friend gave it to me."
"Oh really?"
"I can't commission something as drab as this now, could I?" she laughed, bringing over the medicine, one in a vial and another a small pouch filled with pills. "Three pfennig."
He opened his pouch, giving her his best silver coins, which were thicker than the rest. Maximillian murmured "You know, my friend saw something many couldn't, but I feel as if it's the same as this skeleton. He said he saw Death, especially when he was bleeding out, he said to me, but I can't fathom it. The only thing I could do is to believe him, because I didn't wish for him to be afraid of being alone in dealing with it."
"Perhaps it is a fear of death," the physician mused. "No one wants to die, but mayhaps this is a way that Gott is letting him confront his fear of it."
"Maybe." Giving thanks, Maximillian thought about those words when he walked back.