The Cloister Club

"Brother Careteg, my prayers have not beene answerede of late..... the plague drawse neare...... anothere deathe in the towne......" 

<i'm one half of brothers careteg>

*looks up from gardening, concerned* "Brother Careteg, I fear it. I have heard ill news from the port at Calais. They say many are stricken. What aid can we provide?"

*he walks over to Brother Careteg and stares deeply into his Brother's eyes. There is a hint of longing, but for what he cannot say* "Brothere.... youe are so kinde....always thinkinge of otheres....

*Stands up, dusts off hands.* "But what can we do? We must pray for the townsfolk. Hard times are ahead."

"praye... yes we muste praye... hard times...."

*he looks off into the distance and then back at his brother*

"I do feare for the townsfolke. And I feare for the cloister..... I loathe to lose whate is preciouse to me"

*Brother Careteg looks down at Brother Careteg and takes stock of the garden.*

"Do youe need help kind Brother? Your turnips are so plentifule....... always many to harvest when Brother is helming our garden....."

*Brother Careteg smiles at Brother Careteg*

"Thank you, brother. The garden flourishes and we must work, although it is the gift of many hands and not mine alone. Our Lord is good to us in difficult times. Here, fetch the barrow. We may hoe the vegetables and gather them for the stores."

*He begins to break off turnip greens and dig up the tubers.*

*Brother Careteg kneels down and begins to gather the broken off tops of the turnips. He works quickly and sloppily, sneaking furtive glances at his brother all the while. When they've finished a row, he stands and wipes his hands off on his thick wool robes. He looks at his brother nervously*

"Brothere..... you have some earthe on your cowle"

*(there is no earthe on the cowl)*

"Woulde you like me to..... remove it......?"

"Thank you, brother, I would appreciate that."

*Brother Careteg gulps, clearly having gotten farther than he expected*

"ohe"

*Brother Careteg hefts some turnips into the wheelbarrow and prepares to push it towards the root cellar, whistling cheerfully*

*Brother Careteg makes an awkward start twoardees the oldere man*

"here brothere"

*He swipes at the cowle*

BONG BONG BONG The sound of the monastery bell peals across the landscape.

Abbot Jude rushes into the garden just as Brother Careteg's hand brushes Brother Careteg. "The plague! Its here! One of the brothers is sick! Quick, Brother Careteg and Brother Careteg, we must gather in the church and pray for his health."

Brother Careteg the older grabs Brother Careteg's hand. "Of course - we must at once. The turnip harvest may wait for tomorrow. Brother Careteg, we have more vital work now." He pulls Brother Careteg towards the church by the hand, moving quickly in his eagerness to help.

"Father, which brother has fallen ill?"

*Brother careteg the younger, delighted to be holding his brother's hand, looks to the abbott, flushed*

"yese, who?"

Abbot Jude sees this scandalous contact and quickly averts his eyes. These are frightening times, there are more important things to worry about than two men taking comfort in each other's company.

"Its Brother Guildeberg. He went to the town the other day to tend to one of the sick villagers, and now he is struck with fever. Come quickly."