AVIGNON 7 January 1348 AD
At three in the afternoon, Marius and Dominique, Fabien in her arms, left their house to walk to the cathedral and attend Luc"s family bereavement service. A sharp pain erupted in a troublesome tooth and Marius rubbed his cheek against the bitter cold, tugging down his hood. Dominique held her child tight to her bosom, ensuring her shawl covered every part of him. Neither spoke. Silence expressed their emotions more than words.
The setting sun bathed the rooftops in a warm orange glow; the chimneys stood upright as if saluting the citizens below, peaceful and content. And, this on a day the people had no right to feel thus. One street or two away from their doorsteps, the lifeless bodies of an innocent boy or girl awaited interment in the cloying earth. The warm
