Matteo stood silent and nodded his head. As somber and tragic as it was, this moment of the deceased belonged to her and her family. Though he was a great friend, he knew that Maria's final hour belonged to Isabella and Antonio. He remained silent and waited for Antonio to decide what to do next.

As they stood against the cool spring gales, a subtle rocking broke the silence. Down the path rode a carriage, and its driver was a man who wore a waxy black leather cloak and hood. His face resembled a skeletal bird, and two flat goggles protruded from his mask where his eyes would be.

Antonio studied the figure and tried to see the man's eyes, but he couldn't. The glass of the goggles was black, and the hood obscured them. The man wore waxy black leather gloves and boots, and at his side was a single stick painted black. It shone against the pale sunlight. On each side of the plague doctor sat a single guard with sword and shield. The shields were white with a red cross painted across them. The guards were clad in iron chainmail, helmets, and greaves. Behind the plague doctor was an archer, who already had his bow drawn on them. Antonio did not know why, but knew that if they were to run, it would be futile.

Behind the marksman was a carriage large enough for a few people. It rocked and creaked as it rode over cobble stones and sunk into small pits in the road. The plague doctor arrived before Antonio's cottage. He rested the steeds' reins and climbed out of his seat. As he descended a slight ladder, his outfit squeaked, and when he spoke, it sounded guttural and faded.

The plague doctor said, "greetings, Contadino family and friend. I am Pietro Guaritore, Siena's primary physician." Pietro walked toward the open grave, and his boots gave a wretched squishing noise with each step. He looked in and said, "I have been informed that one of you, well her, bore the purple blemishes of god's wrath. I suggested to the church that those who have been near such individuals be quarantined. The lazaretto's just across the way have been prepared," he pointed at the edge of the city's walls. At its side were a dozen stone huts —which had been erected hastily. He drove his cane back into the earth and leaned upon it. He continued, "I will perform a physical inspection. If there is anything to arouse suspicion, I will place you where you can be cared for. Your quarantine will also keep others safe."

Isabella's throat tightened and her hands fidgeted. She thought about the bruise on her forearm. The plague doctor limped to Matteo and examined his pits, neck, arms, and legs. Matteo was clean. He then searched Antonio and the result was much the same. The doctor stepped before Isabella and tilted her head with his cane. He swooped in close to her, and his beak nearly rubbed against her chest. He stared and studied her, and his head swooped from side to side.

His leather outfit curled and whined as he examined her pits, and then her arms. He turned her forearm within his hand and drew his cane across the purple bruise. Isabella said, "I hurt it digging the grave. That's a bruise, not a bubo."

The doctor's head tilted as he examined it with his other eye, and said, "well, we cannot be too sure about that." His fingers wrapped around Isabella's wrists, and she pulled as his grip tightened. The two guards leaped from the carriage. They drew their swords and stood between Isabella, Antonio, and Matteo. As the plague doctor pulled her, she stumbled against the cobble stones of the road, and her hair swayed in the wind. She reached for Antonio, and her hands shook as they dangled in the void. Isabella screamed then, and reached as far as she could. The plague doctor's grip proved relentless.

Antonio stood still as his heart raced and sweat dripped from his chin. His hands shook as a sword remained drawn to his neck. Isabella fought against the plague doctor as he pulled her behind the carriage, and then placed her into it. The doors were shut, and the padlock engaged. The plague doctor climbed atop his carriage and called for his guards to return. They did so and released Antonio and Matteo. As the plague doctor turned the carriage around, Isabella reached out of the window. Between thick and heavy iron bars, Isabella groped in vain. She screamed for her father, but he could do nothing.

As the carriage rolled across the hill, Antonio stood against the wind. The early spring gales pushed against him. Antonio searched in vain for the right words to say, but only found dread and terror, causing him to quiver. Matteo sensed his friend's fear and placed his hand on his shoulder. Together they walked somberly into Antonio's cottage. The heat of the fireplace enveloped the dwelling. Atop the table in the center of the room sat a plate of leftover pasta and bread. Matteo lifted the plate and brought it to Antonio, and then seated him at Isabella's bed before placing it in his lap.

Antonio closed his eyes as he bit off a piece of bread and chewed. The taste was bitter and stale. He gazed into the flames of the fireplace and realized that to stay in Siena was certain death. Matteo sensed what Antonio was thinking and dumped his sack of flowers onto the table. He filled the sack with grains, preserved meat, and rummaged about for more food. The famine had struck them and left Antonio and his family little to spare. Matteo placed the sack of food into Antonio's lap and then stood beside the door. It creaked as he leaned against it.

Matteo said, "I plan on leaving soon. You should do the same." He then left through the door. Bitter winds breathed into the cottage as the door shut behind Matteo. Antonio remembered an old tree stump about an hour's walk away, beside a small lake. He decided it would be there he would store his sack of food. And now reaching for the door with sack in hand, he returned to the outside world. The plan was simple: rescue his daughter and then walk to Ferrara. A trip that would take two days seemed like a long time, but with food and blankets, Antonio knew they would be okay.

Antonio investigated both directions of the cobblestoned path and found that it was empty. He grinned and began to walk away from Siena. After about two miles, or thirty minutes, a small lake appeared in the distance. Antonio turned right into the forest. The trees stood tall and remained skeletal. Buds had sprouted upon their branches, and they were ready for spring. Antonio examined the trees, in search of a particular tree that had a triangular hole at its base. He found it, and from there he turned left and walked forward. A hollow tree stump appeared in the distance, and Antonio scurried towards it. 

https://youtu.be/GWVYx81sr-U