Why are you intruding upon my time of reflection? he asked.

His tone was quiet and yet I still felt as if he were yelling. Your Grace, I have come to see you about the houses.

Which houses?

The ones near the marketplace that have been boarded shut.

What of them?

I was led to believe, Your Grace, that you had instructed that the boards be erected.

That is a civic concern.

I was told by a councilman that you might have offered the council guidance on this particular matter.

Of course I did, he said without a note of contrition.

I opened my mouth to reply but he silenced me with an extended finger while the reflection of the flames danced off his bejeweled ring. My supplicants have informed me of how rapidly the death spreads in the vicinity of those houses, he said. So much so that there is no time or space to bury or consecrate the corpses.

But Your Grace, surely not everyone inside is afflicted.

These are cataclysmic times. Perhaps even End of Days. You of all people should know this.

Why board one building shut, Your Grace, when we know this sickness to be borne by man and animal alike? It spreads in the air and poisons our wells. No doubt it also seeps up from the ground and falls from the heavens with the rains.

To contain one significant source is to prevent the suffering of many. My personal physician, Doctor Volaro, believes this step to be prudent. Perhaps we should invite him to contribute to this discourse?

The Archbishop lifted a small bell and rang it. A servant rushed to his side. The Archbishop muttered instructions. Within minutes a stooped old man hobbled into the room, his neck crooked and one shoulder tilted higher than the other. I might have mistaken Doctor Volaro for a peasant were it not for his maroon cape, gilded with golden thread.

The Archbishop recounted our discussion to the aged physician.

Mister Pasqua, Volaro said. I do not pretend to know all the primitive ways of you barbers. But there is very little of the methods of the physician that I have not studied in my many years.

I am deeply honored to be in your presence, Doctor, I said with a small bow.

Surely even you, a common barber, must have noticed how quickly the pestilence spreads from one person to the next? Volaro asked, his voice rattling as only the elderly’s will.

Indeed, sir, I see it every day.

Then you must understand how vital it is to prevent the contact between the sick and well.

I could not agree more, I said. However, Doctor Volaro, even if those houses were the origin of the city’s plague, it has long ago spread beyond them. And the people trapped inside represent little more than a drop in a bucket.

Buckets are filled one drop at a time, Volaro said.

I could see I would need a more compelling argument if I were to find any hope of freeing the entrapped denizens. What about the mice, rats, and other vermin? I asked.