First to Market
by Myna Chang
Apennine Peninsula
9th Century C.E.
The old man’s breath rattled, brittle, crackling like autumn leaves. Surely death would come for Abbot Ignatius before the dawn.
Peter couldn’t stop Death, but he would let no one else near his master. He glanced at the door: still securely barred. An axe stood ready.
He nudged a pot of barley water closer to the fire, then sat at the Abbot’s bedside. “Warm broth may soothe your cough.”
Ignatius smiled. “Thank you, Peter, for comforting me in my final hours.”
Peter stroked his master’s wrinkled hands. Fragile skin did little to conceal the bones of Ignatius’s famous “hand of blessing”, with its distinctly fused fingers.
“Do you wonder, Peter, why I can’t cure myself? After healing so many?”
Peter shook his head, eyes again darting to the door. News of the Abbot’s illness had spread through the countryside. Relic traffickers soon would arrive to steal the holy man’s priceless body. It was said the Carolingian Emperor himself promised a fat purse of gold for Ignatius’s venerated fingers.
The Abbot raised his special hand. It trembled, casting flickering shadows in the firelight. “Did it ever truly hold miracles?”
“Everyone believes so, Father.”
A rasping cough stole the Abbot’s reply. Gasping, his frail body convulsed, and he spat blood into the rough cloth Peter held for him. When his breathing finally eased, he scowled at his traitorous hand. “The Emperor may be sorely disappointed with this purchase.”
Peter remained silent as he helped Ignatius settle back onto his pallet. Quiet moments passed, and then the dying man spoke again, voice aflutter.
“Please don’t let the ruffians take my hands.”
Peter swallowed. “I promise, Father.”
A clamor erupted outside the little room. Peter leaped up, shoved a chair in front of the door, and gripped the axe.
Ignatius clutched his blanket. “Already? I’d hoped they’d wait until my soul had departed this body.”
“As did I, Father, but I can delay no longer.” He strode to Ignatius’s bed.
“Peter? What are you doing?”
“Forgive me, Father. Charlemagne has doubled the bounty.”
About the author:
Myna Chang writes flash and short stories. Her work has been featured or is forthcoming in X-R-A-Y Lit Mag, New World Writing, Reflex Fiction, FlashFlood, Atlas & Alice, Writers Resist, Copperfield Review, and Daily Science Fiction. Anthologies featuring her stories include the Grace & Gravity collection Furious Gravity IX and the forthcoming This is What America Looks Like anthology by Washington Writers’ Publishing House. Read more at MynaChang.com or on Twitter at @MynaChang.
About the artwork
The illustration is St. Francis Preaching to the BIrds by Giotto di Bondone, fresco 1297-1299. Basilica of Saint Francis of Assissi, Assissi, Italy. In the public domain, via WikiArt.