The moment the door creaked open, Giradin heard the sounds of bubbling and boiling on the other side. When he entered, he saw the back of Mu's bald head as he gently stirred compounds in their measuring beakers with a glass rod. He wore a scarf over his mouth and goggles over his eyes, protection from the blue and red mist which arose from the alembics, retorts, and crucibles on his work table.

"Ah, you're here," said Mu. With a pair of steel tongs he removed a ceramic crucible from the furnace in the corner. "Thank you for coming."

Giradin's eyes trailed along the jars on the shelves along the walls, each filled with strange ingredients and compounds with labels he could not read. Some looked like animal parts. Others, he suspected, may even be human. "What is all this?"

Mu set the crucible down on his table and walked over to Giradin with a scarf and a pair of goggles in hand. "My laboratory," said Mu. He held the scarf and goggles out to Giradin. "Here. You'll want to wear these. Unless you enjoy hallucinating, which I would fully understand."

Giradin took the scarf and goggles, securing both where they belonged on his face. "Did you send for me because you want me to learn alchemy?" he asked.

Mu tilted his head to one side. "You know, now that I think about it, that's not a bad idea. I can start teaching you all I know, if you're willing to learn." He turned to a book on his desk and turned a few pages, his fingers following along the letters of the page. "But, no, not today. I'm here because I need a favor from you."

While Mu searched his shelves for a particular ingredient he needed, Giradin asked, "Do you need me to retrieve the liver of a new-born babe for you? Or is it eye of newt this time?"

Mu snorted. "I'm not a witch, boy. I'm an apothecary. No..." Mu pulled a jar of yellow powder off the wall, and then a jar full of black seeds. "See, I've been treating some of the patients we have in the sick ward, and may have stumbled onto something quite helpful. A little black elderberry... a dash of echinacea... sulphur... nether seeds... aaaand a few other trace ingredients, and we have what I call Ida's Hope."

Mu added the ingredients he'd gathered into his mortar and pestle. "My patient in the sick ward has been taking it for the past several weeks, and the plague has stopped spreading through him. Praise Allah!"

Giradin's eyes flew wide and his heart soared. "Is this a cure?"

Mu shook his head. "Probably not."

Giradin's heart sank again and he hung his head.

Mu chuckled. "Sorry to get your hopes up. No, it doesn't seem like a cure, but it does seem to be a treatment that could help patients in the early stages of the disease."

"What do you need me for?" asked Giradin.

Mu finished grinding up the yellow powder and black seeds together and added them to the alembic. "Just because one patient got a little better... or, rather, stopped getting any worse... that doesn't mean Ida's Hope actually did anything. For all I know, any number of forces beyond my control may have had a hand in this. I need more patients. Many many more. Maybe a few hundred. That's what I need you for."

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Giradin placed a hand over his heart. "You need me to gather patients for you?"

"Not exactly," said Mu. "There's a city called Elekvaz which is rumored to have become infected with plague. Melcher Fitz is about to send men to secure the city so others can go in and examine the people there and see if it is true. If it is... well... it will be a repeat of Isselhan."

Giradin cringed as the cruel memories of what happened at Isselhan flooded back into his mind. He still remembered the ashes falling like snow as the city burned, and the cold, accusing eyes of the dead.

"I need you to persuade Melcher Fitz to let us try Ida's Hope on the people of Elekvaz," said Mu. "I've already told him my plan, but Fitz is under enough scrutiny these days without being seen to take advice from a moor." Mu turned to Giradin, and his cheeks pushed upward as if he smiled beneath his scarf. "He needs a good Christian to make the suggestion, and he needs said Christian to do it in front of an audience. That way no one can accuse him of taking orders from a heathen."

Giradin groaned. "He can't listen to the apothecary about experimental cures?"

Mu stared at Giradin in silence for a moment before saying, "Look, I'm going to be honest with you. My people? The Mohammedans? Many of them would love to see Christendom fall to the plague. They'd see it as a sign that Allah hates the Infidels. Two things they don't realize that I do: first, that the plague will not stop at the borders of Christendom. Second, that all people are Allah's sacred creations, and we should not let anyone fall sick and die, if we can help it."

Giradin shook his head. "I don't understand... what does that have to do with..."

Mu raised his index finger. "Any advice that comes from me will be suspect, especially to those among the Crows who fought in the Crusades. They'd fear, and rightfully so, that my intention is to spread the plague rather than fight it. But, if you make the suggestion they'll have a little more confidence in the plan. So, go to Melcher Fitz and tell him we want to try an experimental medicine on the people of Elekvaz. Tell him he can still purge the city and burn the bodies of the infected if it doesn't work, but we should at least give them this chance."

Giradin nodded. "Very well. I'll talk to Fitz."

"Good lad," said Mu. "Oh! One more thing... Please suggest to him that Fulk lead our team."

Giradin's heart raced. "Suggest Fulk? But... he doesn't want to lead! He threatened to rip Shlomo's balls off if he was made leader!"

Mu chuckled. "You still can't tell his empty threats from his sincere ones? Forget what he said, think about what he did. In Kinhan, Fulk took charge. He gave us all orders, and he had complete control over the situation. Good leaders aren't the ones who seek power, they're the ones willing to make hard choices and deal with whatever sleep they may lose over those choices. Fulk is more than willing to do what's necessary."

"Why can't Shlomo lead us?" Giradin asked.

Mu snorted. "Please... Father Hewlett died because the people of Neuhausen thought us a bunch of Jew-lovers. Can you imagine how much more people would hate us if a Jew actually led one of our teams?"

"What about you?" Giradin asked.

The moment the words left Giradin's lips, both men burst into laughter.

"Aye, that's what we need!" Mu choked out between guffaws. "A moor in charge of a team of plague doctors! Ha! That's the only thing I can think of worse than a Jew in charge. The people would eat us alive!"

Giradin wanted to suggest himself as the next leader, but the idea of taking charge of this team struck him as truly terrifying. He wouldn't mind so much just helping the team come to a decision when opinions were split, but he feared he'd never be able to make snap decisions when all their fates were in his hands.

"Fulk is the best candidate among us, isn't he?" Giradin said.

Mu nodded. "Sadly, yes."

Giradin sighed. "What does it say about the times when a murderer is our best hope for survival?"

Mu shrugged. "I know what Shlomo would say to that. Moses himself was a murderer."

"Blasphemy!" Giradin grunted.

"Ask a priest some time," said Mu. "Or a rabbi. Moses committed cold-blooded murder. That's why he left for the wilderness, where he found the burning bush. It's not what we've done in the past that defines us, it's what we do now, and what we choose to do here forward."