I write this now with shaking hand in the dead of night; a time when respite from my daily duties allows me the privacy to do so. I fear that I may be very ill, indeed. This is something that has been happening for some time, but I wouldn’t admit it even to myself.

I am not a young man, and the past few months have placed more of a trial upon the well being of my person than I knew or cared to admit. I suspect that I have the same condition my cousin Armanda suffered and succumbed to. She was a healthy, hearty girl until her lungs began to water and bleed. She eventually could do nothing but lay in bed, spent and much older than her true age. It took her several terrible months to die.

As I am the healer in our small community and the closest thing to a ‘doctor’ that any of us will ever know I was called upon to minister to her illness as best I could. There was little I could do but comfort her with certain herbal concoctions and medicines whose existence and function I learned through much desperate delving into medical tomes old and new. It turned out that there was no cure for this ailment and the best I could do for her was to drug her into near senselessness. There came a time, finally, where further suffering was pointless. I eased her medications so that she would be coherent and spoke at length with her. Though she was coherent, pain wracked her frail form and she spoke in whispers, gasping for breath. She made her decision and I honored it. Her normal medications were increased the requisite amount and she passed into a peaceful sleep, never more to awaken. The sight of her frail, wasted form pale in death upon sweat-stained sheets haunts my memory to this day, nigh on 20 years later.

I don’t know for certain if I will also succumb to this ailment or if it is, indeed, the same one. I do know that the symptoms are the same if my memory serves me well enough. I am at times wracked by coughs and I run a constant fever. I frequently sweat uncontrollably and blood has begun to appear in my phlegm. I have good days and I have bad days though the bad days are beginning to be greater in number than the good. My medicines help, but I have had to increase the dosages. I do not wish to alarm my master, the good Valliere as I still hold out a faint hope that I will recover before I have to admit my illness to him. He is a good, kind man but I worry about him and he is, at times, quite at a loss without me. I fear that he would blame himself if he knew the true extent of my illness when, in fact, age and circumstance are more to blame.

I have told Master William of my ailment and sworn him to secrecy. I have done so, as I need an ally in this trying time. Also, I hold out the hope that he can convince the party to return to Montaigne for a short while under some pretense so that I may find some excuse to beg off at that time and return home to my lovely Matti and my children. My medical books are there as well and hopefully age and experience can help me with my condition where inexperience and relative youth failed me with my poor cousin Armanda.

I could then give my son Jackie the responsibility and honor of serving our good master in as good a manner as I have. He has grown into a good man, and strong, and will serve Valliere better in these increasingly martial adventures than a servant well past his prime. I can see that it pains William to hold my secret and I regret putting him in such a position, but my honor and my duty to my master outweigh even these ties of close friendship.

I have heard it said, when I didn’t appear to be listening, that I have saved the lives of several of this fine group of gentlefolk on more than one occasion and that they feel I am near indispensable. If they truly believe that, then they are well and truly underestimating their abilities and putting too much faith and responsibility upon my shoulders. It is nigh time to ‘cut the apron strings’ as my dear mother would say and let them see that they can more than capably manage their affairs without being burdened with an old man to slow them down. My time and my youth have come and gone. The gauntlet of responsibility and adventure fits better upon the fist of youth.

I am weary now and will retire for bed. Morning will come early and we leave Insel by ship for Freiburg upon the sun’s awakening. Captain Andrews of the Queen’s Profit seems an understanding man, but I wouldn’t want to chance angering him by failing in my duty to awaken my master and his friends in a timely enough manner.

As always, I pray to the Prophets that my family is well and safe and that I have the honor of seeing them all soon. I also now add the prayer that I stave off this ailment long enough to do my duty properly. May Theus grant us safety and well being and allow us all to live our lives with honor, respect and dignity.

I, Laurent, put this to pen on the day, the *th of ****, 1668.