Weird Meggin worked tirelessly among the sick, administering her willow bark to break the fever, dosing the

victims with

a bitter concoction the consistency of paste, which seemed to help those who could be persuaded to choke it down.

Many of Solace's residents derided the old crone, terming her "cracked" or a witch. These very same people were

among the first to ask for her the moment they felt the fever grip them. She never failed them. She would come at any

time, day or night, and though her manner was a little strange -she talked constantly to herself and insisted on the

unusual practice of washing her hands continually and forced others in the sickroom to do so as well-she was always

welcome.

Raistlin began by accompanying Weird Meggin on her rounds. He assisted her in sponging the feverish bodies,

helped persuade sick children to swallow the bad-tasting medicine. He learned how to ease the pain of the dying. But

as the plague spread and more and more of Solace's citizens were caught in its lethal grip, Raistlin was forced by

sheer necessity to tend patients on his own.

Caramon was among the first to catch the disease, a shock to the big man, who had never been sick in his life. He

was terrified, certain he was going to die, and nearly wrecked the bedroom in his delirium, fighting snakes carrying

torches, who were trying to set him on fire.

His strong body threw off the contagion, however, and since he had already survived the disease, he was able to

assist his brother in caring for others. Caramon worried constantly that Raistlin would catch the plague. Frail as he

was, he would not survive it. Raistlin was deaf to his brother's pleas to remain safely at home. Raistlin had

discovered to his surprise that he gained a deep and abiding satisfaction in helping those stricken with the illness.

He did not work among the sick out of compassion. In general, he cared nothing for his neighbors, considered

them dull and boorish. He did not treat the sick for monetary gain; he would go to the poor as readily as the rich. He

found that what he truly enjoyed was power-power he wielded over the living, who had come to regard the young

mage with hope bordering on reverence. Power he was sometimes able to wield over his greatest, most dread foe,

Death.

He did not catch the plague, and he wondered why. Weird Meggin said it was because he made certain to wash his

hands after tending to the sick. Raistlin smiled derisively, but he was too fond of the crazy old woman to contradict

her.

At length, Plague slowly opened his clenched skeletal fingers,

released Solace from his deadly grip. Solace's residents, acting under Weird Meggin's instructions, burned the clothes

and bedding of those who had been ill. The snow came at last, and when it did, it fell on many new graves in Solace's

burial ground.

Among the dead was Anna Brightblade.

It is written in the Measure that the duty of the lady wife of a knight is to feed the poor and tend to the sick of the

manor. Though she was far from the land where the Measure was written and obeyed, Lady Brightblade was faithful

to the law. She went to the aid of her sick neighbors, caught the disease herself. Even when she felt its first effects,

she continued to nurse until she collapsed.

Sturm carried his mother home and ran to fetch Raistlin, who treated the woman as best he could, all to no avail.

"I'm dying, aren't I, young man?" Anna Brightblade asked Raistlin one night. "Tell me the truth. I am the wife of a

noble knight. I can bear it."

"Yes," said Raistlin, who could hear the popping and crackling sounds of fluid gathering in the woman's lungs.

"Yes, you are dying."

"How long?" she asked calmly.

"Not long now."

Sturm knelt at his mother's bedside. He gave a sob and lowered his head to the blanket. Anna reached out her

hand, a hand wasted from the fever, and stroked her son's long hair.

"Leave us," she said to Raistlin with her customary imperiousness. Then, looking up at him, she smiled wanly, her

stern expression softened. "Thank you for all you have done. I may have misjudged you, young man. I give you my

blessing."

"Thank you, Lady Brightblade," Raistlin said. "I honor your courage, madam. May Paladine receive you."

She looked at him darkly, frowned, thinking he blasphemed, and turned her face from him.