Cesare appreciated the straightforward manner of her answers. They were simple, sure, but to the point. There was no time for hedging, dodging or untruths when it came to life and death. Of course that didn't mean she couldn't be lying to him. He was in no fit state to determine one way or another, so he merely nodded his acceptance. She was strange. Her accent was unfamiliar, distant, and her manner of dress far out of the styles of the whole of Italy and even the French. Nevermind her vocation.
Nurse Crawley. Sybil. Cesare watched her in silence and drank more of the tainted water. It wasn't the worst thing he'd ever consumed, but the water itself had a tang to it that was altogether different to that of the water from the aqueducts of Rome. But a modern town they'd said.
"How do you fight a thing unseen?" The body could heal itself, if infection didn't take over. But she said the infection was inside him already. It left no visible markers except for his fever.. but accompanied the aches and pains and the cough. But another thought occurred to him, and Cesare looked at the not-witch nurse in sudden alarm. "The boy," he spit out, "is he dying? Or dead. The sickness will spread." And cause the same havoc as the plague?
"You risk yourself coming here--you know it, but for what commission?"