Python

The journey so far has been quite good, I must say. I mean, people were surrounding us when we left, and still, after two hours, some are still following us. Most of them left us when we couldn't see Camelot, our beloved castle, anymore. I haven't spoken to the people yet, and they haven't tried to communicate with me either. In the beginning, I had recognised a few people that I knew, but now only strangers are left. They aren't really bothering us, but still I hope they will leave when we reach the sea.

I speed up my horse a bit to ride next to Michael. "You okay?" I ask. He had become a sort of friend, and I don't look up to him as if he was superior to me anymore. He nods, but I see something is wrong. "Sure? You look a bit pale." I say, a bit worried. He gags, and soon after that, he throws up. "Stop!" I shout to the others, who were in front of us. I jump off my horse, which I had named Ewic, and quickly walk to Michael to help him to the ground.

"Hang on, try not to vomit for ten seconds, Mike." I say, carefully stretching my arm to give him a hand. I really hope he's not going to throw up now, for I only have one more set of clothes. Luckily he doesn't, and when he finally plants his shaky feet on the ground he lets out a long, shivering sigh. "I didn't know you got sick of horses. You didn't when we rode to Camelot." Terry J observes to my surprise.

Michael coughs. "It's not... the horse. It's..." He looks up the the sky with almost the eyes of a crazy man, and then falls down. "Michael!" Terry G screams. The two foreign knights kneel down by their king. I look around to meet the gaze of Graham or Eric, but I don't. Then Eric comes racing to Michael from behind the horses. He's holding something in his hands. "Move, move! I have water!" He yells. "Where's Graham?" I ask, stepping aside. Eric nods to the donkey. "Getting some book about illnesses." He says. I walk to the donkey, and indeed, I see Graham reading in a thick book.

"Have you found it yet?" I ask. Graham mumbles something. I look at the page he's studying. "Why are you reading about air sickness?" I ask. Graham looks up. "He looked into the air before he collapsed. Hang on, I think I found it." He points at a small fragment on the very bottom of the page.

"Morbus Aeri Particulae, a sick feeling and unconsciousness when confronted with polluted air molecules in water." I read. I gasp. "But that means that..." Graham nods and turns around to look at the others, who are standing around Michael. "That means that we are doomed." He says in a deep voice.