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“Why wouldn’t someone like that just be executed?”
Mother Agnes extends her cup to me for more tea, and I pour it. “Our Faith frowns upon punishing those who aren’t aware of the gravity of their crime.”
I snort. “You mean punishment is meaningless unless they knowwhythey’re suffering.” She continues holding her cup,and I add enough cream to match what Marguerite gave her earlier.
She ignores my hostility. “Families are often desperate for assurance it wasn’t their loved one who did such a terrible thing, but something possessing them.” Mother Agnes leans back in her chair and straightens her habit before taking a drink from her refreshed cup. “That’s often the easiest explanation for the masses, especially when what’s in here”—she taps her temple—“is so little understood by the wisest scholars. Three religious orders and hospitals are dedicated to helping pilgrims, but villagers take many into their own homes. Not violent ones, of course. Just those who can’t take care of themselves. Many physicians spend time in Mesanus observing and speaking with the most disturbed minds, trying to understand them and bring balance to their humors.”
Simon isn’t a physician, but it’s obvious he spent a lot of time around them. “So are the miracle cures due to their efforts or the blessings of this Dimah?” I ask.
Mother Agnes shrugs. “Your guess is as good as mine, but she wouldn’t have been added to the Litany of Holies without good reason.”
I’m more concerned with a vision of Simon’s life before coming to Collis. The question is, was he born and raised in Mesanus, or was he there for a cure of his own?
