They’re too free for their innocence or too innocent for their freedom. “I wonder,” he said, and went off at a tangent. If the Wastrel had not turned the instant he did, the ball would have missed him; as it was he turned directly into its path. Melusine gave herself a little mental shake. The idiots are marching through the streets in processions from town to town, whipping their own backs until they are covered in blood, spreading the bloody Pestilence wherever they go! The dead pile in the streets like timber.
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