“And?”
“He recovered.”
Lord Wulfram smiled. “That was merely a coincidence.”
“Was it? Somehow I have my doubts. You weren’t there. You didn’t feel the sudden breeze, the scent of grass that so reminded me of home.”
“And you attribute that to a dead Saint?”
“It reminded me of the prior, back home. You can’t believe that a coincidence?”
“You were camped in a field, were you not?”
“We were," admitted Ludwig. "What of it?”
“Well, you were surrounded by grass. What else would you smell? You were lucky enough to catch a breeze, that’s all. The rest is due to your imagination.”
“They say the Saints work in mysterious ways,” countered Ludwig.
“Of course they do. How else can they peddle their beliefs?”
“You don’t believe in the Saints?”
“Don’t let me give you the wrong impression,” sai
