He was adamant that the gods did not exist. He attributed “miracles” to natural events that couldn’t readily be explained. His teacher would always counter with, “If you don’t believe in the gods, why do you always pray to them when you are in trouble?” He always denied that he did, but deep inside he knew his tutor hit the sword on the shield.
Why indeed?
A noise on the road ahead of him drew his attention. A familiar wooden cart came rolling into view. The blind woman he had met previously was pushing it along the street. She slowed her pace as she neared him.
“Prince Aramis,” she greeted.
“Lady,” he returned. He couldn’t remember her name. As he thought about it, he couldn’t remember her ever giving him her name. “What are you doing out this late? Granted this town seems safe enough
