INTERPRETATIONS
“The parishioners from Saint-Laurent are idiots,” Guilhem-the-blacksmith said, largely to fill in time. He was having a quiet afternoon and the priest was bored to tears and gossip was a useful diversion.
“I thought you went to Saint-Laurent yourself? I see you there, all the time. In fact, I was entirely certain that you were one of my parishioners.”
Guilhem busied his hands for a moment, making sure that he didn’t catch Peire’s eyes. When his hands were more fully occupied with his work he said, “Oh, yes, but I don’t take sides. There are a few of us who remain even-handed.”
“Because horses from both parishes still need shoeing? Because pots need mending and tines need sharpening?”
“Precisely.”
“So what have your non-parishioners done?”
“They won’t stop talking. Th
