As he was wiping away the blood, the physician looked at the
monk.
“So where did this traveller come from again?”
“We believe he wandered in from the village before falling
into the new well.”
“I doubt he was from the village, he speaks something akin
to Britannic, I believe. Certainly his insistence on washing my hands was
clear, and his attempts to put my tools into hot water, obvious signs of insanity.
Demands for mouldy bread just prove it conclusively. Still, the leg is
amputated, it is in God’s hands now.”
While the aluminium was in the doctor’s bag.
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