"Something?" The Priest realized what Kup was looking at and removed the Holy Emblem hanging from his chest.
It was a wooden Holy Emblem, coated with a varnish made from Turpentine and Mineral Paint. Up close, it still smelled sharply fresh and cool. He clearly hadn't been wearing it long.
"You mean this? Impossible. I only started using it a few days ago."
"What about the old one?" Kup pressed.
"It cracked, so I took it to the Blacksmith Shop. The smith said it would be hard to repair and might have to be melted down and recast, but he hadn't finished before he fell ill." The Priest still didn't quite believe the Holy Emblem was to blame, but his voice had grown less certain.
"It's true that all three of them touched it. I used it to drive out evil spirits from Brother Dominic, and I used it when I prayed over the Basket Weaver's son as I bandaged his injured leg. But that doesn't make sense.
"My teacher passed it down to me. It's been fine for over twenty years. Why would it cause trouble now?"
The Holy Emblem had been used by two generations. Given a little more time, it would practically have become a treasured heirloom and symbol of the Church. Even if it hadn't been blessed by the Heavenly Father, it still shouldn't have become a means of spreading disease, should it?
"Over twenty years ago?" Benny cut in. The timing was far too sensitive; it coincided exactly with the torrential rain that had buried the neighboring village in his memories. "Did the old Priest ever say where it came from?"
"That came from a Monastery caravan passing through, too. They traded us a whole set of silverware for food. This was one of the