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Neythen looked perplexed. ‘My mum always said I’m named after a saint, not an illness.”Which one?”Well he had his head chopped off, see? And then he picked it up and carried it down the road a time. All the way back home, I think.”Messy,’ Piers said. ‘Not to mention unlikely, though one has to think of chickens and their post-mortal abilities. Did she think that you would inherit the same gift?’Neythen blinked. ‘No, my lord.”Perhaps she was just hopeful. It behooves mothers to look ahead to this sort of possibility, after all. I’m tempted to behead you just to see if she was right.Sometimes the most unlikely superstitions turn out to have a basis in fact.
