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Vol.7, Ch.3, P.7

There it is. Not philosophy. Not theology. Not an idea, nor an intuition, but a simple speaking of the truth. So was this saint asserting; that his is a “sermon” to be heeded as History itself.

“…Say what you will,” I argued, “men may yet live unyoked from any god.”

The cartaphilus slowly shook his head. “Nay,” he said, “nay, they may not.” And with his hands splayed yet wide, he strutted some more steps hither. His sabatons echoed coldly across the stonen hollow. “Save for you, Rolf the Godless,” he said on. “You are the sole exception.” And just like that, he halted; and his smile once so sure now vanished, leaving behind a flat and dead-serious face as he resumed: “He whose heart yearns even the slightest for God shall be swayed by