He told me he was a type of Latin called a Frank, and that he had sworn his life to the Knights Hospitaller, and within them, to the Order of St. Lazarus.I noticed he did not eat or drink anything, and that when the wind died away, he had a faint, unpleasant smell of rotten sweetness.“The Order of Saint Lazarus…” I began.“Indeed,” he said. “It is composed of lepers.”--Written by Alexander Saxton.Support The Wrong Station by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation.The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices