Silas nodded. He had been expecting the question, after all. How could she not question it, when she saw it. He expected the same curiosity, about his back.
"I wear it for The Lord," he answered. He had no shame, about it. "It helps me to remember He is my shepherd. It reminds me not to indulge in the wickness of my thoughts."
He paused, giving her a moment to take in what he said. "The same, for my back. I use a cat o' nine tails the Bishop gave to me. I use it on my back, when I entertain impure thoughts." His eyes drifted to the home made whip, a bundle of ropes, knotted at the ends, that lay on a table nearby.