Philippa led her gelding, Alogon, off the bronze plate. He whickered and shook his head, tossing his black mane. She did not blame him for feeling uneasy when that giant snake lurked above, slithering between the ivory towers. It eyed him, flicking its tongue at the air and by the way Alogon nervously pranced, he surely felt the serpent’s gaze. Ezekiel’s pet was hungry, but Alogon was under her protection. Holy-knights were not supposed to take their mounts through the Messiah’s plate. She had been berated for it before, but who would stop her now, who could possibly berate her? The cardinals were under her control. There was one exception; Roland of Iscariot who was missing, but soon he would follow his peers into Hell. As soon as Goland received the word she would strike. Philippa had no doubt of her loyalty. Any crumb of resistance was falling quickly.

  More of her brethren travelled through the plate, filling the room. The afternoon sun cast orange glances over the top floor of the Capitol. It reflected off the marble floor, filtering through the tall ivory pillars that stretched to and supported the copper dome. A grassy slope stretched out to meet the wooden fingers that were the docks. Beyond was the deep blue from the lake of calamity, but from here it looked calm. A faint, salty smell drifted through the room.

  Someone sighed deeply behind her. Philippa turned, her golden armour feeling heavy on her skin and her undergarments drenched in sweat. Mina stood there with wet hair that clung to her forehead and a smile. ‘You were amazing back there,’ she said. Like most knights from the honour school, Mina wore little armour. She had a silver chestplate and underneath were flowing blue robes that her dark hair tumbled over.

  ‘It was a great victory,’ Philippa agreed. ‘However, the thanks go to the agents who sacrificed months undercover to open the gates. If it weren’t for them, the siege on Decapolis could have taken several weeks.’

  ‘Don’t be modest,’ she said with a smirk. A cheer lit up the floor as more members returned from the battle, probably Gerrard based off the extreme reaction. ‘I am looking forward to the celebrations tonight. Will you be there?’

  ‘I’m not sure, I need to make contact with Reginald in Hiera.’

  ‘Reginald will be fine,’ Mina protested. She reached out a hand, but then stopped short, looking saddened by her own restraint. ‘Take some time for yourself. At the least, how about a bath?’

  Mina smiled at Philippa and she could feel herself softening. ‘Perhaps a quick soak would clear my mind.’

  ‘I will have it prepared at your-’

  A great, painful screaming lit up the hall followed by more cheering. Gatkouth, the archbishop of Peter was dragged off the Messiah’s plate, a knight on either arm as his legs trailed behind. He wore long black robes with a white undershirt and howled like a wolf.

  ‘THIS IS TREASON,’ he screamed, but no one paid him any sympathy.

  Taking him prisoner was Philippa's decision. He may become a good bargaining chip, he may be able to reveal secret vaults if tortured or he may turn out to be worthless. Currently, he was boosting the troop’s morale as they watched him be taken away in chains, humiliated. No matter the result, seeing him here filled Philippa’s heart with joy. Justice is being fulfilled.

  Suddenly the giant snake above hissed. Philippa watched as it scurried away from her and Alogon, who it had been staring at. Quicker than a hawk it disappeared above the copper dome. It was running from a threat and Philippa could sense the danger too. Furious waves of noctra bettered her. Marshal stomped forward, his lifespan in a storm around him. The room hushed, even the holy-knights grimaced and Gatkouth ceased his cries. Marshal’s red hair was the focus of every eye in the room. Iron rings in his beard as it swayed with his step. Philippa knew he would never attack her. She knew that even if he did, she would defeat him. Yet seeing the thunder roll towards her, she could not help but drop a hand to her sword.

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  He knelt before her, ignoring everyone else in the room. ‘I request your guidance.’

  Something has gone terribly wrong.

  There would be no bathing, sleeping or rest for Philippa that night.

  * * * *

  They moved downstairs and into a more private room. It was a small blank thing with unwashed white walls, a single wooden table and two chairs. Neither of them sat. Philippa stood still, she was too tired to move whereas Marshal was the opposite. He anxiously stomped back and forth.

  ‘Your pacing will not make the sun move any faster,’ Philippa said.

  ‘I know,’ he barked, then added, ‘Ma’am. I just can’t sit still with her waiting for me. I tried to reach you sooner by bird.’

  ‘I received nothing.’

  He grunted.

  ‘The sun has set on Kerioth and the doorway has closed,’ she said. ‘Even when it opens in the morning, I am hesitant to send anyone through.’

  ‘What? We have to act as quickly as possible.’

  ‘Now that Decapolis and Samaria have been taken, all remaining cities will be on high alert. I doubt archbishop Suraj would let us waltz right into Kerioth and take it. It will have to be a siege which will take time.’

  ‘No,’ Marshal said and Philippa was tempted to remind him who he answered to. ‘I told Beth I would return. I can’t just leave her there for what, months?’

  ‘Your squire aside, can we truly believe Suraj?’

  ‘On this matter at least, I believe we can. Whilst I was waiting for your response, I contacted Marivold and he was able to endorse the claim that Saleos wants the boy dead. He said the connection between the two was… negative and he theorized that Alek Howell could be some kind of tool the demons need as Suraj claimed.’

  She sighed. ‘If the Wizard King says so, then for now I don’t see the problem with imprisoning him. He won’t be able to cause any harm that way.’

  ‘I also wrote to Taehwa and a cell in Carandiru has been prepared.’

  She was trying to listen to Marshal, but she was so tired and she still couldn’t understand how he had placed his faith in some runt girl who was not even a knight. Leaving her alone to guard the boy was pure foolishness.

  ‘I still cannot endorse sending troops directly through the plate. It is too risky.’

  ‘I will go first.’

  ‘Are you that eager to get back to die?’

  ‘I am eager to crush a threat to Purgatory.’

  They locked eyes and Marshal had that stubborn look on his face.

  ‘Fine. I will prepare a battalion to follow you as soon as the sun rises in Iscariot and the plate is functioning again.’

  ‘Thank you commander.’

  ‘They won't be happy having their celebrations cut short, but the war must go on. Tomorrow, as soon as the sun rises, Kerioth will fall.’