When Silvas woke back in his workshop, he wasn't surprised at his exhaustion. Since coming to Mecq, that had been the rule. The sense of weight remained, but it was different than it had been in the presence of his Unseen Lord. Silvas was prone, his face pressed against the marble floor. He breathed easily. This time he felt no apprehensions about the drained feeling. For several minutes he was content to keep his eyes closed and breathe as deeply as he could while energy returned to him.
This time the energy returned quickly. A trickle became a flood as power surged through him-a new sensation. I have changed, he realized, and then he opened his eyes.
The sensation of weight was immediately explained. Silvas was dressed in a full suit of plate armor. He had never worn armor of any sort before. His craft had always been his armor. This is like the plate the gods wore in their battle, he thought. It was as shiny as polished silver. When he got to his knees, he noted that there was even a sword at his waist, and he never wore a sword. It had been many years-decades-since he had even practiced with a long blade.
Standing, Silvas found that the armor no longer weighed so heavily on him. From the feel it might be no more than heavy wool-winter garments, but stiff. Silvas ran his hands over the breastplate. The metal was cold. "I have armed and armored you as best I can." Silvas recalled the words of his Unseen Lord and believed that the armor was as strong as a god could make it.
Memories of the Council and its sequel flooded Silvas's mind. There was so much there, knowledge that went far beyond any possible needs of this coming fight. There's no time to meander casually through the new corridors I see, Silvas thought with a certain amount of regret. In the most direct sense, knowledge was power to a wizard. The more knowledge he possessed, the greater his ability. And Silvas had just acquired a large fund of new knowledge. But there was too much to do. I need to check on the others. I need to look out to see how much of the demon force is already on the march. He needed to climb to the turret that looked out over Mecq, and he needed to look over the walls of the Seven Towers as well.
"I think that what we saw in Council was premonition, or the lies of the Blue Rose, but I must be sure," he whispered.
Quickly he spoke the spells to close down the defenses of the finished Council. There was finally time to notice that it was still night outside, though the darkness was waning, and that Satin and Velvet remained in their protective circles.
"Mecq first," Silvas said when he stepped out of the pentagram. "Come, kittens. We have real work to do now."
Even walking was no problem in the armor. The suit was complete, from helmet to cuisses. Only the hands, and the legs from the knees down, were left unprotected. Walking was no problem, but it wasn't silent. The pieces of armor moved against each other. The sword's scabbard rattled against the cuisse on Silvas's left thigh. On the metal stairs leading up to the turret that overlooked Mecq, the unaccustomed noise was quite distracting. Even the cats seemed bothered by it.
Mecq was quiet. Silvas looked toward the sky over the twin peaks. There was nothing that looked like the gathering storm he had seen in Council. Closer, below, the village was already astir for the new day. A few people were up and about. More would be soon. Silvas looked at St. Katrinka's and remembered that the bishop was due to say Mass at sunrise.
"That can't be far off," Silvas whispered. "I should make sure that the bishop has risen."
He stared at the rough cross on top of Mecq's church for several minutes, then turned away from the view of Mecq at last and headed down the stairs. He needed to check on all of the participants of his Council, but Bishop Egbert had to be first. Silvas knocked on the bishop's door, and Egbert called for him to enter. Two candles were burning. The bishop was up, still examining the suit of armor that had been draped over him.
"I woke with this on me," Egbert said.
"As did I," Silvas replied. "Our Unseen Lord told me, 'I have armed and armored you as best I can.' "
"There was even this." Bishop Egbert picked a mace off of the bed. "I have never wielded the weapons of war, but if I must…" He shook his head. "We are forbidden to shed the blood of men. Is it really so important that no blood is shed if we crush a skull or chest?" Though the iron ball of the mace was heavy, the bishop had no trouble waving it on its wooden handle.
"I know you have questions. I have plenty of my own," Silvas said. "But first I have to check on the others who were with us. It's almost dawn. There is no trace of the enemy over Mecq, but how long that will remain true, I cannot say."
Egbert nodded absently. "I will check on Brother Paul myself if you like."
"That will save time. I'll meet you there as soon as I can, and I'll make sure that your brothers here have a guide to St. Katrinka's when they are ready."
Egbert nodded and looked at his armor again. "It will be difficult to get even a surplice over this."
– |One by one Silvas visited the others, beginning with Carillia and ending with Bay. All were dressed in divine armor. The plate that the giant horse wore seemed almost monumental. It dazzled and shone in the faintest light. All three of Silvas's longtime councilors were unsteady, uncertain, when he first got to them. All spoke of having suffered from this Council as from none before. Carillia seemed especially somber, withdrawn in a moodiness that Silvas had never seen in her before. Bay had lost some of his normal assertiveness. He was quiet, even when he spoke.
"It seems we are indeed ready for the final battle," Bay said almost hesitantly, as if speaking the words might make them true.
"We will all have to go to St. Katrinka's," Silvas decided. "We may need to be together before this day is over, and we certainly need to continue the night's Council in the flesh this morning."
Bay simply nodded. Bosc said nothing, even though he had never left the Seven Towers to visit any of the villages and towns in which Silvas was working. Finally Silvas went back up to tell Carillia.
"I think you are right," she said. On occasion, when the tower of smoke was in a major town, Carillia had gone visiting with Silvas before, but never-obviously-in a situation like this. She moved against Silvas as gently as possible so their armor wouldn't rattle and clash, and put her hands on his shoulders. He put his arms around her, awkwardly with the armor.
"I fear this may be the last time we will ever be together like this, my heart," Carillia said. "A silly, womanly fear perhaps, but I cannot escape it."
Carillia spoke so softly that Silvas almost missed the import of what she had said. He blinked once, slowly, as her words penetrated. But his sense of urgency allowed him time for no more than a brief smile and a transient caress of her cheek.
The four of them walked out of the Glade into Mecq together. Crossing the green toward the church, Silvas and Carillia held hands. Bay was at his other side, and Bosc was beyond the giant horse. The wizard used his quarterstaff as a walking stick. Morning twilight had arrived. There was a chill to the air even though it was summer. The breeze was from the north, from Blethye. They didn't head for the main entrance to the church but to a side door, near the altar end of the nave. There the steps were narrow. Bay could get close enough to stick his head inside so he would be able to participate in the continuation of the night's Council.
Brother Paul hurried toward the door when Silvas and the others arrived. The look of apprehension on the friar's face was almost out of control. Paul was nervous, edgy, and even his voice was a register too high.
"Armor!" was the first word the vicar spoke. "A mace! I have no knowledge of such things. I cannot use this weapon."
"Then pray that you will not have to," Silvas said, looking beyond Brother Paul to the bishop. Egbert was following, not moving nearly as fast as the vicar.
"Pray that none of us will," Bishop Egbert said, putting his hands on the friar's shoulders. "But since they come from our Unseen Lord, we must be prepared to use what He has given us."
"Our Council was interrupted," Silvas said, hoping to hurry past the vicar's nervousness while the group still had time to talk in private. "Obviously the battle we saw, the storm of demons riding, all of that was not actually happening. It may have been prophecy. It may have been warning. I don't know."
"The battle is coming," Bay said. It was the first time he had ever spoken in the presence of outsiders-saving only the Council of the night just ending, and the effect of this was much stronger. It was enough to make the vicar stop trembling.
"That was not a dream," Brother Paul said, moving a step closer to Bay. "You really do speak."
"A talent that I trust will not be bruited about," Bay said. "It would shake the faith of many to hear a cleric talk of a horse that could speak."
Bishop Egbert chuckled. "Have no fear, Bay. Your secret will not escape us."
"The Council," Silvas said. The others turned their attention to him.
"I don't know what happened to the rest of you. Everything went black around me and I found myself alone. Then I saw our Unseen Lord face to face, more clearly than I see any of you at this moment. He laid His hands over my eyes and allowed knowledge to pour into me." There was no time to share one part in a thousand of that knowledge, and Silvas did not try. "If we fail in our task, if our Unseen Lord is defeated on this battlefield, Armageddon may indeed be upon us."
"I feel the armies gathering," Bay said. "The legions of the Blue Rose are coming. They will never surrender. They must be destroyed as quickly and as thoroughly as possible. There is no room for mercy, no chance of offering them any chance to recant. And they will offer us no alternative. They have come to destroy, not to convert." He stared directly at the vicar for a moment. "You, Brother Paul, must be prepared to use the weapon that the Unseen Lord has given you. There is no margin for any of us to fall short in our duty."
"Even if our Unseen Lord prevails, I tremble for this village and this valley," Bosc said. "The earth cries out in great agony. It waits to welcome the bones of many people before this day is out. It waits… for something more, for something of great pain." Bosc shook his head. "I still know not what it means. The earth's blood flows and mixes with the blood of men."
"We have little time," Silvas said. "The people of Mecq will be coming for Mass within minutes. I hear movement at hand. Your Excellency, Brother Paul, this next part is yours. The rest of us will be here with you."
Carillia put her hand on Silvas's arm. When he turned to her, she simply looked into his eyes for a moment. The wizard felt the frightening depths of sorrow in her gaze, but he still wasn't prepared for the words she finally spoke.
"My brother gods and I are come to the final battle of this world, or so we believe."