The shock that Silvas felt prevented any open reaction to Carillia's words. He did not doubt what she said, and he certainly could not miss the clear meaning. She was one of the twenty-sister to the Unseen Lord and the others. Silvas bit at his lower lip. He felt pain as well as wonder. You have concealed so much from me for so long?
Silvas and Carillia stared at each other for an instant that seemed all out of proportion to its duration. For that moment they might have been alone in the universe, but no words came to either's lips. There was no time for full discussion, and anything less was better left unsaid. For the moment. The others had no chance at all to show any reaction to Carillia's announcement. The first villagers were coming into the church. There was a little light showing outside. The sun had not quite topped the horizon, but it was near. The peasants knelt and crossed themselves, then moved forward into St. Katrinka's. There were no pews. Worshippers stood or knelt as the service required. They did not sit.
Master Ian was one of the first to arrive. Brother Paul hurried to greet him. "May I beg a favor?" he asked.
"Of course, Vicar," Master Ian replied.
"Would you send your lads around the village to make sure that everyone comes to Mass? Just have the lads tell any folks who aren't already on their way that it's most urgent. Most urgent," Brother Paul repeated.
"Aye, Vicar, I'll do it." The innkeeper turned and left.
At the far end of the church, Bishop Egbert whispered, "It is time for my brothers to join me." He closed his eyes and raised his hands to his temples for a short incantation.
"It might be best if we could get word for the folks up in the castle to stay where they are," Silvas said when the bishop opened his eyes again. "We may have little enough time later."
"I'll have one of my brothers go up there to tell them to wait, that I will be up as soon as possible to help them and give absolution and blessing before the battle," Egbert said. He started to close his eyes again.
"A moment," Silvas said. "Have him go to the mews for a horse. The grooms will have one waiting. And I will be going to the castle with you, with all my companions. Sir Eustace's castle would seem to be the focal point of the coming fight."
"I'll tell them that we are coming," the bishop said, and both men spoke their silent spells.
Carillia had turned away from them. She took a step toward the altar and stared at the large wooden crucifix that hung there, and at the crudely painted scenes of Golgotha that surrounded it. So softly that no one else could hear, she whispered, "How little of this I have ever really understood." There were tears at the corners of her eyes. After a moment she turned just enough to let her look at Silvas again. He was busy with his chants, facing away from her.
"This moment had to come, my heart," she whispered, so softly that no one could possibly hear. "Whatever happens today, what we had before is lost. My escape is over." She turned back to the altar.
Her tears came again.
– |"Father, may I have a word?"
Brother Paul had remained near the front entrance to greet his parishioners as they entered. Busying himself with the amenities was less troubling than standing apart and thinking over Carillia's revelation. The vicar was disturbed both by what she had said and by the speed with which he had accepted her words as Truth.
"Certainly, my son," the vicar said. "Come, let's move over to the side." He led the villager off to the corner. "What troubles you?" As if there weren't enough to trouble any righteous soul, he added to himself.
"I saw somethin' in the night." The farmer looked down, turning his head first to one side and then the other, hesitant about meeting the vicar's gaze. "I cain't be shore what it were, Father."
"A dream?" Brother Paul prompted.
"No, it warn't no dream. I woke in the night, like-heard somethin', I did. After that storm t'other night, I don' sleep so good."
"What did you see?" Brother Paul asked, anxious to hurry him along.
"Dunno. I thinks I saw the Virgin Mary like, standin' in the doorway, hands stretched out like in blessing. It were very plain, Father. I saw her clear as anythin'." He shook his head. "I were frighted, e'en after she told me not to be."
"Go on. What did she look like?" A miracle, here in my parish? he wondered. Or just a troubled soul taking a bit of comfort in a dream? With all that had happened, and seemed about to happen, Brother Paul knew that he shouldn't be surprised at anything, even this.
"She looked young, she did, and most beauteous, draped all in a flowin' robe. Her hair was long, stretchin' all the way down to here." He touched a point low on his back to illustrate. "There was light all around her. The hair, it were brown with bits of red showin' in the light. Her eyes was a green sech as yer've ne'er seen. I cain't describe it. I don't have the words." He was quiet for a few seconds, his head hanging down. Finally he looked up. "While she were there, she put my soul at ease, she did. I felt blessed. But afore I could say anythin', she disappeared, she did, and then, in the dark, I felt troubled."
"Did she say anything else, do anything?" Brother Paul asked. He forced himself to hold his attention on the man in front of him, though a demanding itch made him want to turn and look toward the altar.
"No, Father, not that I recollect." The man shook his head. "Were it really her?"
Brother Paul had to hesitate before he answered. "I can't know that, my son. Such questions are for more learned souls than mine. I'll tell the bishop after Mass. I think…" He stopped and shook his head. "No, I shouldn't say even that. Just hold to that vision in your heart, my son. It may have been real. If her presence shows in your life, you may have been specially blessed."
The man crossed himself, bowed his head several times, then moved away, looking for a spot near the wall, away from the center of the growing crowd.
Brother Paul turned to look toward the altar-and Carillia. Her long auburn hair was hidden, braided and piled up under the helmet she wore now. But the friar had seen it before. And he had seen her brilliant green eyes. He stared at her back for a moment, then let his eyes look to her companions. Silvas, Bay, and Bosc all seemed lost in their magics, whatever they were. Even the bishop had his eyes closed and was standing in a posture of incantation.
"I am being lax in my duties," the vicar mumbled. He spoke a short prayer while he crossed himself, then moved into the few magics of protection he could muster, simple spells for his church and parishioners. He had just finished when he felt a hand touch his arm.
"Vicar, I needs yer a moment."
Brother Paul opened his eyes. The woman was Enid, the miller's wife. She was terrified. It showed on her face, in her eyes. "What is it, my child?" he asked.
"I think I saw Mother Mary comin' fer me in the night, Vicar. She stood by my bed and held her arms out."
"Not coming for you, surely," Brother Paul said. "Perhaps you mistook what you saw. The mother of our Lord doesn't come to take people."
"Really?"
"Really," Brother Paul said. "Tell me, what did she look like?"
He managed to keep any expression off his face when her description matched the first he had heard. When Enid finished, Brother Paul blessed her and sent her back to her husband.
"I need the counsel of my bishop on this," Brother Paul mumbled. He started to move toward the altar and Bishop Egbert. But yet another villager took him aside before he got there… with a similar tale.
– |St. Katrinka's scarcely had room for all the people of Mecq, and more people were present than usual-Silvas and his companions, and the churchmen from St. Ives. The monks had arrived as Brother Paul was talking to Enid, the miller's wife. They had come in led by the two gigantic cats Brother Paul had seen in the Glade. The cats went along the side of the church to Silvas.
Carillia remained with her back to the congregation. No one had yet had any opportunity to remark on her… resemblance to the vision that had come to some of them in the night. Silvas was obviously deep in his magic. That, especially inside the church, was enough to worry many of the villagers. Bosc and Bay worried them even more. The little fellow was so strange; he looked as if he might call both a human and a hog parents. And the giant horse, he appeared to be chanting as rapidly as the wizard or the short pig-like creature, though no one could hear any words from the horse. With all the strangeness present, Satin and Velvet were easier to accept, though their size was frightening.
Brother Paul went to the pulpit and started the Invocation. He blessed the congregation and spoke to them.
"Great danger is at hand, my children. You are all to stay inside the church until the coming fight is over. His Excellency the Bishop of St. Ives and the Lord Wizard Silvas have cast what protections they are able to command around St. Katrinka's to shield you from as much of the outside evil as possible." And to strengthen you against any follower of the Blue Rose who may have come into our midst, may God forgive me for suspicions, he added to himself.
"As you value your souls, do not leave until one of us tells you it is safe. We go to war, perhaps to Armageddon!" He thumped a fist against the armor that covered his chest. The gesture hurt his hand, but the ringing sound his armor made seemed an effective addition.
None of the greater powers in the church contradicted the vicar. Brother Paul glanced at them, almost wishing that one of them had.
– |Bishop Egbert hurried through the Mass as he rarely had in his life. Even so, the feeling of power was more intense than usual. The bishop noticed the difference early. At first he was willing to lay that entirely to the nearness of the struggle. He was no stranger to the anticipation that could make the heart pump faster, that could bring such a sharply defined awareness of everything. It wasn't until the elevation of the Host that he knew that this was more. It felt almost as if lightning were surging down into him through his upraised hands. His arms trembled for an instant, but he didn't drop the Host. And he completed the Mass without omission, though he raced through the remaining words even more rapidly. When he reached the closing benediction, he spoke the words of protection with more fervor than he had ever known. Then he reminded the people of Mecq that they were not to leave the sanctuary until they were told that it was safe.
"We go to meet the threat where it will be greatest," the bishop said. "We will be on the mountain overlooking your river and the pass from Blethye. Brother Paul, and the wizard and his companions, will be there with me. I leave you six of my brothers from the cathedral to see to your safety here. You are in good hands. God willing, we shall all emerge from this alive with our faith strengthened." He drew the sign of the cross over them again and then went to the side of the church where Silvas and the others waited.
"We have little time to spare," Silvas told him. "I feel the danger approaching."
"Then let us hurry." With the efficiency of a military commander, the bishop divided his monks into two groups. One of the brothers was already at the castle of Mecq. Five more would accompany the bishop now. The other six would remain. Those six moved to carefully chosen places within the church. One went to the altar. Two went to the far corners. Two more stationed themselves along the side walls, and the sixth found his place in the center, forming the points and focus of a pentagram.
Silvas and the bishop led the way out of the church by the side door to avoid the crowd. At the front of the church, nine saddled horses waited.
"The grooms said to bring this many," one of the monks said.
"I passed those orders to them," Silvas said. "We will ride to Sir Eustace's castle."
Silvas helped Carillia mount. Their eyes met, locked, for an instant, but neither spoke. Bosc got on his horse without help, though the stirrup was nearly at the level of his chin. Of the churchmen, Brother Paul was the only one who had difficulty mounting. "I can't recall the last time I rode a horse," he explained.
As soon as the vicar was mounted, Bay took off through the village. He didn't gallop, but the other horses, so much smaller than him, were forced into a canter from the start, just to keep from falling behind.
Carillia kept her horse even with Bay. As they left the village, she asked Silvas, "How will you begin?"
Silvas looked at her, surprised-as much by the fact that she had spoken as by what she had said. "Is that a question for you to ask me, or for me to ask you?" The words were difficult, ignoring the deeper questions he longed to ask but could not yet put into words.
"It is for me to ask you, my heart," she said.
"There seems only one way," Silvas said. "I'll tell you when we get to the top."
Bay had already reached the path leading up the side of Mount Mecq, and there was no room for Carillia's horse beside the larger animal. The horses all fell into line behind Bay. On the climb the line stretched out as the more timid riders held back their mounts. Brother Paul had slid to the rear before they reached the hill, and he fell farther behind at every switchback along the climb. Only the two cats seemed unconcerned by the narrow path up the side of Mount Mecq. Satin and Velvet stayed close behind Silvas throughout the climb. At the top of the road, the gate to the castle was open, but the walls held every soldier that Sir Eustace possessed and much of the rest of the adult population of the castle, hurriedly armed against whatever might come. Henry Fitz-Matthew stood on the parapet above the gate. Only Sir Eustace and his family were not in sight.
"Close the gate!" Fitz-Matthew shouted as soon as Brother Paul made it through.
"No!" Silvas shouted back. "We will have to start our fight outside, on the ledge above the Eyler."
"I have my orders," Fitz-Matthew said.
"Damn your orders, man," Silvas shouted. "We begin our fight on the ledge above the river. Do you value your soul so little?"
That frightened the steward almost beyond reason. His eyes opened wider, and they had been wide enough with fear before. He looked to Brother Paul and then to the bishop.
"Do as he says," Brother Paul said, almost out of breath from the ride. "Sir Eustace will not fault you for it. You have my word."
"And mine!" Bishop Egbert thundered.
Fitz-Matthew nodded an unhappy acceptance.
Silvas and Carillia dismounted and walked back out through the gate together. Bay trailed along behind them. Bosc busied himself gathering the rest of the horses that had come from the mews of the Seven Towers and took them off within the courtyard to tie them to a railing by a water trough.
Silvas went right to the edge that overlooked the Eyler and the narrow pass between the two hills.
"How will you start?" Carillia asked again. She moved to Silvas's side and linked her right arm with his left. He did not withdraw from the contact.
"By damming the Eyler to give Mecq its water," he said. "That is the gage I must throw down. It seems obvious now-Mecq and its water. Those are the keys." He still wasn't sure why they were the keys, or why Mecq and not any other place in Christendom, but they were somehow the inescapable link. The only explanation that made any sense to him was that his wanderings had finally brought him too near the center of the Blue Rose's power for them to ignore the threat he represented.
"Have you chosen your method?" Carillia asked.
"There's no time for finesse. It will have to be brute force, power I could not command before our Unseen Lord laid his hands across my eyes." He turned to face her. "And still I do not know if my power alone will suffice. I may well need whatever help you and the others can give me." He stared into her eyes, looking for anything he might have missed seeing in the generations of men that they had been together.
"You know me heart and soul, my heart," Carillia said softly. "We are not so different as you believe."
"Even a wizard must believe in something outside himself," Silvas said. "My love, sometimes I know not what to believe anymore." Then he had to take his eyes from hers even though so much remained unsaid. He turned toward the gate.
Sir Eustace had come out of his keep. He started shouting as soon as he emerged, demanding to know why the gate was still open. Bishop Egbert replied. The bishop spoke softly, but his words carried as he took the knight to task for his manners.
"At such a time as this, have a care for your soul," Egbert said. "Let not your anger continue to fester, not even against the Foe and his forces that will come against you." The words held such power that Silvas could feel Sir Eustace's people trembling with fear for their master. And Sir Eustace needed quite some time before he found his voice again. When he spoke this time, his tone was more humble.
"I beg forgiveness, Your Excellency. I stand here ready to do what I may to defend my land, my people, and our Mother the Church. Our resources are scanty, but we are at your disposal." Sir Eustace glanced at Silvas and Carillia, who were just coming back through the gate. "We are here to follow your orders, or even those of the wizard if that is your desire." The last came out haltingly, but with no trace of his earlier, habitual anger.
"It is my desire," Bishop Egbert said. "The Lord Wizard Silvas is much stronger in the magic we need to defend the White Brotherhood than I. You will follow his orders as I will myself."
Silvas made no move to take over the talk. There would be time enough for that. He saw no sense in pressing Sir Eustace's resolve so soon. Once the threat was visible, the knight would be less likely to rebel. Silvas was more interested at the moment in looking at the newest spectators. Sir Eustace's wife and daughter were standing at the door of the keep, cloaks wrapped about them against the morning chill. Eleanora's eyes held nothing but terror as she listened to the bishop. There was something else in Maria's eyes, something wild-not fear but determination or something akin to it. Silvas couldn't quite make out what it was, but she held his attention. Power? Excitement? Silvas shook his head gently. Whatever the difference, Maria seemed somehow more than she had before. She stared at him for a moment, then turned and ran back into the keep. Eleanora was not far behind her.
Bishop Egbert finished with Sir Eustace and came over to Silvas. The knight followed dutifully, his usual scowl replaced by a look of apprehension.
"We are yours to command," the bishop said.
Silvas nodded. "It's time to begin. We'll start out on the flat overlooking the Eyler." After the bishop nodded, Silvas looked to Sir Eustace, who also nodded-if not meekly, then at least without any look of defiance. "Sir Eustace, for you and your men, the task is that which you have already sworn, to defend Mecq and your people. Your place is on the walls of your castle. The work outside will belong to those of us with other talents." Sir Eustace nodded again, this time with more vigor, and when Silvas led the others out through the gate, he climbed to the wall.
"Don't stand too close to the precipice," Silvas warned those who moved out with him-his companions and the churchmen.
"You must intend to begin the fray, since the enemy's storm has not yet appeared," Bishop Egbert said.
Silvas smiled. "One might look at it that way. Or one might say that we merely pick up the gauntlet the Blue Rose cast before the White Brotherhood here a long time since."
Bishop Egbert looked around, then down. "The river?"
"The river," Silvas agreed. He turned a little. "Brother, not so close to the edge," he called to a monk who was within perhaps five feet of it. The monk took another step back.
"Have your brothers stand along the castle wall while I begin," Silvas told the bishop. "Save for Brother Paul. We will include him in our offensive since this is his parish."
The bishop went to speak to his monks while Silvas started to work. The wizard looked around the ledge for a few moments while he started his preliminary chants. The flat area outside the castle was about forty yards long but rarely as much as twenty-five yards wide, from wall to precipice, and on the side of the hill that directly faced Blethye, the castle extended almost to the edge. Silvas switched into a faster chant and used the silver ferrule of his quarterstaff to scribe a large pentagram in the rock. He moved quickly but confidently, drawing lines that were perfectly straight, with angles that were precise. He used all of the room available across the narrow width of the ledge. The segments of this pentagram needed to be as large as possible to serve the purpose he had in mind. Silvas started with the five outer sides, then drew in the inner lines.
When he finished, he stood near one of the points and looked from that to Bay and back. "Bay, is there enough room for you within the point of one of these arrows?"
The horse came closer, staying outside the pentagram while he looked. "Barely," he said after a moment. "I will have to remain perfectly still, and I will have little room to even turn my head from side to side."
"But is it enough, my friend? If I started again, I could hardly squeeze out more than a few extra inches."
Bay looked directly at him and nodded. "It will do."
"Bishop Egbert, I don't know how much use you make of pentagrams, but I find them to be powerful tools. For most applications I would stand alone in the center and erect my shields. This magic will require more. The pentagram will have to be fully populated by individuals of power, one in each point of the star, one more at the center."
Bishop Egbert nodded to show that he followed the wizard's reasoning. "The pentagram is not our most common tool, even within the Greater Mysteries, but it is far from unknown. Place us as you will."
"Bosc and the vicar will have the points nearest the castle wall. I will be in the point overlooking the Eyler. Bay will be to my left, and I would like to have you at my right. Carillia will be in the center."
Silvas turned to look at her. He would certainly have taken his usual place at the center of the pentagram if not for Carillia's admission of divinity. The center was the most important post. It was customary to place the greatest power there. Carillia met Silvas's gaze without outward emotion. After a moment she nodded, accepting his disposition.
"Be careful not to touch any of the lines," Silvas said as the others moved to their assigned positions. "And once in place, don't cross any of the lines or intersections until you are certain that it is safe." He took a step toward Brother Paul. "If you have any doubt, if your power does not yet run so far, any of the rest of us will be able to tell you when it's safe." Brother Paul nodded. His face had paled, but he didn't hesitate to take his position.
Silvas waited until the others were within their assigned segments. He took a moment to survey Bay's position. "You have a little room around you, old friend," he said.
"I am aware," Bay replied without moving even his head. Silvas nodded and moved to his own position.
"It is time," he announced in a loud voice. The six monks from the cathedral chapter were along the outside of the castle wall. Satin and Velvet took up positions flanking the gate, keeping their distance from both the pentagram and the line of monks. Most of Sir Eustace's people were on the ramparts above the ledge.
It is time, Silvas repeated to himself. He turned around within his position to look at the others inside the pentagram.
"Not much is required of you for this part," he said. "Brother Paul, I know you have no experience at this sort of thing. All that is needed now is for you and the others around the points, to clear your minds and project whatever power you command toward Carillia in the center. She will focus that on me, and I will perform the active part."
When each of the others had nodded their understanding, Silvas turned again to face his point and look out over the Eyler. He took a wide, steady stance and started to chant.
It was not a simple magic. Silvas had to draw together many different spells and merge them into a seamless new construction. He started to chant up elementary defenses around the pentagram, waiting to feel the inrush of additional energy from Carillia and the others. Even before that came, Silvas knew that he himself already possessed more power than ever before. The inescapable result of the knowledge I was given, he reminded himself. Even with all this help, I might not have been able to perform this magic yesterday. He would still have found some way to produce the end result he sought-sufficient, reliable water for Mecq-but the production would have been more protracted, more difficult.
He eyed the near end of Mount Balq, across the river. He focused his telesight and scanned the rock, searching for fissures, making estimates of the power that would have to be applied and just where. Finally the surge of power he was waiting for came. Silvas switched immediately into more intense levels of conjuring, challenging what had always been the upper limit of his power, knowing that he had to go far beyond that old range to manipulate the substances of Earth and Sky.
Silvas raised his arms, his quarterstaff held horizontal in both hands. Then he brought the staff down to eye level so that he was looking over it at the crest of Mount Balq. The sky started to turn a slightly darker shade of blue. A few thin clouds coalesced and began to churn and curl far overhead. Faint white clouds against the blue. Then Silvas spoke the first words of power.
A bolt of brilliant blue-white lightning came out of clear sky and struck the end of Mount Balq, its accompanying thunder deafening. A trace of smoke remained after the lightning faded. Silvas repeated the first words of power, then added more, chanting the sequence over and over.
The lightning came in force now, blue and purple, occasionally a greenish yellow, most rarely white. The bolts came singly at first, separated by perhaps a second. But the intervals quickly decreased until the ridge across the Eyler wore the lightning like a crown of thorns. The thunder became a solid wall of noise, too loud and close, too constant. The people on Mount Mecq no longer truly heard the thunder, they felt it in their heads and hearts, in their souls. Tongues of fire danced on the rock of Mount Balq, only sporadically visible in the greater brilliance of the lightning. Explosions started to make themselves heard over the thunder. Even the ledge on Mount Mecq started to tremble from the force of the assault on the opposite hill.
Dust rose from the top of Mount Balq. Small chunks of rock, then larger boulders, finally immense sections of the hill began to tumble and slide from the top to the riverbed. The trembling on Mount Mecq increased with the rock slide.
Silvas lowered his arms still more, keeping the quarterstaff horizontal. There were new chants now, a new target. The deluge of lightning eased off and finally ended, leaving a halo of smoke and dust on the newly truncated top of Mount Balq. The falling rocks tumbled and continued to break into smaller portions with loud cracking assaults on the numb ears of the people above. The rock spread out in both directions, filling the riverbed.
Water splashed. The rocks stopped the Eyler and gave it a new chop. Dust rose above the splatter and then settled. By the time the last of the avalanche came to rest, the Eyler had been most thoroughly dammed to a point two feet below the farm fields on the Balq side. There was somewhat more room between the dam and the top of the bank on the village's side.
The near end of Mount Balq's crest now looked much as it had during the Council that had met there during the night, a large flat ledge with only a few stones to mar it. The slope of the hill had changed near the Eyler as well. There was almost a sheer drop from crest to foot, giving the end of the hill the look of a stone column braced only by low buttresses.
Silvas relaxed and brought his staff down, resting the iron end on the ground, holding the staff in his right hand, leaning a little against it as he looked at his handiwork. The dam was two hundred feet thick, strong enough to stand against anything that unassisted nature might throw against it, too massive for humans to dismantle. The top of the dam was flat and level, almost as if masons had set the rocks in place. It might be the work of two winters for the villagers to put the final finishing touches to the top of the dam, if they wanted to bother. The dam would not require that attention.
It is a beautiful dam, Silvas thought. Despite the urgency of the moment, he had put his full attention to the details. The dam was strong enough and precisely the proper height for Mecq's needs. It would not end the spring floods, but it would make them more reliable. The village would not be threatened, though. Even at the flood, the Eyler would spill through the gap into Blethye fast enough to avoid damaging the village. And beyond that, there was just too much room for the water to spread across the valley Balqside. Before the village could be threatened, scores of square miles of floodplain would have to be covered, with new water pouring in more rapidly than the "old" water flowed out between the twin hills.
I do not think that is possible, short of another Deluge, Silvas thought. It is a good job.
The wizard turned around, staying within his segment of the pentagram. He shouted up toward the castle walls, "I have fulfilled my vow to the people of Mecq." After the din of the thunder, even his loudest shout sounded hollow and distant, even to him.
"You have fulfilled your vow," Sir Eustace shouted back. The amazement he felt kept any trace of resentment or anger out of his voice. He had never dreamed that such a coup might be possible. Whatever might come next, the knight knew in his heart that he had witnessed a miracle.
"You have indeed kept your vow to these people," Bishop Egbert said, as impressed as Eustace at what he had seen-and felt. His ears still rang.
"It may take weeks for the river to overtop the dam," Silvas said in a normal speaking voice, "but I doubt that we will have to wait that long for the Blue Rose to respond. My challenge to them was much too loud."
Almost as he spoke, the sky began to grow night dark in the distance, over Blethye-black and dark purples, shades that immediately called to mind the vision of the Council. The stain over the distant sky expanded and raced toward Mecq. More slowly the people on Mount Mecq caught the sense of thousands of hoofbeats, felt as much as heard, racing ahead of the darkening sky, and a storm wave of fear pressing even ahead of the unseen riders.
Within the pentagram, both Bishop Egbert and Brother Paul fell to their knees to cross themselves and pray. The bishop started to chant the most powerful spells of protection he knew. Over below the castle wall, the monks of his chapter also went to their knees, adding their strength to the bishop's. Even Silvas had to hold his emotions in tight rein to keep from showing his apprehension at the now visible threat of the Blue Rose's anger.
The horror was almost at hand.