Marc Chadbourn - The Devil in green

Stefan was ashen-faced when he arrived, but his eyes had a dark avarice about them. Stefan silenced Blaine with a curt wave before he could open his mouth. He went directly to Cornelius's body and knelt beside it in prayer. There was a theatrical note to his action that irked Mallory, but no one else appeared to notice. After a long silence, Stefan dipped his hands in the blood and smeared it on his black robes. 'We have lost something great and Godly this night,' he said in a quiet, strained voice. Tears ran down his cheeks. 'A devout man, the father of us all.' He paused before booming angrily, 'This crime shall be avenged!'

The act of pantomime was not lost on the crowd gathered further down the nave; cries of support echoed back. Stefan rose and addressed them directly. 'This crime is not just against our beloved bishop, nor against us, but against Christianity itself. Someone… something… has aimed a blow at our very heart, hoping we will fall aside… that we shall turn our backs and flee to the shadows. That must not happen! The times ahead will be harder still, and we shall all be called on to stand firm. Trials and tribulations will be inflicted on all of us, but if we each fulfil our role, if we hold our heads high in the Glory of God, then we shall overcome. Go now, in the name of our Lord, Jesus Christ, and carry word of what has happened to all our brothers. Let the period of mourning begin. The time for action shall come.'

His words were perfectly chosen. They resonated in the hearts of those watching and as one they turned and hurried from the cathedral.

'Good show,' Gibson said when Stefan turned back to them. 'Gravitas. Perfect. We need to steady the hand on the tiller in this dark time.'

Mallory looked to Julian, who had as much right to leadership as Stefan, but Cornelius's advisor and friend sat hunched on a pew, broken by his grief. It was a time for the hard men, Mallory thought.

Blaine turned to Mallory and the knights. 'You lot, find a sheet to wrap the… ah…' He struggled for a word with decorum, but could only come back to body. 'Take it up to the infirmary and see what Warwick can find out. Then report to the great hall.' He turned to Stefan. 'I'm getting all the knights together… arming up. This might be the first strike in a war. Those things could be attacking even as we speak. We've got to be ready to knock 'em back.'

'Well said, Mr Blaine,' Stefan agreed. 'I have every faith in you to oversee our defence. Go to it.'

Blaine marched away with Hipgrave scurrying and jumping behind him. Stefan and Gibson followed without a backward glance at Cornelius, as if he wasn't there at all.

'Hard men,' Mallory said, echoing his earlier thought, 'for hard times.'

Miller was crying quietly, still in prayer with his eyes shut. He looked as though the final supports of his life had been kicked away. Gardener, too, looked tattered, uncommonly emotional; he wouldn't meet anyone's gaze.

'Better get to it, then.' Daniels' shoulders had sagged. He tried to make a hopeful face at Mallory, but it wouldn't fix. 'I suppose this isn't the end of it,' he sighed.

'No,' Mallory replied. 'I'm betting it's just the start.'

The infirmary was lit by several lanterns that gave an odd, too-bright distortion to all the white tiles. Warwick emerged from a back room wearing pristine white scrubs. He took one look at the leaking sheet slung between Mallory, Gardener and Daniels, then down at his clothes and gritted his teeth.

'Get it on the table,' he snapped.

The knights laid the body out carefully while Warwick stood in the background, muttering with irritation. But when the sopping shroud fell away revealing the face, the medic started, his eyes widening. He looked around at them as if someone was playing a particularly vicious prank on him.

'Murder,' Gardener said grimly. 'No suspects. Yet.'

'What's it all coming to?' Warwick said under his breath. He gingerly lifted the sheet to see the extent of Cornelius's wounds, stared blankly for a moment, then dropped it.

'I think they were hoping for an autopsy,' Daniels ventured.

'An autopsy?' Warwick raged. 'He's dead. What more do they need to know?'

'What weapon was used. How the attack was carried out,' Mallory said. 'Who did it.'

'I'm a surgeon, not a coroner. That kind of examination requires specialist knowledge.'

Gardener snatched a towel from the side and threw it at him. 'Do your best.' There was so much repressed anger in his voice that Warwick's annoyed reaction was frozen. 'From now on, we're all mucking in. Pulling together. We'll do what's expected of us. So get on with it.'

Brooding, he stalked out of the room. Miller shifted uncomfortably. 'Go on,' Mallory said to him. 'You don't have to hang around if you don't want to.'

Miller forced a smile from his tear-streaked face and hurried after Gardener. Mallory and Daniels took up seats in the corner of the room while Warwick brought over a stainless-steel tray of instruments. After that, he called for his assistant, an old man with long white hair who, from his trembling hands, had overheard the news. He prepared to take notes with a precious Biro.

Warwick worked diligently, cutting and probing, occasionally cursing under his breath. His white gown quickly became stained.

'The first patient he's had who never complained,' Daniels whispered behind his hand to Mallory.

As the time dragged on, Mallory's attention wandered. 'Heard any news on your radio?' he said to Warwick.

Warwick's lips tightened and his eyes flickered towards his assistant. 'I haven't got a radio.'

'OK, heard any news from people passing through the infirmary,' Mallory said pointedly.

'I have.' Warwick gingerly held a pair of spring-loaded shears before attacking Cornelius's ribcage. 'Still no news from abroad. But there has been… talk… of a Government being established in Oxford.'

Daniels grew alert. 'The PM survived, then?'

'I don't know who's in the Government, just that a Government is being set up,' Warwick said irritably. 'There'll be some kind of order established within six months, so they say. The first aim is to get communications up and running, including food distribution, particularly to urban areas-'

'I can't believe anyone's crazy enough to stay in the cities,' Mallory said. 'What are they going to eat? They must have looted everything they can get their hands on by now.'

'-and then they're hoping to get some kind of local power sources up and running, if they can,' Warwick continued.

'How are they going to do that?' Daniels said. 'I heard all the nuclear power stations had gone… wiped out somehow. There can't be any kind of oil or gas supplies-'

'I'm only reporting what I heard,' Warwick snapped.

Daniels clapped his hands. 'Things could be getting back to normal,' he said enthusiastically.

'Whoop-de-doo.' Mallory remained unmoved.

'What's wrong with you?'

'Don't you remember what it was like? Work, money, power-seeking, mundanity, no time for anyone to live or breathe

'You need to lighten up, Mallory. It was never as bad as all that.'

'Yes, it was — you just get numb to it. You sink down into it, like a swamp, and forget there's fresh air above. The clock has been set back at zero, Daniels — it's a chance finally to get things right. It doesn't mean we have to take on board all the shit to get the good stuff back, but that's the way it's going to be if the same old people end up in charge again. They've got a vested interest in the society we had before. It made them fat and rich and powerful.'

'You know what you are Mallory — an anarchist.'

'You say that as though it's a bad thing.'

'If you two have completed your irrelevant navel-gazing, I've finished here.' Warwick covered the body with a little more reverence than he had shown before.