The Devil in Green (67 page)

The hangover from Cornelius's death was strong, affecting the mood
deeply so that everyone expected something worse to come. The supplies
were also diminishing rapidly, the dishes becoming more imaginative to
utilise the sparse range of vegetables remaining in the stores. They'd even
started slaughtering the milk-producing cows; the sheep, pigs and chickens were already gone.

The detailed questioning of everyone in the cathedral regarding
Cornelius's murder had continued unabated without any noticeable
advances. There had been no further outbreaks of violence, but that did
little to make anyone feel more secure.

Mallory, Miller, Daniels and Gardener had been kept under such a
strict timetable that they had not found any opportunities to search for the
killer anywhere beyond the very edges of the shadowy shifting zone.
'We've got to find some way to get in there - it's our responsibility,' Miller
urged at every opportunity, until he was shouted down by the other three
every time the first few words came from his lips. Eventually, Mallory, as
their unelected leader, was convinced that he should talk to Hipgrave,
who, though plainly unstable, had the same object in mind and could
manipulate the work rotas. Mallory silently resolved to put it off until the
last moment.

The tunnel progressed slowly, through several collapses, much to the
annoyance of everyone who saw the short distance that had to be
traversed; there were simply no engineers in the cathedral, and in such a
precarious environment best guesses didn't work. The dismal mood was
made worse by the sounds of music and gaiety that floated over the wall
from the travellers' camp beyond.

And every night the hordes of hell attacked with a vigour that had not
been evident at the onset, as if they sensed that their moment was coming.
Their tactics had changed too: instead of a frontal assault, they would
sometimes storm St Ann Gate in the east, or Harnham Gate in the south.
Occasionally, they would disrupt the metal sheeting or bring cracks to
stone that had stood firm for centuries, prompting frenzied repairs. For so
long the brethren had felt secure in their fortress. Now fear was rising that
it was only a matter of time before the beasts broke through.

*

Blaine summoned the knights on the morning of November the thirteenth.
It was a bright day, the first warm one for weeks, and that helped raise
spirits a little.

Since Stefan's coronation, the knights' commander had rarely been
seen, locking himself away with Hipgrave and Roeser to discuss strategy
before debating it with Stefan and Broderick, whose role as leader of the
Inquisition had earned him a place at the new bishop's right hand. That
morning, Blaine had the bright-eyed look of someone finally ready for
vengeance. He strode to the front of the great hall with purpose and a
spring in his step. Hipgrave and Roeser took up positions behind him and
to either side.

'I'm sure all this waiting around getting beaten on has annoyed you as
much as it has me.' He had a gleam in his eye and a faint, cruel smile on his
lips. 'Well, you'll be pleased to know that period is now officially over.
We're not scared, we're not weak. We're men
.
. . men of God . .
.
and
now we're going to show that we can't be forced to cower, or hide. That
we're not going to be overrun. It's time for us to stand up proudly and
prove
who we are.' He ground his teeth together so hard everyone on the
front row heard it. 'Now we strike back.'

Hipgrave and Roeser disappeared to the back of the hall and returned
with a long, low crate. They levered off the lid with a dagger, delved into
the straw packing and removed two rifles, both of which looked like
Second World War issue. Hipgrave handed one to Blaine who checked the
loading mechanism and sighting.

'In the basement of the former regimental headquarters of the Royal
Gloucestershire, Berkshire and Wiltshire Regiment, now part of the
cathedral compound, there is a store of weapons and a limited supply of
ammunition,' he said, still admiring the sighting. 'They're not exactly top
of the range, but they still pack a pretty big punch.'

'Bastard didn't dish those out when we were riding into the danger
zone,' Mallory hissed to Daniels.

'He was saving them for people who mattered,' Daniels replied wryly.

Blaine tossed the rifle back to Hipgrave who deposited it back in the
box. 'For too long those devils have attacked us freely. They think we
haven't got any teeth. Tonight we're going to show them that we have.
Tonight we're going to make them scared of
us,
by hitting one of the most
important, powerful demons out there. Prepare yourself for a tremendous
victory. We gather on the rooftop at nineteen hundred hours precisely
tomorrow night.'

As he left the great hall, a ripple of impromptu applause ran through the
knights. Even Mallory, who had no respect for the authority or badge, felt
a wave of excitement at the thought of finally doing something after weeks
of
inactivity.

In the end, it was Hipgrave who made the first move. Mallory was
finishing
a
small bowl of thin carrot soup after a hard morning of physical
training and overseeing repairs to
the
walls when the captain crossed the
refectory purposefully.

'Mallory,'
Hipgrave said with a curt nod, knowing they were being
watched. But when he sat down he leaned across the table conspiratorially.
'There's something
I
want you to see.'

'I'm surprised you've found the time to come here. Blaine seems to be
relying on you more and more.'

Hipgrave gave a self-satisfied smile. 'It often takes a crisis for someone's
true worth to be recognised.
But
if anything, it's only made me more aware
of
my responsibilities.
We
have to flush that devil out
before it
strikes
again,
Mallory. And
it will, make no mistake, because that's its nature.'
He
rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
Mallory
could see the instability clearly upon
him, in the long, odd pauses in his speech or the exaggerated gestures he
often made to underline a point.
It
wouldn't take much for him to crack. 'I
have to be honest here,
Mallory,
you
wouldn't have
been my first choice to
stand at my shoulder on this.
You've
not got the military mind. You're
subversive and untrustworthy.'

'Thanks,' Mallory said, draining the last of his soup.

Hipgrave dropped a hand firmly on
Mallory's
wrist. 'This is no joke,
Mallory. We
have been gifted with
a
tremendous responsibility.
I
spent a
long time wrestling with why
I was
made to suffer by seeing the changes
that happened in this place when everyone else
was
blind to it.
Why I
was
made to be an outsider.' Mallory realised this was the worst thing that
could have happened to
Hipgrave. 'And
then
I
realised
it
was because
I
had been chosen by the Lord, for a mission.'