It was possible, of course, that the Silverback had been hiding his true intentions all this time… but what in Sin’s name could they be? First, he wanted to kill the king, then he agreed with Farris’s assessment that the king could not in fact be killed. That was when they all agreed that poisoning the king and leaving him as the last of the Móráin line would be the next best thing. It would be far better, Argyll had argued, to have one fool of a ruler to manipulate, rather than a dozen lords and reagents acting on behalf of a child king. No, King Diarmuid was the Silverback’s best bet in achieving his goals, and that was the last time he and Farris saw eye to eye.
Farris ignored the burning gaze of the human prisoner across the way. Then what changed since then? Could it have been the Sons of Seletoth?
It was plausible, of course, that Argyll’s involvement with the cult had made him change his mind on the matter of Divine Penetrance. With the Sons believing that King Diarmuid held no real power, and that Seletoth was the One True God, it would make sense that Divine Penetrance would clash with their ideals. And if Argyll had subscribed to those ideals, too, then….
Why do I bother? Farris pulled himself from that trail of thought. I’m no philosopher, nor a politician. I’m in no way equipped to be considering matters like these.
He sighed deeply. It was true, of course, that he had no place in politics. That was a realm far better suited to his brother. Garth was always better at fitting in than Farris was.
Why can’t things be the way they were?When all I had to worry about was the latest Guild job, or escaping the authorities….
He glanced around the cell, at the grubby walls and the rusted bars, and despite everything that had happened, a smile touched his lips.
“What’s so funny?” called the prisoner across the way. “What are you laughing at?”
“Irony,” sighed Farris. He leaned his head against the back wall again.
The old Farris would never had ended up in a cell….
A cry broke out somewhere overhead, causing Farris to jump out from his seat. It was followed by another, then another. Roars and shouts muffled by a hundred feet of solid stone. Farris pressed his ear against the wall. He heard them again, clearer than before, but he couldn’t make out the words.
One thing was evident. These weren’t cries for help, but cries of valour. Of men charging on their enemy. Of battle.
“What’s that?” called the other prisoner. He stammered slightly through the words. “Did… did you hear it?”
“A street fight,” said Farris, though he didn’t believe his own words. “We’re right in the middle of the Dustworks. You know how those gangs can be….”
More sounds of battle echoed through the ceiling, but Farris could do nothing but listen. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew what this was. But his logical sense knew it was impossible.
It couldn’t be. The horde was at Cruachan not one day ago… or was it two?
The familiar footsteps of the Churchguard resounded through the corridor, though they seemed to be moving slightly faster than before.
“Hey! You!” called the other prisoner once the guard arrived. “What’s going on up there?”
The Simian guard did not hesitate for a second. “The undead horde,” he said, so calmly that Farris wondered if he even knew what those words meant. “The Triad is fighting them at the gates. They won’t harm us down here.”
“Oh, fuck that!” called Farris. For the first time since he had been put into the cell, the guard turned to look at him. “Do you honestly believe that? All the other Seachtú fell to the horde. What makes Penance any different?”
“It is not my place to question the Triad’s authority,” said the guard, turning again to leave. “And it is certainly not your place to question mine.”
“No!” roared the other prisoner. “You listen to me. I’m not gonna sit on my arse and wait for the dead to come. Open up this damn cage or you’ll regret it!”
The guard simply continued down the hall, as if he didn’t hear the prisoner’s request. But that didn’t stop the Human from shouting obscenities as he walked away.
They’ll never let us out. The dead will come down on top of us, and we’ll be trapped. We don’t stand a chance.
The cacophony of battle overhead grew louder, just as the anxiety ripping through Farris’s body became more intense. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
This can’t be happening. Not now. Not yet. Not when I can’t even fight.
He leapt forward and grabbed the steel bars with both hands. He gripped them and pulled until his knuckles whitened, crying aloud as he did. He knew it was futile, he knew there was no point, but he had to try. Skies above and below, he had to at least try.
But even with all his strength and all his determination, the bars did not budge.
Breathless, and with aching muscles, Farris stepped away from the bars. This is it. There’s nothing left to do….
The Churchguard appeared again, patrolling slowly back down the corridor. Something was different about his expression this time. As if he were no longer the cold-hearted soldier he was a moment ago. As if his mind was no longer in the prison with the others.
“Guard,” called Farris, careful to keep his tone more diplomatic than before. “You said the Triad’s army was sent to the frontline to hold the horde back. But what about the Churchguard?”
The guard stopped, and then took a moment to reply. “The Churchguard will remain within the Basilica. The Arch-Canon has ordered that the ancient relics and texts of the Church should be protected from whatever threat may enter the city.”
“And you agree with this, that your place is to stay here and guard us, instead of protecting the citizens of Penance?”
“I have my orders,” said the guard. “I will not abandon my post.”
“I understand,” said Farris, staring back at the Simian guard. “I grew up in the Dustworks, in poverty, and I know how important it is to make a living. I’d take the Faith and lick the Arch-Canon’s boots if it meant my family would be clothed and fed.”
The guard’s stern gaze wavered for half a breath, but that was enough for Farris.
“If I was in your position,” he continued, “I would not question anything, either. It’s the Church you serve, not the people of Penance, and that is the life you have chosen. Some Simians may resent you for taking the Faith, but not me. I know what it’s like to go to sleep hungry, night after night. Thanks to your sacrifice, your family will never know that same pain.”
“Whatever you say,” said the guard. He went to leave, but Farris cleared his throat to speak again. When he saw that this caused the guard to stop where he was, Farris knew he had hit a nerve.
“But this night changes everything,” he said, careful not to be too overbearing. “What good are you down here, when the dead are butchering the same people you’ve sworn to serve?” He paused for a moment, letting the silence add to the weight of his words. “Or do you serve the Arch-Canon first, and the people second?”
“You better watch your tongue, or—”
