OVERTURE to Nocturn, Second Movement (Part Three)

Father Aequitas sits in a hall... a hall of shadow and crimson draperies engulfing cobwebbed statues of angels and saints, crucifixes and other such things, this small forgotten hall in a city of beauty.

Father Aequitas sits in a hall behind the congregation as he hears in the background an echoing of chains and handywork as the citylike Cathedral is fortified. The clicking of boots from behind draws his attention. A bushy eyebrow raises high on a bald head. "Oh, you're the soul who served as the messenger of salvation this morning."

"Roderick, sir," as the roguish officer gave a half-hearted salute. Immediately the priest stormed onto his own feet, drawn at full amazing height. Roderick could immediately see this man had been military and a high ranking soldier at that-- it bled at this moment from his very eyes, piercing eyes which demanded respect.

"Officer Roderick Grandamme reporting for duty, sir"

"That's better, my child", the kindly old man meekly returning to his seat. All this transition baffled and terrified poor Roderick, and his strange companion even more. The man was definitely one of the great battle-priests in the days of the Gaunt Force. Never did a world create finer soldiers, and never did any soldiers deal greater justice. But he looked so tired now... Roderick's pity was aroused, distracted mainly by the small creature peeking from behind his waist.

Aequitas closed his eyes, squeezed the bridge of his nose, slumped in the wooden chair again: "So weary, Grandamme... have the slave there fetch me something, would you?"

Slave stood his ground, staring resiliently into the battle-priest's eyes.

"What is the meaning of this, does he only take orders from you?" bewildered by the odd behavior of a fool.

"He takes orders from whomever he pleases, sir. And he is no slave. He is a warrior." Warrior's grin was demonic, a strange play on a fool's innocent face, but then again, Warrior is a better name than Slave. He hoped that one stuck for a while.

"It's ridiculous, that's what it is." Damn. So much for nothing. The onslought of fatigue hit Aequitas again. "If... you are correct... If the war is headed West. This holy city will not stand."

Roderick looked around the old hall of the cathedral city, an environment quite alien to him "Sir, if you will. You seem to not have so much faith in this God of yours, that is--" He knew his mistake seeing Aequitas rise. Luckily a few other priests carrying a large chest entered the room and perhaps saved his life.

"Bullshit!", the very word shocking Roderick to hear. "I merely mean to say we won't just stand, we'll make sure the war ends in this very city. The benefactors can come to bring gifts of destruction, but I have no need to be given something I already have in abundance."

The chest opened and what Roderick and his companion saw filled them with awe.