The guard kicked once, twice, and then was still.

Sabithe dropped the knife, barely cognizant of the clatter it made against the floor. He felt like weeping, but he knew this was a time when he needed to be strong. If anyone else was out at this hour — a likely event, given the war going on — they would immediately sound the alarm, and it would all be for nothing.

Summoning his strength, Sabithe straightened, looking up and down the corridor. Ahead there was an archway leading to one final set of steps, curving as they ascended. At the summit of the steps two guards would be waiting in an antechamber, behind them would be a heavy door of oak, and behind the door would be the Primate's living chamber.

For good or ill, it would end here and now.

Sabithe took a deep breath, and then began to run.

"We're being attacked. There are dead guards everywhere!" he cried as he ran through the archway and dashed up the steps. With his white priest's cassock covered in blood, he knew he would make a believable impression.

Both guards instantly drew their swords and faced up to the priest.

"Get back, priest," one of them said.

"They could be right behind me!" Sabithe said.

Sabithe moved to where he was motioned and waited for what he knew would come next. The moments dragged by — the absolute silence of solace — and the two templar guards, standing with swords drawn, began to get nervous. Sabithe stayed silent, knowing one of them needed to be the first to speak. The air was filled with the hoarse sound of breathing.

Finally, one of the guards, a burly man with a high-forehead, cracked. "What did you see?" he addressed Sabithe.

"Dead, they're all dead. I came from three floors down, and every guard I passed was dead. We need to wake the Primate."

"Shut up," said the other guard, a slim templar, lithe as a cat, with close-cropped black hair. "I need to think."

"I'll go down," said the burly guard. "If you get my confirmation, wake the Primate."

"All right," the slim guard nodded.

Sabithe knew he needed one of the guards to open the Primate's locked door, or he would never succeed in his mission.

The burly guard disappeared down the steps.

"He's right," called up the burly guard a moment later. "There's a dead man here. Wake the Primate. I'll stay here and call out if I see anything."

The slim guard looked nervous, evidently torn between facing whatever may come and waking the Primate.

"I can do it," Sabithe said. "Give me the keys."

The slim guard looked relieved. "Come here," he said.

Sabithe could see the brass keys at the guard's belt, and wondered whether he could take him, if it came to that. But this man was trained, and alert, with his sword drawn. Sabithe was no warrior; he would never succeed.