Kuldeep Suraj did not fight in three wars to become a babysitter, yet here he was.

  The first was against the Portuguese conquest of Goa. Suraj had actually survived, his unit retreating when the battle was lost, but Suraj passed away a week later from a fever. Technically a knife had finished the job, the medics unable to cure the injection on his upper thigh. Amputation was an option, but Suraj would preferred death. Fortunately, or unfortunately, he found there was no rest in death. Soon he was fighting in the second holy war of Purgatory, what reinstated the Church of today. His third and final major war was the war of three kings. He trembled. Suraj could still smell the smoke of burnt bodies; see the horrors of the mage’s concoction. The archbishop promised himself that he would never fight again after that day, but nearly three hundred years later, his hand itched. He felt the need to grab his spear, but it wasn’t by his side, instead it sat up on the wall as an ornament.

  The golden spear was the centerpiece of the wall; around it were dozens of weapons. Swords, knives, shields, axes, maces and hammers. Suraj had claimed each one in battle. All were respectable weapons, not the coward’s rifle. Sure the modern “gun” as they called it was great for arming the cannon fodder, something to make the front liners feel brave or for the policemen on the street to control the common folk, but real steel was the thing you held in your hand, that needed muscle behind it to crack your opponents skull. It was honorable.

  Do not get me started on mages, Suraj thought, too useful for the cretin they are. Always demanding extra lifespan for their expenses, then going on to claim that they control the battlespace.

  The idea of taking up his spear was becoming more appealing with each day, each prolonged meeting, each time he had to babysit his boss, but the wars were dead. He had won. And with it, he built his own private Hell.

  ‘I heard there is good game to the south,’ the boy said. ‘Goland, what type of monster did you say was good for hunting?’

  The boy looked roughly fourteen. That would be the upper limit he would risk aging without going mad. His face was smooth and round with a broad frame for a boy his age, his arms were stocky, his hair a soft brown and his body was short. He looked like a grown man that had shrunk vertically and retained his original width. He was dressed in those holy garbs of all white, trimmed with gold, but shortened around the limbs to adapt to the heat of Kerioth. His eyes were pearlescent and glowing softly, under the sunlight that streamed from the circular window behind Suraj.

  ‘I spoke of a few, your holiness,’ Goland said in a curt, emotionless voice. ‘There are the stone-lions that live in the mountain range to the south; they are ambush hunters that make for an enjoyable hunt. Or there is a species of giant centipede recently noted to the south east near the great ravine.’

  Goland never stepped out of her armor even in the sweltering summer heat. She stood over six feet tall and had a frame to make Suraj look like a twig. Her forehead was thick, broad and neanderthalic. She gripped her shield and spear with an iron fist that seemed to be choking the weapons, driving splinters from the shaft. It was common for a cardinal to have two holy-knights by their side when outside of the Messiah’s land, but Suraj did not doubt Goland to manage by herself. That did not mean there was no second guard, only that Suraj did not see them.

  ‘Mountain lions are a bore,’ the boy said, waving his wrist, ‘but this other beast sounds interesting.’

  This boy was no ordinary child. He was his Eminence, the Cardinal of Iscariot Robert Arnaldus. Robert was once the most feared general in Purgatory, but those days were forgotten, by the world and Robert too.

  ‘I have heard of these centipedes,’ Suraj said. ‘Talk is that it could just be the single monster causing havoc; we have little information on it. The creature seems exceptionally dangerous from all reports. I would warn against-’

  ‘Sounds like fun!’ Robert said, swiping his arm through the air. ‘Goland, finish preparations for the hunt, we shall leave tomorrow morning.’

  Suraj held back a sigh. Looking into Goland’s eyes, it seemed she felt similarly. Another proud warrior reduced to caring for a child. Granted that child was a millennia old.

  ‘Your holiness, I would consider-’

  A knock at the door cut Suraj off. Robert spun, looking at the great double door. Only the Bishops were allowed on this floor, which meant it could only be one of them, but they should know better, they should be aware of who was visiting Kerioth today.

  Which of my six fools has decided they are more important than a cardinal is?

  ‘Enter,’ Robert commanded as if it was his office.

  The door swung open to reveal a dark skinned man with short-cropped hair. He had a coward’s posture with a slight hunch, but his eyes seemed determined if anything else, staring straight into Suraj’s soul.

  The youngest bishop it is. Suraj was supremely disappointed with the current state of the bishops of Kerioth, diplomats and schemers all. They acted like the master of the house could not hear the rats scurrying in his walls. They were all that was left after all the warriors decided would rather die again on the battlefield then go into work in the Church. However, could Suraj blame them?

  ‘Father Suraj,’ David said, giving a short bow across the room.

  This will be interesting. It was custom to address the highest ranking person in the room, especially when that person held one twelfth of this world’s wealth and power. Robert was not the brutalist nor maddest cardinal, yet David’s mistake had crushed his chance of surviving to the end of the day.

  ‘You,’ Robert said, his chin raised in pride. ‘Do you know no manners?’

  Now in the light, Suraj saw that David had bags under his eyes and when he rubbed them he barely seemed to register what was said to him. He stared at the giant woman from head to toe and then apparently decided she – and the runt by her side - were unimportant. ‘Sorry bud,’ David said, tapping the cardinal on his shoulder, ‘didn’t see you there, nice to meet you and all, but I have something really important to talk to the archbishop about so if you could scram I’d appreciate that.’

  Chance of survival went from slim to non-existent.

  David turned from the two without a second thought, moving towards Suraj. The dead man walks. Goland raised her spear with an emotionless face, waiting for the order. There was nothing Suraj could do to save him now. He would have to replace another bishop within a week.

  But Robert was not red with rage, he looked bewildered.

  ‘Father I come to you-’

  Goland gripped David's neck, her fingers closing all the way around. She lifted him off his feet and placed him back in front of Robert, then kicked his knees in so he was kneeling. It was all business for her.

  Robert made a show of calming himself with a smile. ‘Do you know who I am?’

  David was going blue, trying to breath as his hands struggled against Goland’s grip. She released him and he fell onto his hands, gasping.

  ‘Well?’

  David looked to Suraj, but Suraj did not feel like wasting energy on a dead man today. Suraj shook his head slowly.

  ‘I don’t know,’ David said, meeting Robert's eyes, ‘because you haven’t told me.’

  Robert frowned and Suraj turned away, not wanting to witness David’s end, but then the cardinal laughed. ‘You are a funny man.’ Robert’s laughter cut off abruptly and he put his face inches from David’s. ‘A funny man on thin ice.’ Robert pinched his fingers to exemplify his point.

  David nodded, looking more confused than scared.

  ‘But you are right,’ he said, ‘I have not introduced myself. My name is Robert.’ He offered his hand. David took it and stood up.

  ‘I’m David,’ he said, fixing his collar, ‘Lovely to make your acquaintance.’

  Goland raised her spear again.

  ‘It’s fine,’ Robert said, waving her away. ‘David, you said you had something important to share, why don’t you tell us about it?’

  David tensed up. ‘Oh, yes, well, that was more for Father Sur-’

  ‘Share it.’

  ‘Go on son,’ Suraj said with a sigh.

  To be honest, Suraj was quite interested to hear what David had to say. Suraj had very little interaction with the newest bishop, very young for his rank. Suraj could think of few bishops younger than a century. A man with a perfect track record. If only David were also a fighter, or at least less of a fool, then the succession of archbishop would be clear. If only Suraj could leave Kerioth knowing it would not fall within a week, then he could happily leave it behind and retake his spear.

  ‘You see, there are these inventions that I think may be beneficial to the people if integrated into the city.’

  Now Suraj remembered, he was that contraption nerd.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  ‘Well let's hear them,’ Robert said. ‘I want to see what was worth interrupting my conversation.’

  David's face lit up with excitement. ‘Okay so there is a water filter-’

  ‘Next,’ Robert said.

  David seemed annoyed but continued, ‘A machine that toasts bread slices-’

  ‘Next.’

  ‘A record player-’

  ‘Next.’

  David fumbled with his pocket pulling out a small watch, ‘A new type of-’

  ‘Next.’

  ‘A electrical generator that runs off-’

  ‘I don't even know what that is. Next.’

  ‘A combustion engine for automobi-’

  ‘Next. Next. Next,’ Robert said growing frustrated, ‘Is there anything, just anything you have to show that is remotely interesting?’

  That is the problem with his inventions, they focus too much on helping the people, and “the people” have no money.

  David smiled, a calculating smile. ‘There is this one thing.’

  Robert rolled his hand in “hurry up” motion.

  What is he plotting? Suraj wondered.

  ‘A weapon capable of penetrating defensive coating.’

  Goland was first to react, in a blink of an eye she was standing between David and Robert holding her shield, silent and ready. Suraj was next, his jaw dropping slightly, but then the realism hit; what David claimed was impossible or at the least it should be impossible. Robert was last, giving a short chuckle.

  To present it to a man whose primary defense was coating. The only reason he had lived so long is because no commoner could ever hope to defeat his armour. It was almost more foolish than interrupting a cardinal. Surely, he would not present this without basis. He cannot be that idiotic.

  A weapon capable of breaking through coating. It could be true, possibly, only possibly. Perhaps against lower strength coatings. If what David said were true, the implications were large. If what he said were true and it worked against stronger coatings, the world would change. A rifle capable of slaying warriors who have spent hundreds of years training, becoming invincible. A coward's weapon that could kill those at the top of the food chain, turn the pyramid on its head. A tool to create a war.

  * * * *

  Suraj found a note on his desk.

  The meeting with David had wrapped up with buzzing questions from Robert. A new toy always excites children. Goland showed little interest and gave no opinion. Suraj should have been worried. However, at the prospect of something capable of turning the world upside down, removing his comfortable seat from underneath him, it took every ounce of Suraj’s willpower not to show his joy on his face. His personal purgatory might finally be ending.

  He did warn the cardinal. The warnings were disregarded as expected and a showcase of this weapon was scheduled in a fortnight when Robert would return from his hunt. David was unsure he could meet this timing, but hesitantly agreed. David was even less enthusiastic when Suraj pulled him aside afterward and told him the showcase would be in seven days, not fourteen, allowing Suraj to assess its capability alone. David did not have a choice.

  Suraj spent an hour making rounds in the cathedral, seeing and being seen where necessary. When he returned to his office there was the note. The handwriting was sloppy, but Suraj recognized the hand that wrote it. It read:

  Meet me in your office

  at midnight

  alone

  There was no signature, but it was her, there was no doubt. So Suraj waited and when the moon was high, casting blue glances through his window and the candle wicks were all half gone, she arrived.

  Dressed in nothing better than rags she would pass for the average scum in Kerioth. Under her cloak was the faint outline of a breast plate. She may have removed most of her amour, but she was still an ash-knight; as Suraj had learnt, old habits die hard. She wore that patch over her left eye and gripped her spear in her right hand. Suraj felt the cold wooden handle of his spear resting across his lap.

  ‘Kuldeep,’ she said.

  ‘Rez,’ he replied in monotone. ‘What brings you here, so far behind enemy lines on a night like this?’

  ‘Enemy lines? I see no enemies in this room, only an old friend.’

  ‘So is that a walking stick in your hand? I did not realize the fearsome Stray Cat had grown so frail.’

  Rez glanced at her spear, and at his, ‘I thought a sparring session was long overdue, the last was-’

  ‘Three hundred years ago. I would rather forget it.’

  ‘We never will.’

  ‘You should have finished me off,’ Suraj said calmly, but the rage was boiling inside, climbing up his throat. Lying there in that mud, broken and beaten was worse than death; worse than any hell that could have followed.

  Rez walked forward, just outside of striking range. It did not feel like she had come to finish the job.

  ‘I have heard things,’ she said. ‘Things I think are better for all that you hear.’

  ‘Give it up, the war is over. No matter what you say, we will continue to hunt down and crush the revolutionaries. What are your numbers down to? Less than a hundred?’

  ‘I do not weep over the war any longer, I made my decisions.’

  There was a silence that seemed to hang forever. Rez stared deep into Suraj’s eyes as if trying to find the answer to a question buried within.

  ‘Goland is in the city,’ Suraj said, unable to handle the silence.

  ‘I know,’ Rez said with a wistful smile, ‘I saw her and I’m pretty sure she smelt me.’

  ‘You trained a monster in that one. Unfortunately for you, the Cardinal of Iscariot is probably the safest man in Purgatory.’

  ‘Do you really think I am hunting that boy? His madness has removed him from the game; there are no cardinals left playing.’

  ‘Then what are you here for?’ Suraj asked. ‘Tell me and be done with it.’

  ‘I do not regret the old war,’ Rez said, ‘but I would do anything to prevent another.’

  ‘So you have come to finally surrender the resistance?’

  Rez shook her head. ‘There is a new war brewing, a terrible one.’

  Suraj’s thoughts were filled with the weapon promised by David. Did she know or was it unrelated? Suraj suspected the weapon had the ability to start a war, but for Rez to confront him so quickly.

  ‘The Church has already fallen,’ she said.

  Suraj laughed. ‘And here I sit, atop the rubble.’

  ‘I am serious Kul, I hope I am wrong, but I am serious.’

  ‘You hope you are wrong? Have you not spent years trying to rid this world of the Church?’

  ‘Under different circumstances. What is coming will be a butchering of civilians, an eternity of torture.’

  ‘Stop speaking riddles.’

  She rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘The holy-knights will turn on you, their leaders have already began moving. For all my disdain of the Church, all my hate for the cardinals, the current system is better than what is to come.’

  ‘You expect me to believe the holy-knights are staging a coup?’

  ‘I did, but maybe I put too much faith in you.’

  Suraj could not take it any longer; he slammed his fist on the desk. ‘What fucking game are we playing here Rez? The last time I saw you, you spat on my broken body and called me a child murderer.’ his voice was growing hoarse, ‘You were right, I fucking killed them. Maybe not by my own hand, but is that any better? Three hundred fucking years’ worth of them. Then you waltz in here and tell me what is coming is worse. What could be worse than that Rez?’

  ‘I’m sure you have a vivid enough imagination.’ She walked across the room and put her hand on the door. ‘I said what I came to say. Be wary the holy-knights, they will come soon. Once their iron grip is on a city, they will never let go and every man, woman and child reborn into that city is doomed for an eternity to come.’

  ‘Why tell me this? What makes you think I would trust a traitor?’

  She turned to face him; the light illuminated her eye patch and the ugly scar underneath that it failed to hide. ‘We both believed we were righteous back then. Even now we share a common goal with conflicting methods: prevent Purgatory from joining the ranks of Hell.’

  Rez slipped into the night.