The covered carriage rumbled down the rutted dirt streets. John winced as it ran over a large pothole and landed with a crash.

“I thought Balstat was the kingdom’s capital,” he muttered gaining a new appreciation of how smooth the cobbled streets in Corrington had been.

“I think you should understand by now that Darnos cannot be compared to Mithia,” Keith said gruffly.

John pulled the curtain back slightly and peered out at the tired looking buildings that lined the crowded street.

“Stop that,” Keith hissed.

Grimald and his group were travelling with the two White Cloaks, who were dressed as peasants, in a nondescript carriage with the curtains over the windows drawn. They were to escort them to the local cathedral before returning to Father Alan.

“Is it really that bad?” Grimald asked, “Would the people dare to attack a carriage of the Church openly?”

“Father Alan thinks it would be unwise to find out,” Simon sighed, “It seems that His Eminence, Cardinal Darren has requested an entire regiment of White Cloaks from Nitirul to help defend the cathedral here and reimpose order.”

Udoriol’s eyes widened. “And is the church dispatching troops?”

Simon shook his head. “We can’t spare the men. Most of our forces are still with the Army of Four Kingdoms restoring order and providing aid to the Southward Expansion.”

“Besides,” Keith added, “the Church will not send troops without a formal request from King Frederick.”

“And what is the king’s view on the situation?” Udoriol ventured.

“His Grace is… distracted,” Simon allowed, “For reasons you are well aware of…”

“The two issues could be related,” Grimald observed, “Have the king’s advisers pointed that out to him?”

“I’m sure His Eminence has,” Simon replied, staring at the curtained window worriedly, “But as I said, His Grace’s judgement isn’t the best right now.”

“Hey, why have we stopped?” John asked.

The White Cloaks sat up with concern. “We shouldn’t be anywhere near the castle yet,” Keith warned.

John grasped his daggers as angry shouts were heard from outside and peeped out the window. “Gentlemen, it looks like we’ve been led into a trap.”

“Stay close to me,” Udoriol said and turned to Keith, “You will have to tell me where to go.”

Keith swallowed and glanced out the window to get his bearings. “We’ll go out the right door. There’s a blacksmith thirty yards from us, we should be able to seek cover there and assess the situation.”

“How’s your foot?” Udoriol asked.

“I’ll manage,” Grimald allowed.

Udoriol nodded and John saw the determined looks in Keith and Simon’s eyes as they placed their hands on their swords.

“It’s kill or be killed,” Simon pointed out when he noticed John staring at them.

“On three,” Udoriol announced.

John felt his heart thump in his chest as the elf counted up. Simon chanted softly, and soon, John felt invigorated.

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“Three,” Udoriol breathed. He kicked open the door and stormed out with Keith close behind. John followed behind Grimald while Simon brought up the rear.

A ring of angry townspeople had gathered around their carriage, and their sudden emergence caught them off guard.

“They’re White Cloaks!” one of the mob shouted, “Look at their shimmering weapons!”

“Avenge the king!” someone else shouted.

John spotted Keith raise his sword and he was about to bring it down on a man wielding a club. Not wanting to make the situation worse rather than out of concern for the man, John threw a smoke bomb at the man’s feet. Both the White Cloak and the man stopped in their tracks as they were enveloped in a cloud of acrid smoke.

“Over there!” John shouted.

The smoke created a small gap in the cordon and Udoriol smashed a couple of men out of the way with his shield. The others picked up their pace as they made for the gap, and Grimald rolled his ankle and stumbled. John scrambled over and helped him up.

“For Shediac!” the townspeople cried as they converged on the pair.

“Leave me, laddie,” Grimald urged.

John looked around and thought about it. Udoriol was almost at the door of the blacksmith and none of the others seemed to have noticed they had fallen behind.

“Too late for that now,” John remarked grimly as the crowd turned on them.

As the crowd were advancing on them, a wagon came screaming around the corner, obliging the townspeople to scatter to avoid being run over. John watched in alarm as it avoided them by a hair before pulling to a stop.

“Get on, hurry,” urged the young lady holding the reins.

John didn’t need any more encouragement and quickly helped Grimald up before climbing aboard himself. His feet had scarcely left the ground when the lady whipped the horses. They set off quickly, and John would have fallen off had Grimald not grabbed him firmly by the wrist. The dwarf pulled the young man in who fell on top of him.

“You thought about leaving me back there, didn’t you?” Grimald panted as they lay in a heap.

“You were the one who suggested it,” John pointed out.

“We owe you our thanks, Miss…” Grimald began as he sat up.

“We’re not out of the woods yet,” the young lady warned.

John poked his head up and saw that the crowd were in hot pursuit. The young lady had the horses turn left on the next street, and then left again.

“You’re going back?” John asked incredulously as he prepared to jump off the wagon.

The young lady turned around and arched an eyebrow at John. “Would you rather I left your friends behind?”

John looked up to see Keith poking his head out of a doorway up ahead. Further down the road, the mob too had spotted him and were charging over.

“Get on, hurry!” the young lady urged as she brought the horses to a stop at a fork in the road.

Keith hesitated until John shouted, “It’s fine, come on!”

Udoriol and the two White Cloaks sprinted out of the blacksmith’s backdoor and were helped onto the wagon by John and Grimald. The driver didn’t waste any time and soon the wagon was moving even before the Whtie Cloaks were fully on board.

“We owe you our lives, young lady,” Udoriol said, panting from the exertion.

“Please tell the Inquisition when they come,” she replied tersely.

“I don’t suppose you could take us to the castle?” Grimald ventured.

The young lady shook her head. “Your driver told the leaders of the anti-Church movement your destination, they’ll be lying in wait over there.”

“Then where are you taking us?” Keith demanded.

“Somewhere safe,” came the ambiguous reply.

Keith’s face turned crimson, but his outburst of righteous fury was stayed by Simon’s hand on his shoulder.

“Righteous fury will get us nowhere now,” the older man warned.

“We’re getting off here,” the driver announced as she brought the wagon to halt.

“Come on, follow me closely,” she ordered as she walked briskly into an alleyway.

John and Udoriol helped Grimald down and they followed the young lady as she led them down the twisted maze of back alleys before knocking on the door of a large, ramshackle building with broken windows.

“It’s Lisa,” she said through the door.

A slot opened revealing a pair of eyes which appraised them each in turn. The slot slammed shut moments later and then the door opened, revealing a frail looking man who sported a mane of white hair.

“Come on, get in,” he ordered.

Udoriol and Grimald exchanged looks before following Lisa inside. John looked up and down the alley and satisfied that they hadn’t been followed, entered with the others.

He found himself in a large warehouse full of sacks of grain that were stacked in neat rows. Slept in bedding lay in a corner as well as a half-eaten meal. John’s hands drifted to his daggers. It seemed they might not be safe yet.

“Brother Simon is that you?” a voice echoed through the warehouse.

They looked up to see an elderly man with a distinguished air about him walking over. He was flanked by two men wearing swords at their sides. They were dressed in peasant clothes, but their posture and the arrogance in their walk told John that they were in disguise.

“Cardinal Darren!” Simon exclaimed in shock, “What in Treto’s name are you doing in a place like this?”

The elderly man heaved a tired sigh as he looked at Simon. “There was an attempt on the king’s life.”