St. Giradin and the Templars fell back into Dubbar's church. Sir Cristoff seized a femur from the mound of bones and slipped it in the handles of the front doors, barring the way.

"Windows too!" Sir Emeric shouted. He and Sir Philip rushed to a broken pew, lifted it, and propped it against the nearest stained-glass window.

"Giradin! Help me with this!" Sir Cristoff bellowed. St. Giradin rushed over to help Sir Cristoff lift another broken pew and prop it against a stained-glass window on the other side.

Bang!

The Vermin outside the church crashed into the front door. The femur held firm against their attack. Through the gap, St. Giradin could hear the beasts snarling and hissing on the other side. The wet noses of rats poked under the door as the rodents attempted to squeeze underneath.

Sir Cristoff and Sir Philip stomped on the rats' noses, crushing their snouts.

Smash!

Vermin shattered the stained-glass windows, pouring broken shards of red and blue into the sanctuary.

"To the belltower!" Sir Emeric cried.

St. Giradin and the Templars abandoned the sanctuary just as Vermin started climbing in through the windows they'd not yet had a chance to barricade. The saint and Templars ran to the door beside the pulpit and scurried up the spiral staircase.

Once at the top, Sir Emeric commanded everyone, "Get back!" and they backed to the edges around the gap in the middle, where the bell hung. Sir Emeric took hold of the bell's rope and pulled it taut. The bell's voice cried out through Dubbar, telling everyone in ear-shot where St. Giradin and the Templars had holed up. The Vermin would know where to find them, but so would the other Templars, Shlomo, and Fulk, if rescue was a possibility.

"Giradin! Cristoff!" Sir Emeric called out to his fellows. "When I tell you, cut the rope!"

The door at the bottom of the spiral staircase burst open. A swarm of rats poured in, followed by Vermin. The filthy creatures stared their ascent up toward the top of the belltower, wielding their rusty weapons and brandishing their dagger-like front teeth.

St. Giradin readied his seax, standing as close to the rope as he could, leaning over the abyssal fall below.

Vermin and rats drew closer, making their way around the spiral staircase.

St. Giradin's eyes darted to Sir Emeric, asking the silent question whether or not it was time.

"Steady..." said Sir Emeric, adjusting his grip on the rope.

Sir Philip stepped behind Sir Emeric and took hold of the rope with him, keeping it taut and ready for when the moment came.

The Vermin made another revolution around the staircase. Their foul stench rose to St. Giradin's nostrils and he shook his head in a vain attempt to rid himself of the odor. Even his mask, it seemed, could not fully block out that miasma.

"Hold!" Sir Emeric cried.

The rats screeched and squealed in their ascent. The Vermin glanced up, ferocity in their eyes, and hissed at St. Giradin.

"Hold!"

The Vermin drew close enough to swing their rusty weapons at St. Giradin's feet. St. Giradin and the Templars danced to keep out of reach.

"NOW!" Sir Emeric cried.

St. Giradin brought down his seax on the rope with all his might, slicing through most of the cords but leaving a few behind.

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Sir Cristoff's long-sword immediately followed, severing the rope the rest of the way.

The brass bell fell, breaking the wooden staircase and crushing the Vermin and rats in its way on the way down. The whole staircase collapsed beneath the Templars, and the bell landed at the bottom with a resounding clang which shook the tower and rattled St. Giradin's skull.

More Vermin poured in the door, climbing over the rubble and their crushed fellows. They leered up at St. Giradin and the Templars, waving their rusted blades and hissing.

St. Giradin breathed a sigh of relief, knowing they were outside the beasts' reach.

"I'm afraid it's not over yet," said Sir Emeric. "But we've bought a little more time. They will find a way up here eventually."

"What do we do?" asked St. Giradin.

Sir Emeric tilted his head to one side. "I might ask you the same thing."

"Pardon?"

"You survived a night in the Coliseum, amidst countless vengeful spirits. That was bound to be more dangerous than this."

Below them, the Vermin attempted to climb the walls in the bell-tower, using the gaps between the bricks as footholds. They had not risen that far before they lost their grip and fell back down to the bottom. Sounds somewhere between hisses and cursing in some language St. Giradin did not know called from their throats.

"How did you survive the Trial by Ordeal?" Sir Emeric asked.

"I'm not sure..." St. Giradin said. "It wasn't something I did on purpose. The Spirit filled me and I just started fighting back... my every swing, every step was guided by God."

"Well, then call for His help now," said Sir Emeric. "Pray, sing, chant... whatever you have to do."

St. Giradin sheathed his weapon and dropped to his knees, clasping his hands together. "St. Mary, pray for us, for we need a miracle," he pleaded aloud. "Save us from the unclean creatures coming to slay us. May we be spared from their violence."

The sound of wood dragging outside the church. Sir Emeric peered outside the bell-tower and saw Vermin gathering piles of crates and barrels against the outer wall to the south. Once the pile was high enough, the Vermin started climbing up onto the shingled roof.

Sir Emeric looked off into the distance, hoping to see the other Templars approaching. But they were out of sight. When Sir Emeric gave it another thought, he realized that even fifty Templars would be no match for a Vermin horde this enormous.

More and more Vermin climbed up onto the roof, ascending toward the bell-tower. Soon, they surrounded the bell-tower on all sides.

Sir Emeric readied his sword to stab the Vermin when they drew close enough. It was clear that there were far too many to fight off in this fashion forever, but he could at least slow their ascent, provide more time for a miracle.

St. Giradin continued his prayers, his voice growing more and more desperate.

Sir Philip and Sir Cristoff followed Sir Emeric's example, each taking a spot in the bell-tower best situated to fight off the creatures.

One of the Vermin got within reach, and Sir Emeric ran him through the eye. The beast slipped off his blade and rolled down the shingled roof. Other Vermin struggled to hang on as the body toppled over them.

A cool breeze blew through the bell-tower.

Sir Cristoff ran another through just as it got within reach.

Sir Philip another.

Soon all three Templars stabbed wildly as the Vermin ascended. Crimson sprayed up onto their helmets, some of it leaking through the eye-holes.

The Vermin below held up their fallen fellows' bodies as flesh and bone shields against the Templars' attacks. Sir Emeric thrust his blade over and over, trying as many angles as he could think of to try to get around the meat shields to the still-living Vermin beneath.

The pittering of rain on church's roof added to all the chaotic noise within the bell-tower.

One Vermin slipped past Sir Philip's blade and rolled into the bell-tower. The creature drew its rusty weapon and slashed at Sir Philip's torso. The blade sliced through his tabbard, and shards of rust broke off against his chain-mail. Sir Philip kicked the Vermin in the chest, sending it toppling down the gap in the middle of the spire with a horrible crunch at the bottom.

The rain grew heavier, and some of the Vermin started to slip on the shingles, struggling to keep their grip.

Two Vermin gave the dead body of one of their fallen comrades a hard shove and the corpse hit Sir Philip on the chest. The Templar lost his balance and started to tumble backward.

Sir Cristoff reached out and snatched his hand, preventing his fall.

But two Vermin leapt into the bell-tower. One jumped on Sir Philip's chest, the extra weight causing Sir Cristoff to lose his grip. The other attacked Sir Cristoff, forcing him to parry and defend himself.

Sir Philip fell through the gap and crashed onto the pile of splinters at the bottom. Motionless.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the rain turned white.

No.

It wasn't rain.

Hail fell from the heavens.

First tiny drops.

Then they grew bigger.

And bigger, until they were fist-sized balls of ice raining down from the sky.

The roar of the falling ice on the church roof was deafening. Shingles broke off the roof and the Vermin fell with them. Hailstones cracked the Vermin's skulls, and their bodies poured down off the church in piles.

Those Vermin who had not yet attempted the climb scattered, fleeing every way they could to escape the falling hailstones.