"We are living in evil times, my son," Odo replied. "I have long known of the existence of this black heresy, which has slowly spread its baleful cult, until it has reached our very shores. But that they would dare to establish themselves in the city of the Apostle, this I was not prepared to accept, until the terrible crime at the Lateran removed the last doubt. And now I know that the foul thing has obtained a footing here, and more than that, I know that some high in power are affiliated with this society of Satan, that would establish the reign of Lucifer among the Seven Hills. Did you not tell me, my son, of one, terrible of aspect, who peered through the panel in the Capella Palatina on the night of that first and most horrible outrage?"
"One who looked as the Fiend might look, did he assume human guise," Tristan confirmed with a nod.
"The high priest of Satan," Odo returned, "a familiar of black magic—the most terrible of all heinous crimes against Holy Church. A wave of crime is rolling its crimson tide over the Eternal City such as the annals of the Church have never recorded. It started in the reign of Marozia, and Theodora is leagued with the fiend, as was her sister before her."
Odo paused for a moment, breathing deep, while Tristan listened spellbound.
"Have you ever pondered," he continued with slow emphasis, "why the Lord Alberic entrusted to you, a stranger, so important a post as the command of the Emperor's Tomb? That there may be one he does not trust and who that one may be?"
Tristan gave a start.
"There is one I do not trust—one who seems to wrap himself in a poison mist of evil—the Lord Basil."
"Be wary and circumspect. Has he of late come to the Tomb?"
"Three days ago—in company with a stranger from the North—one I may not meet and again look upon heaven."
"The woman's husband?" Odo queried with a penetrating glance.