"We have gone through much in our lives." Boyce said as he sighed. "Now, the hour approaches. I hope that I will take Phoride as mine — as we had promised my father."
"Those were great years." agreed Lloyd. "We learned much, and have seen more than the most men see in ten lifetimes."
"That is so, my friend. What's more, we could never have done it without you and your family. I needed your guidance and you obliged by giving me the fullest possible education that you could."
"I had learned just as much through your help, Boyce." said Lloyd, with a degree of modesty that made what Boyce had said before, less than fantastic.
As the two men talked so did Orren, at Halls. He had a private council with the high cardinals and he arranged with all of them to bring into Pomperaque, the entire monastic army.
It wasn't unusual that all the high cardinals would give their consent to Orren's requests. They, too, had seen the strange signs in the skies and each one of them had their own ideas concerning the meaning to the Seer's prophesy.
When Manguino found out about the armies being put on a battle alert status he was enraged. He didn't want to have a battle because he believed that the city had nothing to fear. Only he, he thought, had a threat on his life and rule.
Jessuum Benitar had told him that he would answer for his actions and that he should prepare himself, but in that, there was no indication of war. He had imagined that the ancient Christ would judge him. That was odd since he had kept that ancient religion from the people, as did the Canon Di'Vaticanus, from so long ago.
The ArchBishop didn't know what to do and no one could give him advice that sounded sane. His prophet didn't come to him any more and he knew that it was his own fault for being lewd towards the only one who could possibly help him.
He should've controlled Phoride and his life differently, he now began to think. He thought that he could have had the same power, as he now has, if he had half as many people executed and had partaken less in his debauchery with whatever women he could invade, under the excuse of wanting progeny. Maybe he cursed himself, and it wasn't Brook's curse that produced horrid creatures and idiots as his children.