When the day broke, Brook emerged from his diversion of thought. His mind and soul were determined to make strong his rightful rule in the land.
With Lloyd at his house, knowing Dearborne was safe, he made his way to
Canon's Butte to the Halls Cathedral, and the ArchBishop.
The streets were crowded with people that morning, for the Week of
Jubilee began on that day.
Slowly, he trod on the walkways by the emporiums and through the square, where he gave his 'good days!', to Empal and other loyal friends who stepped aside, and let him pass without a struggle.
He spoke to his subjects during his walk, and offered some bits of confidence to them and received some in return. Strength returned to him and his apprehensions about his meeting with the ArchBishop decreased in severity. With his faith in good and his will prepared to conquer evil, through a show of strength, he replaced his insecurity.
But evil played the game well and the roles of strength were weighed in a balance by patience and peace. Both were prodded and teased by temptation and mistrust, and attempted to tip the scales in favour of the incubation.
Brook stood in the confines of the cleric's office and looked out the window at the water fountain below, where the vicars and novices pruned the grass and floral scape, and had some fun. They bathed their white skins on this day, allowed for this Week of Jubilee to be without their habits when within the walled grounds of the Cathedral. Their abundant loin-clothes flapped about in the slight breeze that blew off the ocean nearby. So close, in fact, that one would be able to see it from the windows of Halls' southern most parts.
Brook waited a long time. He was apprehensive about seeing the ArchBishop. After all the times that Brook denied his own conference to him, he was now himself being refused the immediate audience that he demanded.
Brook became nerved and enraged but he knew that he'd dare not leave now, for it would show defeat on his foe's ground and on his foe's terms. He knew, that to choose the humility of his waiting for a subordinate, would moreso be forgotten than if he were to retreat from the stand-off with the ArchBishop, and his weapon of time and patience.
He brewed hateful thoughts within him mind. He cursed and prayed for God's vengeance to be his, upon the entrance of his adversary. He was aware of the ignoble egotism in the ArchBishop, with his delusions of holiness and the calling of himself: "The Almighty". But Brook knew what excrement this holy man really was and the utter evil that he possessed, inherited directly from the ancient Canon Di'Vaticanus.