Chapter 2: In Her Father's Footsteps
-:- The 2nd Night -:-
It was the most humiliating blunder in Bram Nuade-Re Sophia-Ri's career as a director of the Clock Tower. One that, even if the other professors forgave him for, he most certainly wouldn't. To think that he trusted another magus so closely made him ill.
"This offense will not be forgotten, Idmund..."
He hissed the name of his wrongdoer as he marched through the Clock Tower's halls that night. The director of the Department of Summoning, whose office he was enroute to - was already aware of what had happened, and a private meeting have been arranged for that night.
When Bram entered the director's office, two faces he knew well were already inside - the owner of the office, Rocco Belfaban; and one of the Clock Tower's most revered lecturer's, Lord El-Melloi II. There was also a third guest, one that the young instructor had yet to be introduced to.
"Good that you could finally join us, Lord Sophia-Ri. Allow me to introduce you to Mister Emiya," the director said. "He's the one who brought the Holy Grail to the Clock Tower."
Bram gave Shirou the type of look you would expect an art appraiser to give a museum piece. Whatever value he deduced must have satisfied him, for he nodded in acknowledgement before closing the door and taking a seat adjacent to him.
"Forgive me, director. Recent events held me up."
"We were actually discussing said events before you arrived."
Lord El-Melloi II lit a cigar, ignoring a disgusted look Belfaban gave him. "So... Just how many catalysts got stolen?"
"...All of them," Bram answered.
El-Melloi sighed and puffed smoke at the same time.
"So your were cleaned out, were you?"
"Yes. Very thoroughly, I might add. It seems Idmund had been planning this hoax for quite some time. Not only did he want enough Servants to start a war with, he also wanted to leave the Clock Tower entirely defenseless. Finding new catalysts for us to use will not be easy..."
"Don't bother. You'll just be wasting your time, now."
"Lord El-Melloi, what are you-"
"The second. Don't forget the second."
"...Lord El-Melloi II, what exactly are you saying?"
El-Melloi signaled Belfaban with a look.
"According to Mister Emiya, it is currently impossible for another magus to make a contract with the Grail."
While his face was typically brimming with involuntary confidence, Bram's expression was rife with astonishment after hearing the director's words.
All eyes then fell on the Japanese sitting beside him. Realizing it was his time to speak, Shirou briefly retold the previous night's events.
"So, you made a contract with this...Ruler Servant? And you're positive there is no other way for another magus to make such a contract with her?"
"No. Not even if she wanted to."
While not the first time Bram had heard of such a contract, but Shirou was the first person he knew to have used it. Little did he know, his own late sister had made a similar contract with her fiance - the previous Lord El-Melloi - during the fourth Holy Grail War. While he knew of Sola-ui Nuade-Re Sophia-Ri's involvement in the war, the contract she and Lord El-Melloi I made was known only by Lord El-Melloi II, and the elders of both magician clans.
"Well... This puts us at a lost. With as many catalysts as Idmund swindled, it's likely he's already summoned seven Servants, or plans to do so very soon," Bram said. "We only have a single Master and two Servant to go against him."
"Idmund certainly had all his ducks in a row beforehand," added El-Melloi.
"Excuse me. Who's this 'Idmund' guy you all keep talking about?" Shirou asked.
Belfaban explained again.
"It's no suprise you haven't heard the name, Mister Emiya. Idmund Versailles had a tendency of keeping a low profile when he could. He is...was one of the Clock Tower's most astute lecturer's. As a professor within the Department of Spirit Evocation, he worked very closely with Lord Sophia-Ri, and much of Idmund's work outside of his lectures, went unnoted by anyone except him."
"He was brilliant man in spite of hailing from a clan of faded glory. They are among the lowest rungs of Lords in the Clock Tower," Bram said. "Even magi from humbler lineages look down on them," Bram added.
"Do you think that has anything to do with Idmund defecting?" Shirou asked.
"Of course not. Idmund not so petty to start a war over something so banal."
Lord El-Melloi blew more smoke then spoke bluntly.
"Why he defected doesn't matter. He's skilled, he currently has all the Department of Spirit Evocation's catalysts and he's declared war on us. All the other details can come after we've prevented the Clock Tower's destruction."
Clock Tower was the main branch of Mage's Association. Declaring war on it would be akin to painting a target on one's head. It was suicide.
Ordinarily, at least.
In Idmund Versailles case, he had gone through several arrangements to turn this act of suicide to a one-sided match in his favor. Even the Clock Tower's Lords couldn't best Servants in combat, especially the three knight classes who all wielded strong [Magic Resistance]. If Idmund managed to summon seven to fight for his cause, Clock Tower's demise could become very real.
Even worse, he made London the battlefield. He may as well as rolled tanks onto the Clock Tower's doorsteps.
"So, to sum things up: Idmund has us outnumbered in Servants, outmatched in firepower and outwitted in tactics," Lord El-Melloi concluded.
"But he no longer has the element of surprise. Also, Mister Emiya claims to know the identity of one of Idmund's Servants."
Shirou nodded again.
"His identity is Gilles de Rais. Somehow he managed to find me and Ruler, even after we left London."
"Then he must have had some way to track you... Did the Servant you and Ruler summoned manage to defeat him?"
"Uh... No. At the last second, his Master must have recalled him using a Command Seal. ...Sorry."
"Don't apologize. From what you say, your own Saber crushed Idmund's," Lord El-Melloi said. "That must mean you summoned a Heroic Spirit native to Britain, right?"
His deduction was approved with a nod from Shirou.
"Was the hero you summoned, by chance, King Arthur?"
"...No, it wasn't."
Despite having been the one to throw out the guess, El-Melloi was relieved that the King of Knights had not been summoned again. To this day, recalling her face or anything involving the fourth Holy Grail War resurfaced some traumatizing memories.
"Well, as long as a Servant got summoned, it's fine. As much as I hate to say this to someone who's really only a guest at this institution: You are the only one we can rely on."
Most would have taken El-Melloi II's words as insult - that he was belittling the third-rate magus before him. However, Shirou had been on the receiving end of such comments enough times to understand what Lord El-Melloi II was really saying: He didn't want someone who had nothing to gain from sacrificing himself for the Clock Tower to put his life on the line for it.
If he could have it his way, the Lord would have roped in instructors and freelancers to fight against Idmund. Even himself, if that was what it took. Unfortunately, their only option right now was relying on Shirou Emiya and Ruler.
"That's fine," Shirou said.
The curtness and haste of his response surprised the professors. They had suspected, at least, a bit of hesitation from him.
"As expected from a survivor of the Holy Grail War," Belfaban said, impressed.
"That's not it, director."
"Oh?"
"It just that Ruler and I are the only ones who can do it, that's all. If someone more skilled or more experienced could take my place and become Ruler's partner instead, I'd ask Ruler to give me up in heartbeat, but that's not an option. Since it's the only way to prevent the Clock Tower from being attacked, and London possibly being destroyed, I'll fight for you guys."
"...Very well. Clock Tower appreciates your assistance, Mister Emiya. We will assist you in anyway we can, and make sure you are rewarded properly after the fighting has concluded."
"We will also provide you with information regarding Idmund Versailles, and keep you updated regularly," Bram added.
Shirou nodded in thanks. The small conference having concluded, he stood and left the instructors of the Clock Tower to their business.
"Can we really rely on him? He seems eager enough to fight, but his aptitude is among the lowest of the low," Bram said.
"There's nothing we can do. It's either him or no one," said Belfaban.
"Hmm... What are your thoughts, Lord El-Melloi?"
Lord El-Melloi bore a familiar scowl after puffing smoke in the office for the umpteenth time.
"The second. While I appreciate the questionable respect of my opinion, I'd like that you try and keep the 'II' when addressing me. The title is unbearable without it."
"Excuse me. Lord El-Melloi II, what are your thoughts on Shirou Emiya?"
"...The world is a very small place."
|||~I~|||
Once again, Shirou found himself listening to Rin's voicemail. How many missed calls had he stacked between now and the night before? He even used his own phone to call her this time, but his girlfriend proved as inept with technology as always.
'Seriously, just get rid of it if you aren't going to use it, Tohsaka...'
It was the second time in a row Shirou had been out on the streets of London so late. When he returned that morning with Ruler, he spent up all the daylight sleeping like the dead. However, unlike the night before, he wasn't out idly killing time.
He found himself in the City of Westminster, one of the most important areas in one of the United Kingdom's most important cities. The Palace of Westminster, the Elizabeth Tower, Buckingham Palace - some of England's most important buildings sat in this borough. The grandest of which, Shirou approached.
Westminster Abbey, formally known as the Collegiate Church of St Peter was the structure Shirou sought out that night. After taking a moment to gaze up at its towering entrance, he knocked on its door. He received no answer, as one would expect. It was the middle the night. Plus, the abbey had recently closed while certain renovations were underway.
Yet, Shirou had been told by Belfaban himself that this was where Ruler was sent. Just as he began to question the elder's words, the monastery's doors opened.
"Shirou Emiya, I'm to presume?"
The priest who answered the door was a man of considerable height. Standing easily at seven feet, with faint scars going down one side of his face and a build that betrayed his old age, the priest came off more like a military veteran. Then again, it wasn't the first time Shirou's expectations of a priest had been betrayed.
"Uh... Are you Elijah Malbrook?"
"Ha! I prefer Father Eli, but a little formality is good too, I suppose. I suspect you're here to check up on the Holy Maiden, yes?"
"So, Ruler's here then?"
"What type of priest would I have been if I had turned away a saint? Please, come in."
The imposing-looking priest smiled as he held the door for Shirou.
Inside, Westminster Abbey proved just as impressive as Shirou had heard. Never had visited a place that could so easily serve as church as it could a museum. Statues of late saints stood upon the walls, paintings of past monarchs were hung up, there was chapel in just about every corner of the monastery's main hall, and the gothic style of the abbey resonated with the aged pieces that decorated it.
Eli urged Shirou to follow his broad figure.
"Is the Church acting as mediators again?" Shirou asked as they walked.
"This conflict doesn't really need a mediator, does it? One side obviously has no problem breaking the rules and leaving collateral damage."
"But the Holy Church is still in charge of watching the Grail?"
"Hmm... You're half-right, Shirou Emiya. May I call you Shirou?"
"Sure. And what do you mean by I'm half-right?"
"The Westminster Abbey is only technically affiliated with the Church. We are actually a separate entity from them. Normally, abbeys, cathedrals, churches and monasteries that serve the Holy Church share communion with the Pope. We do not. Our jurisdiction is under that of British monarch. We adhere to the Queen of England herself."
His mouth gaped. "The queen knows about the Holy Church and the Mage's Association?!"
"Of course. As much as Britain's history is steeped in magic and mythology, it would be stranger if she didn't know. The same goes for every member of the Royal Family."
While Shirou was extremely interested in the Royal Family's involvement with the Mage's Association, where Westminster Abbey stood within the church was a more pressing matter.
"How did the most important church in England come under the queen's jurisdiction?"
"While I would argue that St Paul's Cathedral holds more importance, to answer your question: In the mid 16th century in-fighting occurred between separate factions of the Church for possession of this very abbey. It's an extremely valuable place, you see, being so close to the Clock Tower. Near the end, when the struggle threatened to escalate to war, and even the Pope was unable to get things under control again, Queen Elizabeth I intervened. She stopped the fighting by claiming the abbey as a Royal Peculiar, excluding it from the power of any bishop."
"...Basically, she stepped in and said 'This is now my property?'"
"Essentially. Every parishioner who has belonged to the abbey since has answered only to the regent. Currently, we act as a neutral faction between the Holy Church and Clock Tower. Due to...peculiar events, Clock Tower has determined that the Holy Church cannot be trusted with the Grail's safety during this war."
"So they asked you guys, who aren't really a part of Church."
Eli gave Shirou a friendly smile of approval, or at least he tried. Shirou tried holding back the chills that ran up his spine out of respect.
As soon as Eli guided Shirou to Ruler's room, the priest departed for other business. Upon entering the chamber, Shirou noticed Ruler immediately sitting on her new bed with the Grail right beside her. It was so strange to see the thing he had engaged in a life or death free-for-all for being fiddled with so casually.
"Ruler?"
The standard-bearer looked up in surprise. "Shirou... You came."
"Yeah. The first thing I asked Belfaban was what he did with you."
"All I asked for was a safe place where I could hide the Grail. I never expected the director to find me boarding. Though, I must say...it's relaxing to sleep in a church."
Of course it would be for the Maid of Orléans. As a saint, she probably felt more at home in a house of the Lord than in the little French village she grew up in. Though, at the moment, Ruler looked less like a saint than she did a normal high school girl. Where did she get those clothes?
"Ah? These clothes? They belonged Laeticia, the girl whose body I possessed."
Of course. Shirou had forgotten the body Ruler was using belonged someone else.
"Don't worry, Shirou. Once this conflict is resolved I plan to go back to France and return Laeticia's body to her."
"...What are you going to do about her lost virginity?"
Ruler's face flared up. Apparently, she hadn't thought that far.
"A-a-anyway...! After catching some sleep, I spent the rest of the day working on the Grail."
"Working on the Grail?"
"The director already informed you about Idmund Versailles, did he not? I'm not sure how many Servants he's already summoned, or how powerful they are, but we won't stand a chance unless we summon more of our own."
"There's a bit of a problem with your plan, Ruler. I know that we really need more Servants, but I'm not sure if I have the mana to support anymore. I can barely support the one we have."
This was the biggest wrench in Ruler's plans. Shirou could fare better against a Servant than most magi, but he was still third-rate in every category save for his extremely niche specialization. Him supporting more than one Servant was impossible.
Ruler sighed. Her options kept thinning by the day. Shirou saw her trepidation and reassured her.
"Thank you, Shirou, but don't worry. I'll just have to keep thinking and find another way."
He smiled. Having finished his brief visit, he was about to leave, but a sudden thought occurred to him first.
"Hey, Ruler. ...Where's Mordred?"
|||~I~|||
Normally, Servants remained unmaterialized until battle began. And yet, there she stood in the garden of the little cloister of the Westminster Abbey. It was night, but still; a bit more discretion could have been shown.
"Mordred."
The knight turned to face Shirou as he entered the cloister. He paused for a moment after making eye-contact. They really were too similar. Actually, it went beyond that. Similar would have been between Saber and Ruler. Mordred's face was completely like her's, right down to the shade of her eyes.
Mordred - that was her identity. The Knight of Treachery and illegitimate "son" of Arthur Pendragon, who managed to bring him and the sagas of his Knights of the Round Table to ruin.
Mordred had been to King Arthur what Judas had been to Christ, and Brutus to Caesar - a villain who brought a prominent figure and his legend to a bloody end through an act of betrayal. Shirou knew her legacy well... Though, he never expected her gender to be distorted just like her "father's" had.
"You finally showed up, Master. Have you any idea how restless I've been, sitting in this blasted church all day? All Ruler did after we came here was sleep."
Shirou noticed a strange inconsistency in how Mordred addressed her separate Masters.
"Why do call Ruler by her name, but call me 'Master?'"
"Ruler suggested I do so. Though she holds my Command Seals, she claims that her duty as the Grail's standard-bearer comes before all else. That leaves you as my primary Master. Would you rather I call you Shirou?"
"No. Do whatever you feel like."
Though, it was odd how quickly Ruler surrendered all authorities as a Master. Dealing with the Grail must be taking up more of her time than he thought. She would have likely gave Shirou her Command Seals if she could.
Much like Ruler as well, Mordred was not wearing the same attire she had the previous night. Her armor was gone, replaced with some very...interesting clothing.
"Uh... Mordred. Where did you get that outfit?"
"Oh, this? That giant of a priest named Eli bought it for me when I asked him to."
"Father Eli bought you those clothes?!"
"Yes. Is something wrong with them?"
Shirou didn't know where to begin. Though, the amount of skin on display would be a good start, followed by the fact that it was the most unwholesome outfit he could think of a priest buying for someone else.
He shook his head.
"I can't believe you turned out to be a girl too..."
"...Do not say that again."
"Hmm?"
"If you call me a woman one more time, even if you are my Master... I won't be able to control myself."
Such hostility... Even Artoria didn't show such disdain for her true sex. Sensing that he was stepping into dangerous territory, Shirou wisely backed off.
"S-sorry, Mordred... I'll be more careful."
The knight calmed herself. Honestly, it was one thing for her to not want Shirou to call her woman, but she could have at least did something about her wardrobe. It certainly wasn't men's wear.
"Master, how long do you plan to keep doing that?"
"What are you talking about?"
"You keep referring to me by my true name? Isn't a large part of the Holy Grail war based around keeping your Servant's identity a secret?"
"Oh, yeah. Well... I was a participant in the last Holy Grail War, and the Servant I summoned was a Saber then too. Calling another person Saber just feels...weird."
"I see... Well, it matters little. Unlike other Heroic Spirits I have no major weakness to exploit. Not knowing my name would have just spared my opponents an extra moment of fear before I cut them down."
Such arrogance. It was unseemly for a knight, especially one from the fabled Round Table. How could someone who looked so much like Saber, be her polar opposite? How could Saber's own "son" have been the one to kill her? When Mordred revealed her identity at the abbey, Ruler had asked why she had been the one who was summoned.
- Of course I turned out to be one you summoned. Who else would appear over King Arthur's tomb than the knight who put him there? -
That was her response.
"Say, Master. What was the identity of the Servant you summoned in the last war?"
"...Why do you want to know?"
"Idle curiosity. I already know that, whomever they were, they are inferior to your new Servant, but still - won't you humor me?"
Glossing over the question would have been the best choice. Mordred would have been annoyed, but she would have gotten over it eventually. Nothing good would come from her knowing Saber's identity.
And yet...
"King Arthur - that's the Servant I fought beside in the previous Holy Grail War."
It was a malignant look if Shirou ever saw one. The blank expression in Mordred's eyes were equal parts shock and awe.
"...So, that was what the smell was."
"Huh?"
"I thought it was just my nose playing tricks, but I couldn't stop noticing. You smell just like Father's sword... [Excalibur]'s scent - you reek of it...!"
Before Shirou could even process what Mordred was saying, she materialized her sword and armor, then swung the former at Shirou's neck. There was no time for self-defense, no time for Projection. He was just dead - simple as that.
Yet, barely a centimeter from his neck, Mordred's stolen sword, [Clarent], stopped. The air near Shirou's face blew like a sudden gust, even making the grass on the ground flutter.
"Father or myself - who is stronger?" Mordred asked.
It wasn't Shirou's head Mordred was aiming for, but a comparison between her and her father's strength.
"...You're faster, but Saber was summoned in Japan, not Britain. I don't know if you'd still be the faster one if she had been summoned here."
It was honesty that could have easily cost Shirou his life. How surprised he was when Mordred lowered her sword.
"Ruler was talking earlier about how we need to summon more Servants to fight this Idmund. What nonsense! I'm the only Servant that's needed! Two-on-one, five-on-one, seven-on-one; it matters not. I'll win this Grail War single-handedly. Watch me, Master. I will put any feat my father showed you to shame!"
Mordred marched off without another word, her armor vanishing into golden specks as she exited the cloister's garden. Despite the sword not even touching him, Shirou's neck still throbbed. Being summoned in Britain had definitely augmented her strength. And now that she knew that her current Master was previously Father's previous one, she was lit up like nothing else.
It was less akin to enthusiasm, than it was to fire being lit in a dragon's belly.
"I should have just kept my mouth shut..."
After voicing his regret, Shirou left Westminster Abbey; returning to his dormitory for the night. Hopefully his neck would feel less sore when he woke up the next morning.
|||~I~|||
Pathetic. Simply pathetic. This went beyond any excuse the failure in front of them could provide.
Idmund had bestowed onto her the ultimate privilege: Being the Master of Saber. Sabers boasted all-around excellent stats, as well as [Magic Resistance] that made them nigh invincible when facing magi. In every Holy Grail War, a Saber had been among the final two Servants standing. Thus, it was no exaggeration to call them the "best class."
And yet, Idmund had allowed this lowborn magus - this disgrace - to summon Saber, against every protest Everitt Bannistor gave. Like a child being scolded, the magus in question stood before them with her head down.
"You only had one job: Retrieve the Lesser Grail and eliminate Ruler. You couldn't even accomplish something that simple," Everitt hissed.
"Saber was the one who went after-"
"Saber - Your Servant! Any failing he showed is only a reflection of how incompetent his Master is! You should have never been granted the privilege of summoning him. Even Shywood would have made a better choice than you."
"Everitt, that's enough. We can't linger on what couldn't be done. Let's just relieve ourselves in the fact that one of our Servants was not defeated before the true battle even began."
And just like that, she was forgiven - all at the charity of Idmund. Charity which was rarely ever shown, yet was regularly extended to the ex-Atlas researcher, Sialim Eltnam Re-Atlasia. Still poised in his seat, Idmund commanded Sialim to raise her head.
"I'm sorry that Saber and I failed, my Lord."
"Nonsense. You didn't manage to kill Ruler or retake the Grail, but Saber gathered some very potent information, did he not? Is it true Ruler managed to summon a Servant with the Lesser Grail?"
"Yes, my Lord."
For once, Everitt was bothered by something Sialim said, rather than Sialim herself.
"That shouldn't have been possible... Our Ruler sabotaged the Lesser Grail. There shouldn't have been a way for her to use it."
"You're wrong."
Sialim said this with cold satisfaction resounding in her words. She then continued.
"While on the run from Saber, Ruler met a magus who she later made a contract with. With him providing the mana and her holding the Command Seals, they managed to utilize the Grail. It was detail we didn't account for."
"Ruler crossing paths with a magus in London is far from strange. What this particular magus is made of is a different story, however," said Idmund. "Is it true that he managed to fight against your Saber in close-quarters, Sialim?"
"Yes, my Lord."
It was natural for Everitt to think that she had misheard something. There didn't exist a magus in London who could match a Heroic Spirit in a duel.
"Saber was never in any actual danger, of course. However, he was held up for nearly three minutes."
"And the magus he fought lived?"
Sialim nodded. "And even more surprising is the Servant Ruler and this magus managed to summon. He called himself: The disgrace of Camelot."
Everitt was in complete awe. A Knight of Round Table was summoned? Combining his fame, base stats, along with the boon he would have received for being summoned in Britain, it's no wonder Saber was beaten so handedly. In spite of this alarming news, Idmund kept his composure. Not a single strand of dark hair fell out of place, nor did his refined features betray him.
"Calm down, Everitt. One Servant, regardless of their strength, will not make a difference once we summoned the rest of our own. Sialim, have prepared for the ritual?"
"Yes, my Lord. Everything is ready for tomorrow."
"Wouldn't it be better if we did it tonight, Idmund? Now that Ruler's made a contract, she could always summon another Servant."
"Unlikely. Unlike us, she has no way to mitigate the problem of mana supplication. Unless the magus she made a contract with has an inhuman amount of mana, they won't be summoning anymore Servants anytime soon. Besides, the Black Grail won't be ready until tomorrow, anyway."
The Black Grail - the Grail Idmund had personally prepared for this war. How he acquired it and managed to trigger a new Grail War merely two years after the previous one was a mystery not even Everitt knew the answer to.
"I suspect that Ruler is with the Grail as usual?" she asked.
"But of course. It's only natural for the Grail's standard-bearer to be so overprotective of it. This is also the reason Joan of Arc will go to such dire strates to protect the Grail she possesses."
"Do you want me to try and retrieve the Lesser Grail again, my Lord?"
"No. It's likely the directors at the Clock Tower have already found a safe haven for both the Grail and Ruler. Trying to pursue either would be more trouble than we currently can be bothered with. Just focus on tomorrow's ritual."
Sialim nodded and dismissed herself, leaving Idmund alone with Everitt. Standing, he approached a window. Idmund's mansion rested on a hill that overlooked London, providing a perfect view he occasionally gazed at. He almost felt remorseful bringing war to such a beautiful city.
At the moment, his faction possessed three Servants - Saber, Rider and Berserker. The Master of Berserker had made themselves scarce afterwards, claiming that they would contact Idmund once the fighting began. He was fine with that. Their fighting strength was all he concerned with. Also, he knew that the future Masters of Lancer, Archer and Caster would all be attendance for the mass summoning that would take place tomorrow.
There was only one loose end.
"Will Tideman show up tomorrow?" Everitt asked, seeming to read his thoughts.
"Probably not. I haven't heard from him since our initial meetings."
"Do you think he'll turn traitor and give information to the Clock Tower?"
"That I know he won't do. Not out of loyalty, obviously. If he plans to forget about our cause then he'll simply do just that: Forget about us, and move on. That simple nature of his is one of the reasons he's so easy to deal with."
"I still don't like that you recruited him."
Henriette Otto von Tideman was the one person within their faction who Everitt despised more than Sialim.
"Losing him would be too big of a loss for us. The catalyst he possesses surpasses any of the ones I obtained from Clock Tower."
This fact only made Everitt hate Tideman more. How could somebody like him have gotten their hands on such a rare catalyst? She sighed, knowing all they could do was hope. Sensing their conversation was finished, Everitt headed for the door. Idmund continued gazing at his view of London - the future stage for his coup d'etat.
Very soon he would bring the Clock Tower to its knees.
