Stato D'Arresto
By: James Austin Valiant
"...eleven, twelve, thirteen," The priest counted.
Esther sighed, pressing her palm to her face. "Really, Father Nightroad, must you count each sugar cube?"
Abel grinned widely. "But of course, Miss Esther. Each little cube should be accounted for, before they take the plunge in becoming the most delicious part of my day."
The redhead nun sipped her own tea, content with two sugars. She actually enjoyed his bumbling behavior at breakfast most of the time. After the solemn manner of morning prayer, his humor was a welcome change.
"Can I get you a bowl of porridge, Father?"
"Oh please, Sister Esther, I'll get some for the both us." He began to stand up.
The nun's gloved hand firmly grasped his shoulder, keeping him in his seat.
"Really, Father. I insist."
"Fine, but just this once," Abel relented. He never wanted to make her feel like she had to serve him. Father Nightroad had witnessed plenty of priests treat nuns no better than servants, just because of a silly ranking system. Esther was every bit as equal to him as Tres or Leon. Well, maybe not Leon…
The priest placed his chin in his hands, elbows propped up on the table. The cafeteria line got his attention, and he scanned over the various clergy and staff. They were all dressed in simple robes or cassocks and Abel took great pleasure in their familiarity. He noticed Esther, standing in line, making small talk with another nun.
She makes friends so easily! I was worried for her at first, because she was so shy when I first brought her here, but now she's a regular social butterfly! Esther turned around to claim the hot cereal. And really, not a bad behind on that girl either! EEP! Gotta remember that one for confession!
The young nun returned with two steaming bowls of porridge, placing one down in front of Father Nightroad.
"Thank you, Sister Esther," He picked up his spoon, "shall we say grace?"
"Of course! How rude it would be not to! Bishop Laura always told us that if you eat without saying grace, you're basically a thief," Esther explained. She extended her small hands across the table.
Abel clasped them readily. His large hands almost enveloped her small ones. "Bless us, O Lord, and these your gifts which we are about to receive from your bounty, through Christ our Lord. Amen."
"Amen," repeated the nun, and picked up her spoon. She swirled it around in her porridge before scooping a spoonful to her mouth.
Abel followed her routine, doing his best not to draw attention to his eating habits. He politely brought his first spoonful to his mouth, and savored the soupy gruel.
"Father Abel Nightroad. Sister Esther Blanchett."
Tres' voice rang suddenly above their heads.
"Yes, Father Tres?"
"Please accompany me to Cardinal Sforza's office. There has been an incident."
The door to Caterina's office was slightly ajar. Tres pushed it, and the three of them entered the room. Father Leon, the Professor, Sister Kate and of course Cardinal Sforza were already present.
Esther noticed that there was a despicable sort of silence about the room. Everyone was hushed and mumbling words in whispers. Even the Professor's normally jovial nature was subdued. They seemed distraught and sad about something. Esther's gaze then fell on Caterina. The proud, confident cardinal had shed her brilliant red miter, her normally well-styled hair lay flat on her shoulders, and her eyes were red and puffy.
"What is going on here?" questioned Abel.
"Father Nightroad, it's not easy to explain," began Father Leon, "there's been an attack."
"What sort of attack?" He aimed his question specifically towards the cardinal.
"My brother, Abel...the Pope has been attacked."
"His Holiness, attacked! Here, in the Vatican? This makes no sense!" Abel's shock turned into scattered, tumbling words.
"How was His Holiness attacked without the knowledge of his guard? What are the current whereabouts of Brother Petros?" Tres's questions were grounded in logic.
"We don't know, Tres - the security systems to the papal apartments were disabled, and the guard, even Brother Petros and Monsignor Vicci, claimed to have heard nothing. They're both in questioning right now." answered the Professor.
"But where is the Pope?" Esther feared for the frail pontiff. "Is he going to be all right?"
"He is currently under the care of the best medical staff available. But Pope Alessandro is in very critical condition...the doctors say he is very lucky to be alive. A few more hours alone and he would have died, alone in his bedroom." The Professor responded, appearing a pale shade of gray.
Fresh tears occupied Caterina's eyes, and her loud sobbing filled the room. Abel rushed past the other AX agents, sweeping around the massive desk and coming to the cardinal's side. Kneeling down, he placed his hands on hers.
"Caterina...Caterina...we will find who did this to him."
"You don't understand, Abel…" Caterina's words were choked by her sobs, "...he is my brother...I couldn't protect him...I couldn't save him…"
"I know, Caterina, I know," He drew her hands close to his chest, and she looked up at his eyes. The same kind eyes that she had seen all those years ago, the eyes that brought her comfort and made her feel safe.
"We'll find who did this."
"It is already known!"
The booming voice of Francesco echoed off the walls of Caterina's office, and the AX team respectfully allowed him to pass by. He did not acknowledge any of them, and marched straight in front of his half-sister and her silver haired agent.
"This," Francesco spat, "was found upon a more intensive search of His Holiness's bed chambers."
He tossed a small scrap of rough, brown cloth on the desk. Abel recognized the imprinting on it, but couldn't place it. Strange, I feel like I only just saw this yester- It dawned on him. The symbol on the scrap was clearly the seal of the Order of Saint Sebastian. That means that the man responsible for this attack is none other than…
"Brother Desmond is the one who attacked His Holiness!" Francesco's fury climbed, "and while that monster of a monk is mainly responsible, it is YOU, Caterina, who holds the true blame! You pushed for the Pope to open dialogue with that scum and his wretched Order! Heal old wounds? How about healing his wounds? What were you thinking?"
Francesco turned his attention towards the other members of AX, and concentrated on Esther.
"You! You were the one who brought him here! You are just as guilty of this as Caterina!" Cardinal Francesco's bright red face was mere inches away from Esther.
"But...but...Your Eminence…" Esther could easily see how the Pope was so timid, "I was doing my duty."
"TO HELL WITH YOUR DUTY! That man is a menace and has injured the Pope!"
"JUST STOP IT!"
Francesco's anger was interrupted by brief surprise, as Father Nightroad suddenly towered above him.
"You listen here, Cardinal - no one here is to blame. Standing around here, playing the blame game is not going to get the Pope better, and it certainly brings us no closer to bringing Brother Desmond to justice. YOUR SISTER AND ESTHER DO NOT DESERVE THIS TREATMENT FROM YOU!" Abel realized he was screaming. Francesco appeared smaller having been put in his place.
Did Father Nightroad just stand up to the second most powerful man in the Vatican and defend *me*? Esther's thoughts were racing.
The proud Cardinal quickly regained his composure. "Yes, Brother Desmond must be arrested and brought to justice!"
"Leon and Abel, arrest Brother Desmond," came the weak but still dominant voice of Caterina, "Professor, you go with them. I want you to form a report on his condition. Father Tres, I am entrusting you with guarding Brother Desmond. Do not let him out of a cell for any reason, and disregard any order that would have you do anything contrary. You have your orders."
The four priests rushed out of the room without words.
Brother Desmond opened his eyes, slowly bringing himself out of slumber. He looked out the small opening of his room that served as a window. The bright sun seemed to be waning. It must have been at least two hours after morning prayer. It was odd for Desmond to sleep past five o'clock in the morning. He liked to be up and ready for morning prayer as soon as it began.
The monk yawned and sat up in his bed. He stretched, feeling unusually sore muscles in every part of his body. This was also odd; ever since the initial work that came with joining the Order, he hadn't had a sore muscle. Maybe it was just the stress of the situation.
He wondered how long he had until his audience with the Pope and Cardinal Sforza. Perhaps he might have time to walk around, even see the Vatican Museum…
"Brother Ian Desmond!"
The monk looked up to see Father Nightroad and three other priests he didn't recognize inside his room and aiming guns at him.
"Father Nightroad? What is the meaning of this?"
"You are under arrest for the severe assault and battering of His Holiness, Pope Alessandro XVIII. Put your hands where they can be seen." Father Tres said.
"This is ridiculous!"
"Hands where they can be seen, ya whacko!" Father Leon chimed in, wielding a pair of handcuffs.
"I most certainly did no such thing!" Desmond raised his arms straight into the air, just in case someone's trigger finger got itchy.
A strange series of dark markings were present on the monk's hands and upper arms, as well as on his chest and down his torso. He squinted and look closer. They were dried and spotty, mostly a deep reddish brown.
"No...it can't be...blood…" Brother Desmond rose from his bed in horror, right in to the waiting handcuffs of the AX agents.
