Chapter 5: Angry Mob

Trevor sat in the dark and waited as the door was hacked down by an angry mob led by what he was increasingly sure was fake priests.

The priests walked in after they got the civilians to beat the door in.

'Where are the Speakers?'

'I've put them somewhere safe,' Trevor said.

'You defend evil,' the priest said. 'Give them to us!'

There was a rumble outside.

'Shut up,' Trevor said.

The priest moved forward to try to get in his face. 'What?'

'Shut up.' Trevor said it louder this time. He looked him right in the eye. 'You're not getting the Speakers. You're getting no blood today so shut-up.'

The priest slapped him. 'You will give us the Speakers so that we can save this city.'

'This city's lost,' Trevor stated. 'It was lost when you and the rest of your scum moved in.'

The priest slapped him again. 'And, what?' He stormed off. 'You are here to fight us? You're here to convince the people that nomad black magicians are good for Gresit, and it is the presence of the Men of God that brought the night hordes upon us?'

'You know—' Trevor began.

'Silence!' the priest cut him off. 'Look at you! You're a wreck! You stink! You can barely keep your eyes open! What do you expect to achieve against us?'

Trevor smirked. 'Absolutely nothing.'

'So you're going to die for nothing?' the priest asked. 'For people you don't know?'

'I don't know any of you.' Trevor turned his back and stepped away. 'But that doesn't matter, does it? My family, the family you demonised and excommunicated, has fought and died through generations for this country. We do this thing for Wallachia, and her people. We don't have to know you all. We do it anyway. It is not the dying that frightens us.' He dropped his cloak, letting the Belmont crest emblazoned on his back be seen, 'It's never having stood up and fought for you.' He turned back around. 'I am Trevor Belmont, of the House of Belmont, and dying has never frightened me.'

'Good.' The priest drew his knife and the other priests around him got ready to attack. They began to advance on him.

Trevor waited and then dropped to his knee as he tossed his several daggers out. All of the subordinate priests were hit. Trevor charged forward and tackled the front one. As he shoved him out the door, he grabbed a piece of rope and brought the whole entrance to the hut caving in. Pinning him to the ground, Trevor looked up. The man was stunned, but there was an angry mob to deal with now.

Good thing that was one of the first things Yvette ever taught him.

The mob began to advance but one of them was carrying a hand axe. Trevor's eyes narrowed and he seized his whip. With a quick snap of leather, he snatched the weapon out of the unprepared civilian's hand. He caught the handaxe in his other hand, spun in a circle and threw the handaxe. The weapon flew overhead in a wide arc and hit the rope holding up the nearby crucifix.

The mob scattered to avoid getting hit.

The mob froze in shock. Trevor took the opportunity to run, snatching a torch as he went. The townsfolk gave chase. That was okay. Trevor would lead them through the city, so long as they went nowhere near the Speakers. Trevor ran through small alleyways and streets. At one point his way was blocked by a small group. He bounded off the street wall, planted his boot in the face of one of the men, and bounded back before dropping the torch and starting a fire.

Trevor's next obstacle came in the form of a priest firing arrows at him. He ducked behind a building and quickly looked out, seeking an escape from yet another two priests coming after him. But then the priest he'd gotten the eye out of landed, a sharp blade in hand, and came at him. That couldn't be more perfect if it was scripted.

Trevor wrapped his hand around his short sword. The priest charged. Trevor drew and deflected the blow. He then parried him into position before jumping behind him and using him as a very convenient human shield. The first arrow went into the one-eyed priest's shoulder, and the second into his other eye. He threw the man down and went after the other two. He disarmed one – quite literally – and then stabbed the second through the head as he snatched his spear and launched it at the archer.

The archer priest gave a strangled yell as he went down.

Trevor took a moment to catch his breath, before running off.

Only to find the bulk of the mob.

Not good, Trevor thought as someone yelled, 'There he is!'

Trevor turned on his heel and ran again.

'The best way to disperse a mob is to make them stop,' Yvette's voice rang in his head. 'These people have been riled up. They're angry, they're violent, and they're not thinking. You make them stop and the haze will wear off. They'll begin to think again. That's when you start pulling the arguments apart. You start encouraging the thinking.'

Problem was he couldn't think of a single way to stop them.

The Bishop stood on the pulpit with his head bowed, listening to the angry mob outside with a sense of appreciation.

He smirked as he heard the door to the church open. He lifted his head, though, and the smirk fell away. He couldn't see who'd just entered. 'Who's that?' he called. 'Are the Speakers dead?'

A deep and gravelly voice answered him. 'No.'

The Bishop clenched a fist. 'Well, get back out there! The Speakers have to die before the sun goes down.'

'The sun is already down.' At that instant, the Bishop watched in disbelief as a demon stepped forward, six glowing blue eyes and a mouthful of glowing blue fangs illuminating it first. It was covered in fur and spikes were growing out of its back.

The Bishop became aware of growling as he stepped back from the demon, and he quickly looked around. There were demons everywhere. They had completely surrounded him. He looked around frantically as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing. This didn't make any sense. His entire body shook and he clutched a rosary.

'You…' he managed, 'cannot enter the House of God.'

The only demon that seemed capable of speech gave a short growl. 'God is not here. This is an empty box.'

The demons got uncomfortably close and the Bishop quickly glanced around before focusing on the demon in front of him. 'God is in all His churches.'

'Your God's Love is not unconditional,' the demon said. 'He does not love us, and He does not love you.'

'I have done His bidding!' The Bishops's eyes narrowed. 'My life's work…is in His Name!'

'Your life's work makes Him puke,' the demon calmly announced.

He suddenly saw Belmont's disbelieving face in his mind's eye. 'My God. You really believe it, don't you?'

'I…am the Bishop of Gresit!' the Bishop insisted.

'Your God knows that we wouldn't be here without you.' The demon's hackles rose and its spikes seemed to grow. 'This is all your fault, isn't it?'

Once again, Belmont's words came to haunt him. 'You were the one responsible for burning Lisa Tepes of Lupu, weren't you? …Seems the old lady didn't buy your "witch" story.'

'She was a witch…!' he insisted, to the apparition; to the demon; to God.

'Lies?' the demon asked. 'In your House of God? No wonder he has abandoned you. But we love you.'

Ice-cold fear gripped the Bishop's heart. '…What?'

'We love you.' The Bishop was frozen in place as the demon climbed up onto the pulpit. 'We couldn't be here without you.'

As the demon reached out and took his head in its claws, the Bishop began to whimper in fear.

'Let me…kiss you…'

And the last thing the Bishop of Gresit saw was those glowing blue fangs coming at him.

Trevor ran through the streets.

The hair on the back of his neck was standing on end. It wasn't the mob, though. The sun was down and the night horde was here. He had to find a way to stop the mob before the horde attacked. Otherwise, he'd have to wait until they actually did attack before he could do anything about it.

Unfortunately, there was only one of him. He came to the town square, he found several members of the mob already there. He took the moment to catch his breath as he looked around at all of them. It was looking more and more like the only way he was going to get out of this was if the horde came swooping down. Trevor huffed and straightened up as the mob began to advance on him.

Then something totally unexpected happened.

A ring of fire suddenly surrounded him, cutting the mob off from him and protecting him. Trevor quickly lifted an arm against the heat. Ignoring the mob crying out in alarm and fear, he looked up and around – seeking out the source. He found himself surprised, impressed, and maybe a touch appreciative.

(Okay, maybe a bit aroused.)

Sypha was standing on a building, magic glowing on the ends of her fingertips as she controlled the flames.

One of the thug-priests spotted her too. 'Witch!' he pointed accussingly at her with his sword.

'No!' she fiercely declared. 'I am a Speaker, and a scholar of magic. I serve no demon and I do no evil!'

Shit, that was fantastic, Trevor mused as the glow of magic turned blue and brushed over the mob, forcing them to a standstill. The glow went back to red and with a grunt of effort, she created a path for him. Trevor smiled and headed in her direction. 'You never told me you were a magician,' he called up to her.

'You never asked,' she retorted.

Point taken. 'Though I guess I now understand why it was you who went down into the catacombs to look for your sleeping god.' He'd thought it was odd when he'd realised she was a woman. Generally, only the women like Yvette were sent into those places – otherwise it was a group of men. And women like Yvette wouldn't get hit. 'What are you doing here?'

Her eyes narrowed. 'I didn't ask you to fight for me. I fight for myself.'

'Fine.' In fact that was more than fine. There was an old saying: Belmonts don't carry dead weight. So, if one of the Speakers could actually defend themselves, who was he to complain? But there was one thing he would complain about. He caught sight of the priest in question and turned his head. It was his turned to point accusingly. 'You!'