They stood and watched the mournful procession. Through the crowd Etienne noticed a face he recognised. One of the only men on horseback. A knight. It was Jean-Michele one of the friends that he had left only a few months ago. Etienne ran from the balcony and raced down the stairs of the castle. He battled his way against the tide of people streaming into the city until he reached him. Jean-Michele gave him a pained smile. For the first time Etienne saw the gruesome toils of battle. His tunic was torn and saturated with blood. He held his reins with one weak grip as his other arm had been scorched and hung from his body, lifeless. One of John-Michele’s eyes was completely closed from severe swelling, and the streams of blood from a head wound impeded vision from his other. Etienne stood beside the horse and the energy that it must have taken for his friend to ride for Avalon finally expired as he slumped from the horse into Etienne’s arms. “My friend, you are safe now,” but Etienne could see that the life was ebbing from his body. “Stay with me, don’t die,” Etienne whispered. He lifted Jean-Michele onto his shoulder and began to fight his way through the surging crowd back to the castle. Finally he made it back and ran straight into the grand hall where on the large table he laid his friend. “Get nurse and medical supplies now!” Etienne shouted at a guard. “Don’t leave me,” Etienne said to his friend but he could see it was almost too late. “Where are your brothers? Where are Nicolas and Paulo?” A tear trickled from the Jean-Michele's eye joining the line of blood that had started to fall from the corner of his mouth. His friend looked up from the table at him.
“Nicolas is dead. They killed him.” Tears were falling from Jean-Michel’s eyes now.
"And Paulo? Where is Paulo?"
“I tried," Jean-Michele coughed, urging the words from his mouth. 'I have tried all my life to protect them. I have failed.”
"Did they kill him too? Is Paulo dead?" Etienne was desperate to find out where his friend was.
"I have failed them," repeated Jean-Michel.
“Don’t think like that, don’t ever think like that. You have always protected your brother’s there was nothing you could have done.” But Etienne knew his words were useless. Jean-Michele had died the moment he had been cruelly forced from his home, and his family was murdered.
"Paulo escaped," whispered Jean-Michele. Etienne's relief was cruelly visible. "He escaped with as many women and children we could get out of the city. He was to lead them to the cathedral. It was the only place that we felt they might be able to seek sanctuary." Etienne placed his hand delicately on Jean-Michele's shoulder.
"Then I am sure he is still alive my friend."
“Etienne,” whispered Jean-Michele clutching Etienne's hand, the last remaining breathes in his body slowly escaping. “You are a great knight. Protect yourself and protect your people from this evil.” His friend coughed again as he strained to gain one last breath. “Don’t let them do to your city what they have done to mine. And please save my brother.” His head then slumped into Etienne’s cradled arms.
“No!” Etienne’s cry echoed around the great hall, his eyes full of tears. Etienne’s father came bursting through the door and slowed as he saw the solemn site of his son knelt beside his friend. The king walked up to Etienne who was still holding his friend and placed his hand on his son’s shoulder.
“I am so sorry son,” said the king.
“Father,” replied Etienne tears falling from his eyes onto his friend’s bloodied tunic. “He was a good man from a peaceful land. Why has this happened? We cannot let this happen to our people.” His father just looked at Etienne as he sat on the table with Jean-Michele’s lifeless body in his arms. The king gently lifted Jean-Michele’s head from his son and placed it on the table. He then took his son’s hand and lifted him. The king removed his robe and placed it over the young body that lay dead in front of him. Etienne turned to his father again. "I must go to the cathedral. Paulo and the surviving women and children from Allernay are hiding there."
"What?" replied the king. "Why have they gone there?"
"Jean-Michele said that it was the only place that they could think of where Chaval wouldn't find them."
"Why didn't they come here with the others? I cannot allow you to go Etienne it is too dangerous." Etienne's mind was already made up. He would leave as soon as night fell. He had to save Paulo. Etienne turned from his father without argument. "Etienne," the king grabbed Etienne's arm. Etienne turned to face his father, his eyes still red and the weight of his head to heavy for his neck bear. "Promise me you will not go to the Cathedral. I will send my best knights as soon as I have word that Chaval is no longer in the area." Etienne looked up and curtly nodded before rubbing his eye with his forefinger and turning back toward the door.
Etienne returned to the balcony. He needed to find Michel, Marcus and Luc. He looked out across the city. The last of the refugees had entered the city walls and the city gates had been shut. The swell of the population was clearly visible. Every street was now littered with bodies. The people of Allernay looked helpless, lost. They were being helped by those able; treating the infirm, comforting the grieving. At the gates to the inner walls of the castle a crowd had formed. The knights and staff of Avalon were distributing blankets and food to the hungry and tired refugees. They swarmed around the knights like honey bees vying for position to deposit their pollen. A black solid mass that moved in rhythmical waves, as each member received their rations and was spat out of the back of the horde into the streets. Etienne noticed who he had been looking for.
He made his way from the castle across the forecourt. "Michele," called Etienne. His friend turned as he gave out another of the ever depleting pile of rations. Etienne gestured for his friend to leave his post. Michele complied.
"I can not believe this has happened." said Michele when he reached Etienne, his torment visible.
"I know my friend," replied Etienne.
"What is it Etienne? How is Jean-Michele. I saw you take him into the castle."
"He is dead." Etienne looked at the floor and rubbed a patch of dry blood which may have been his friend's into the dirt. Michele dropped to his knees and sat, shaking his head and looking to the sky. Etienne bent down next to him, and looked him directly in eyes. "Now is not the time to grieve Michele," He put his hand around the back of Michele's neck. "Paolo and some of the women and children from Allernay may still be alive." Jean-Michele jumped up, "Where? Let's go and get them."
"My father has forbid me leaving the city and I am sure he will not allow you either."
"But," interjected Michele.
"Michele, we shall go anyway," said Etienne. "Jean-Michele told me before he died that, before the city was overthrown, his brother had led some of the woman and children to the cathedral in search of sanctuary."
"We need to go and help him Etienne."
"We will. Meet me outside the city walls after sundown. Bring your brothers. We will ride to the cathedral and bring them back."
With haste the night came allowing Etienne's leave. Successfully he had avoided his father for the remainder of the day in order to avoid inquisition. He now sat on his horse outside the castle walls waiting for his friends. The guards of the city gates had been preoccupied with the sudden influx of people to take any notice of Etienne's request to open them. He was shortly joined with Michele, Marcus and Luc. "I am glad that you have come my friends," Etienne said, greeting his three comrades. "We have already wasted much time. If we ride hard and fast we should be able to make the cathedral by midday tomorrow." Without another word they rode.
As planned they reached the cathedral when the sun filled the sky above them.
"What is that?" shouted Marcus pointing to plume of smoke in the distance, but Etienne had already seen it, and fear gripped him. His worse fears were realised. They went over the last hill before the cathedral and it was clear. The cathedral was ablaze. Chaval had found them.
"No!" screamed Etienne, and kicked his horse. He rode to the cathedral, the sweat of his horse flicking from its main. The heat from the cathedral grew stronger as Etienne drew nearer. He dismounted and ran the last for fear of his horse's safety. He frantically looked for a way in. They were burning inside. He needed to get in. There was a small entrance to the naive at the rear. Etienne knew it as he had worked on it only a few months ago. He ran around the side of the cathedral. Flames lapped out of the windows, leaving their charged marks on the cathedral, his cathedral, branding the building, selfishly claiming the building for itself. He reached the small door he was looking for. Its stone facade held back the fire. He ran at the door, his shoulder leading and smashed it open. The oxygen fueled the fire and the cathedral spat great flames out of the broken doorway like a taunted dragon. Etienne flew back, then got to his feet and ran to make his way in.
"Stop!" Luc shouted as he tackled Etienne to the ground.
"Let me go," Etienne struggled to free himself, to grapple his way back into the cathedral, but he knew it was too late. Whatever was in the cathedral could not withstand the inferno. "Let me go, they are in there."
Luc took Etienne's face in his hand and forced him to look in his eyes. "It's too late, Etienne they are gone."
"They can't be. I told John-Michele."
"Etienne it is too late." repeated Luc. His brothers were stood beside him watching the fire take its victim. The four could not move, the fire hypnotic, a trance like state descended. It wasn't until the voice of young boy was heard that they became lucid again. Faint at first, but clearly audible.
"Etienne," the four looked at each other as if for confirmation. "Etienne." Etienne jumped up and turned to face the wood that flanked the cathedral. Slowly faces appeared. It was hard for Etienne to make out at first but as the smoke cleared from his eyes he could see. Children. Then women. Appearing one by one from their arboreal hide out. Love, relief, blissful happiness filled his body. Taking him and lifting his feet from the ground. The children started running in his direction. Arms spread, welcoming their saviour. Etienne noticed from where the call had come. Paolo appeared. Heavily bloodied but walking. Etienne dropped to his knees and allowed the children to swarm him.