Although it lasted longer than most cities,

  Longton fell to the demonic scourge like all the others.

  -From the histories of Objus the Limp, Renegade Historian

  Epilogue

  Prince Bishop Laurence Dorein forced open the bottle of wine that sat before him on the great table of the tower’s food hall, the loud pop echoing throughout the large and empty space. While filling his cup to the brim, he looked up to the large tapestry that hung above the entrance, on which was depicted a full body image of his God-Emperor Qarthus: a large man adorned in regal robes, his head a sun with a single eye in its middle. A bit of guilt bit at him as he finished pouring, the remaining scars of seminary training where he was taught the making of wine, but always forbidden from indulging in it save for in moderation.

  But as he emptied his cup and filled it once more, that all washed away with the daze of spirits. And if Qarthus had any problem with it, he should perhaps show his ass to guard his empire before castigating anyone for imbibing every once in a while.

  Laurence lifted his cup towards the tapestry for a toast, hoping the God-Emperor could see him through it. Hoping he was seething with anger.

  And even if he was, the Prince Bishop deserved the respite of drunkenness, especially after the events of two weeks ago. Not only was his city put on the verge of starvation by the demons outside, but it was also gripped with fear by those within, the murders reaching a sanguine crescendo with the slaughter of over half a hundred guards and demon hunters, before climaxing with the Ripper’s death and reveal of her true identity.

  But worst of all was the unexpected arrival of not just a Sineater, but also the traitor Laurian Cain. He could still feel the remnants of fear that man had put in him. That crazed stare and hellish fire. And worse still, the madman had allied himself with a Yorrie witch.

  And now, because he had to do his holy duty and report the incident, he would house another of that damnable order. He only wished she would announce her time of arrival.

  “You should amend your security,” a woman said from behind him.

  Startled, Laurence swallowed too quick, then spat out the wine onto his once pristine white tablecloth. He looked to where she stood and found no one. “Who in the–” he coughed like he was on the verge of dying.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Allow me to introduce myself.” The woman, now standing atop his dinner table, bowed. Not that she needed introducing. He had seen her before in the capital, her black garb consisting of leather boots, padded gambeson that reached down her thighs, over which she wore a steel breastplate, the sun-eye of Qarthus emblazoned in white at its top, marking her as a Sineater. And even without all that, the single dark grey gauntlet on her left arm would make her rank clear to most clergy members. Though hers differed from all the rest, as on its back was a cylindrical tube which reached past the gauntlet’s knuckles, out of which all kinds of horrors could spew out. “Antonia of the Sineaters.” Her short black hair swayed back as she raised her head, revealing a pale face with features unfamiliar to most this far north in the Empire, her peculiar eyes bearing the look of one from that far eastern diaspora.

  “Pleased to meet you,” he said, hiding none of his displeasure. “Prince Bishop Laurence Dorein. You know, you could have knocked.”

  Antonia jumped off the table and took slow steps towards him. “I have little time for long welcomes and feasts. It has taken me too long to get here, so there is no time to waste. All I want is a description of how he looked, and your confirmation that it was really him.”

  “Could be no one else. He bore the gauntlet of your order, from which he spewed out flames. He would be hard to miss as well, carrying that ridiculous blade of his. A saber, I think, curved and long and thick. Near as long as the man himself. Doubt anyone besides your lot could carry such a thing.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yeah. Man wears dark leather with a long cape. And he has a wide brimmed hat on most of the time. Don’t remember if he had a beard the last time you saw him, but he cultivates one now. Oh, and he has a Yorrie travelling with him as well. A Yorrie witch no less.”

  The Sineater raised an eyebrow at that. “He has fallen that far?”

  Laurence filled his cup and raised it while nodding. “Before you go, I have urgent matters to discuss. My city is on the verge of collapse. Demons assail us outside and within. Harvests have been lessened, and most food imports are intercepted before arriving here. My forces are already stretched thin as it is, and I’ve had trouble bolstering them with demon hunters, as my coffers cannot keep them employed for much longer. I know the forces of the Empire are at their wits’ end, but if you could arrange for…let’s say a large garrison, and perhaps have them arrive with fresh provisions?”

  Antonia walked to the exit. “You will get nothing but silence from the capital with such a request. As for the demons, I doubt there are many left now.”

  Laurence furrowed his brow. “What?”

  “I killed a great many before arriving here. Got a few possessors within the city as well. Should be peaceful for some time now.”

  His heart skipped a beat at that. It had taken the sacrifice of half his troops to quell most of the demonic host assailing Longton, though that still left over a thousand stragglers. But that woman…that monster had exterminated all of them by her lonesome, and cut down the ones hidden behind his walls. He felt a mixture of relief and fresh terror at the reminder of just how powerful one Sineater was.

  And when Antonia exited the hall, his heart stilled, not just due to her absence, but also at the knowledge that Laurian Cain would be dealt with. Though he envied not whoever was close to their upcoming duel, as such a battle was sure to leave its mark.

  That much, and the traitor’s demise, was certain.