Free Heaven's Gate by Toby Bennett

similarity becomes apparent when the leader of the small band steps into the light. The dark blue coat is old but well cared for and the three crucifixes adorning the breast are obviously polished daily along with his boots. Even if he had not had these trappings there is no mistaking the carriage of a veteran Crusader. The man had not stolen the sergeant’s coat, he had earned it in one or other of the great battles and slaughters before the Citadel. He might even have stood on the plain of Golifany, more than three quarters of Leedon’s men had been gathered there. Then again it was just as likely that the sergeant and the rough ol ’ boys behind him had never bothered to leave their hunting grounds amongst Limit’s wealthier citizens. After all, no wall could hold back the Crusade, certainly not when it was at its height. Blake did not doubt that there was a large chapter of Crusaders in the city, he should have guessed it when he saw the size of the cathedral spires; he knew what he would be asked, even before the sergeant phrased his demand.
     
    “My associate gave you greeting, brother.” The sergeant stands at a distance that put him out of reach of the horse’s hooves or bite.
    “Naturally I would have stopped had I known him to be on Church business, brother but it is not often that I am accosted by men of God on the street at night.”
    “All times are right to do his work and darkness must be put to what uses it can before the light of his word illuminates us all.” The sergeant responds quoting the passage word for word from the Crusader bible.
    “Indeed, brother, so what use has darkness in your endeavour this evening? I would ask you to be quick in your explanation, for I must catch the train.”
    “He’s got a damned nerve!” One of the men behind the sergeant growls
    “Hush up, Mel.” Another hisses back.
    “Since you’re in a hurry I’ll state things plain,” the sergeant ignores the men’s whispered interchange, “my brothers and I were wondering if you wished to pay a tithe to the Church and her soldiers, who keep us all safe and warm in our work on dark nights?”
    “How much money does your good work require?”
    “One or two silver marks would usually do but a man who can afford to take his horse on the train…” the sergeant opens his hands expansively, “surely he can afford more and if not we could always save you the bother of having to find a buyer for your horse.”
     
    Blake’s eyes narrow at this, a bribe or a tithe he had expected but this was more. Obviously the sergeant had gone beyond even the liberties allowed him by the Chapter House. Blake doubted that the men here planned for their masters to even see a penny of their gains from this night. It was only to be expected, teach men even the beginnings of corruption and they will quickly become masters on their own.
    “Any coin I have left after I have purchased my passage and that of my horse I will happily give to the Church but my business is pressing and my horse is not something I will willingly part with, besides what would you want with such an ill tempered animal?” Blake looks significantly at the man still nursing his injured hand.
     
    “I suggest you reconsider that, friend. Travel on the train’s roof is free, if you see your way clear to fulfilling your obligations to mother Church and the Christ man then you might yet make your journey. It is a poor Christian who would put his needs before the needs of the Church, so I feel that we must make an example for others, what say you?”
     
    Murmurs of agreement greet this pious proposition from the Crusader’s followers. Blake cannot bring himself to number the other thugs as Crusaders, though no doubt some still laid claim to the blue. That such opportunist scum had fought next to him at Golifany was unthinkable. Even after an unnaturally long life, he was still unable to accept the rot at the heart of an ideal he had once killed and strived for.