The Devil in Green (8 page)

Mallory tore a chunk off the bread and inspected it cautiously before
chewing. 'They're worse off than I imagined.'

'What do you mean?'

'All that graffiti on the walls
-
looks as if they've had a falling out with
the locals. And the walls themselves, what message are they sending
out?'

Miller wasn't going to be deterred. 'Still, it's great to be here, finally,' he
said with a blissful smile.

'You really are a glass-half-full kind of person, aren't you.' Mallory spun
one of the chairs and straddled it. 'They'd better not bury us in rules and
regulations. You know how it is with God people. Thou shalt not do this,
thou shalt not do that. Bottom line for me: no vows of celibacy, no
abstinence from the demon drink.'

'We might not get accepted.'

'Right,' Mallory said sarcastically. 'We're going to get accepted.'

'How can you be sure? They might think we're not . . . devout enough.
We're supposed to be champions of God's Word.'

'So what does God want? That His Word gets out there. Do you think
He really cares if it's being transmitted by some cynical money-grabbing
toe-rag who doesn't believe one syllable of it?'

'Of course it matters!' Miller stared at Mallory in disbelief.

'Why? The job's still getting done. People are still being led away from
the dark side to the Path of Righteousness. Or is it more ideologically pure
if the unbeliever doesn't do it and they all stay damned?'

'It . . . matters!' Miller looked as if he was about to burst into tears
again. Mallory's weary attempt to backtrack was interrupted when the
door swung open, revealing a man in his late forties, balding on top, but
with long, bushy grey hair. He carried with him an air of tranquillity
underpinned by a good-natured, open attitude visible in his untroubled
smile. He wore the long black robes of a monk.

'My name is James,' he said. 'I realise things may seem strange to you
here. It's strange for all of us.'

'We want to be knights,' Miller said firmly.

'It's my job to greet the new arrivals,' James continued. 'Help them
adjust to the very different life we have here, facilitate an easy transition
from the world without to the one we are attempting to build here in the
cathedral precinct.'

'So you're the official counsellor,' Mallory said.

James didn't appear troubled by the less than deferential tone. 'I
suppose that's one way of describing my work.' The cast of his smile
suggested he knew exactly what game Mallory was playing. 'Come, walk
with me and I'll show you the sights, introduce you to a few people. And
I'll explain why things are the way they are.'

'Getting your apologies in first?' Mallory said.

'I think it's true to say things are probably not how you expected them,
how we all expected them to be. But everyone is still coming to terms with
the Fall.' The euphemism for the chaos that had descended on the world
made Mallory smile. James continued, 'It has necessitated a particular
approach which may be . .
.
surprising at first impression.'

Mallory gestured for him to lead the way. 'I love surprises.'

James took them into the cathedral nave, crossing himself briefly as he
faced the altar. Inside, the building was even bigger than Mallory had
imagined. The magnificent vaulted roof soared so high over their heads it
made them dizzy when they looked up, dwarfing them beneath the majesty
of God as the original architects had intended. Further down the quire, a
few men knelt in silent prayer.

'It will be packed at vespers,' James noted with a sweep of his hand from
wall to wall.

'I haven't seen any women since I came in,' Mallory said.

'No.' James appeared uncomfortable at this observation, but he didn't
give Mallory time to follow up. 'This is the last outpost of Christianity, at
least in Great Britain. Within this compound you will find Anglicans,
Catholics, Methodists, High Church, Low Church, representatives of the
fringe evangelical movements, all worshipping side by side in a manner
that could never have been anticipated at a time when the Church was
thriving. Then, there were too many rivalries. Now we are all forced to
work together for the common good.' He smiled benignly at Mallory. 'I'm
sure there is a lesson in there somewhere.'

'The last outpost?' Miller appeared to be hearing James' words in a
time-delay.

'What happened over the past year and a half shattered the Church.'
James led them slowly along the nave. 'Even in our darkest moment we
could never have foreseen .
.
.'He shook his head dismally.

'It obviously wasn't as strong as you thought,' Mallory said.

'The Church remains as indefatigable as always,' James parried.

'Then perhaps the people didn't live up to your expectations.'

James thought about this for a moment, but did not deny it. 'With
miracles happening on every street corner all day every day, with gods . . .
things that call themselves gods
. . .
answering the calls of anyone who
petitioned them, it was understandable that there would be a period of
confusion.'

Miller turned in a slow circle, dumbfounded. 'This is all that's left?'

'The congregations fragmented. Yes, some became more devout
because of the upheaval they witnessed, but many lost their way.' He
took a second or two to choose his words, but could find no easy way to
say it. 'Including many of our ministers.'

The sun gleamed through the stained-glass windows, but without any
electric lights to illuminate the loftier regions there was still an atmosphere
of gloom.

'With the lines of communication shattered, the situation rapidly
became untenable,' James continued. 'Belief was withering on the vine.
The leaders . . . the remaining
leaders
...
of the various churches held an
emergency conference, a crisis meeting, at Winchester.' He had led them
to the Trinity Chapel where the window glowed in blues and reds in the
morning sun. Slender pillars of marble rose up on either side to support a
daringly designed roof of sharply pointed arches. 'It was decided that a
period of retrenchment was necessary. The Church would fortress itself if
necessary, re-establish its strength before taking the Word back out to the
country.'

Mallory examined the images on the windows. The design was called
Prisoners of Conscience.
'You really think you can do it?'

'If faith is undiminished, anything can be achieved.' James watched him
carefully. 'And why are you here?'

Mallory didn't look at him. 'Food, shelter. Security.'

'Is that what you believe?'

'You
are
looking for knights?' Miller ventured hopefully.

James turned to him with a pleasant aspect. 'At the same Council of