Grinning, the warrior brought his blade down to cleave Richard in two. The knight sidestepped. As he did so, the warrior overextended his efforts and was caught off balance.
Gritting his teeth, Richard smashed the head of the Dark Thorn across the left cheek of his attacker.
The warrior crumbled like a puppet cut from its strings.
The first soldier was back, sword in hand.
“Don’t make me kill you!” Richard thundered.
Knowing he was no longer protected by the power of the Grail, fear entered the man’s eyes. Richard feinted at him. The Templar Knight fled the room then, knowing he was bested before he even began.
Richard turned to discover the power in the room had shifted.
Arawn had overcome Clement.
The fey lord held the Pope against him like a shield, the edge of his dagger lying against Clement’s wrinkled neck. The polished sword of the Pope now lay on the ground. Richard didn’t know how to proceed. As he lowered the flame about the Dark Thorn to a halo, he walked slowly to stand nearer the three other men.
“Let me pass into the Vault,” Arawn asserted, squeezing Clement by the throat.
The Cardinal Vicar did not move, his sword at the ready.
“Richard McAllister, we hate the same hypocrisy,” Arawn said smoothly. “You do not let the Church command you. Nor do I. It is for the Tuatha de Dannan I do this. When Plantagenet had his lackey trick me, I thought my time over. The man who owned this body took my life. I was imprisoned for long decades before my spirit eroded that of John Lewis Hugo and his body became my own. Encouraging Plantagenet to reclaim his birthright was my first step against the very Church that drove us from the Misty Isles.
“You and I hate the same thing.”
“But you are Tuatha de Dannan!” Richard shot back. “You sent that cait sith to his death into Seattle! You kill your own kin in Annwn even as we speak!”
“I did not bring them to this fight, knight!” Arawn seethed. “I do not wish their demise any more than you do. By the time I gained control of this flesh Plantagenet had built a large army and it was too late for me to aid my brethren. I use him as he used me, to keep my own safe. Help me regain balance!”
“I will not give into your wishes, Arawn!” the Pope growled. “The secrets and power beyond that wall will avail you nothing!”
“We will see. It is up to you, Cardinal Vicar. Let die your Pope?”
“Do not give in, Cormac,” Clement insisted.
Arawn snarled, looking back and forth between the Cardinal Vicar and Richard. The knight could see the struggle within Cormac. It matched his own. To give into Arawn’s demands meant giving him power; to not give in meant the death of the Pope.
Clement had no such hesitation.
“It is to you now, Cormac Pell O’Connor.”
Clement twisted hard from Arawn, breaking the grip, even as a dagger appeared in his hand from the folds of his robes. The fey lord did not flinch from the weapon even as the knife plunged into his back. Sucking on the contents of his own Grail bag, Arawn rammed his dagger through the chest of Clement.
The Pope gasped and his eyes rolled toward heaven.
He went limp and collapsed.
“Neither of you can kill me,” Arawn sneered. “The power of your Word is with me and forever shall be.”
“No longer,” the Cardinal Vicar said.
The grin on Arawn’s face disappeared. Water gushed to the floor. Pope Clement had not only stabbed the fey lord but also the bag that offered him protective life over the body of John.
With a snarl, Arawn went for the sword the Pope had dropped. Richard did not wait. He vaulted in between the two men and jammed the butt of the Dark Thorn into Arawn’s chest, slamming his body backward against the stone wall, pinning him there.
“Finish him!” the Cardinal Vicar roared.
“We will not kill him.”
“He is evil!” Cormac raged, raising his gray sword. “Look what he has done! Step aside, McAllister. Now!”
Conflicting emotions swept through Richard like a wildfire. He wanted to slay the fey lord as much as the Cardinal Vicar did. He still saw Elizabeth as she died under the blade of Arondight; he still burned for vengeance at what had been done to his life.
“I will not,” Richard said finally. “We don’t know what will happen to the spirit of Arawn if we kill the body of John Lewis Hugo.”