War.
When he heard about the absorption of Raj Torakon into Raj Tingara, Sabithe knew it had begun. The lightning fast attack through Loua Louna only confirmed it. He heard about the depredations of the Black Army in Halaran, and the butchery at the Battle for Ralanast that the templars were calling a great victory.
All in the name of the Evermen.
When he heard about the intentional destruction of the Bridge of Sutanesta, the only escape route to Altura, and the Black Army's pinning of the refugees against the Sarsen, Sabithe wept.
Many escaped that day, thank the Evermen, but there were many who didn't: helpless people, ordinary people, not only from Halaran but from Torakon and from Loua Louna. Children with their mothers, husbands with their wives, the elderly and the infantile; they all died together.
Sabithe decided it was time to pick up a sword.
He was forced to wait, but when the attacks on Stonewater came, when some desperate warrior sought his revenge on the Assembly, Sabithe knew it was just a matter of time before the Primate returned.
Now the Primate was back, and Sabithe was ready.
He listened intently, waiting in the shadows of a stairway, but could hear nothing. Sabithe tried to slow his breathing and still his racing heart. He closed his eyes, and swiftly prayed to the Evermen for success this night. Sabithe opened his eyes again, looking up. Solace would finish soon, and the guards would once again be pacing the corridors of Stonewater. He had best be quick.
As Sabithe crept up the stairway, keeping a constant lookout for the guards he knew would be hard to hear in their stillness, he could feel the weight in his cassock. The prismatic orb was heavy, much heavier than he had expected it to be, but he knew how to activate it — such things were never complicated; the army was rarely the first option for the educated — and he had been told the orb would be more than sufficient for what he intended.
"Who's there?" a voice sounded.
Sabithe hadn't seen the guard, motionless as the man was, far from the soft light of the corridor's nightlamps. Earlier, he had made it past a guard simply by nodding, but he knew that as close as he was to the Primate's chambers, this time it wouldn't suffice.
"I was told you'd know I was coming," Sabithe said, stepping close to the guard. Against the wall as he was, the man had nowhere to draw back to.
"By who?" the guard challenged.
"It doesn't matter," Sabithe said. Stepping forward, he thrust the stiletto deep into the guard's heart. He withdrew the knife and stabbed again, this time through to the lungs.
Sabithe could see from the guard's yellowed eyes, now wide and filled with fear, that he had the taint. Sabithe didn't know what the taint was exactly, but he had overheard it being discussed. Apparently it was a reward, a potion that was given to the warriors most dedicated to the Primate's cause. Some magic that gave a man powers of regeneration and vitality.
Sabithe stabbed one last time; he wasn't sure how powerful the regeneration was. A gurgling sound came from the guard's throat, and he slumped against the wall. As the body slid down, it left a smear of red where he'd been.
Sabithe was shocked as the guard struggled to stand back up again. As he watched, the templar's strength appeared to return to him.
"In the name of the Evermen," Sabithe whispered to himself. "This is not natural."
He grabbed at the base of the guard's throat and pushed until the man's head was back against the wall. Sabithe took a deep breath, and then plunged the stiletto into the guard's eye with as much strength as he possessed.
The guard kicked once, twice, and then was still.
Sabithe dropped the knife, barely cognizant of the clatter it made against the floor. He felt like weeping, but he knew this was a time when he needed to be strong. If anyone else was out at this hour — a likely event, given the war going on — they would immediately sound the alarm, and it would all be for nothing.
Summoning his strength, Sabithe straightened, looking up and down the corridor. Ahead there was an archway leading to one final set of steps, curving as they ascended. At the summit of the steps two guards would be waiting in an antechamber, behind them would be a heavy door of oak, and behind the door would be the Primate's living chamber.
For good or ill, it would end here and now.
Sabithe took a deep breath, and then began to run.
"We're being attacked. There are dead guards everywhere!" he cried as he ran through the archway and dashed up the steps. With his white priest's cassock covered in blood, he knew he would make a believable impression.
Both guards instantly drew their swords and faced up to the priest.
"Get back, priest," one of them said.