DeLunden scowled. “Oh, he knows. Believe me, he knows.”
Merton left the bishop in the narthex and entered the nave. He stopped briefly, looking down the long cavernous room with its magnificent arched ceiling, shaped like a great ship’s keel—the word nave, Merton had learned, was derived from the ancient term navis, meaning ship. Towering rows of ribbed pillars, like bunches of reeds bound together, rose hundreds of feet, spilling out at the tops, which spread to form the vaulted ceiling. To either side, lower aisles flanked the nave, encased in the arcades—the series of repeating archways and columns. Above them, the clerestory, or second story, was pierced by tall quatrefoil windows, which normally flooded the floor with light. Tonight they remained black and oily as they reflected the fire of the candles. The same was true of the great rose window at the far end of the cathedral, which appeared as one giant eye. Merton often thought of it as the eye of god watching them, but just as the clerestory lights were dark, so too the great eye remained shut.
Reaching the altar, Merton found alabaster statues of Maribor and Novron. Novron, depicted as a strong handsome man in the prime of his youth, was kneeling, sword in hand. The god Maribor, sculpted as a powerful, larger-than-life figure with a long beard and flowing robes, loomed over Novron, placing a crown on the young man’s head. The statues were the same in every church and chapel; only the materials differed, depending on the means of the parishioners.
“Come forward, Monsignor,” he heard the Patriarch say. His voice carried in echoes from the altar. The cathedral was so large that from where he stood, those in the chancel appeared tiny, dwarfed by distance and made small by the height of the ceiling and the breadth of the walls.
Merton walked the long pathway, listening to the sounds of his shoes against the stone floor.
Just as DeLunden had described, the Patriarch sat at the altar on a chair, his gold and purple robes draped to the floor. Rumors circulated it was the same chair he had used in Ervanon, which he had ordered brought with him at great effort. Merton had never interviewed with His Holiness while in Ervanon, so he could not say if that rumor was true. Few could—His Holiness had rarely seen anyone in his days sequestered in the Crown Tower.
He might have been sleeping, the way the old did, regardless of where they happened to be. To either side of him stood the guards, matching their charge perfectly in color and fashion. DeLunden was right, at least about the guards: they were a peculiar pair. They stood like statues, without expressions, and for a moment he considered how their eyes reminded him of the windows.
Upon reaching the Patriarch, Merton knelt and kissed his ring, then stood once more. The Patriarch nodded. The guards did not move—not even to blink.
“You have news,” Nilnev prompted.
“I do, Your Holiness. I have just come from a meeting with Her Eminence and her staff.”
“So tell me, what is the empress doing to protect us?”
“She has done a great deal. Supplies have been stored to last the city an estimated two years with proper rationing, which she has already instituted. In addition, the grounds of Highcourt Fields will be opened to farmers come spring. This and other areas of the city will produce grain and vegetables from stored seed. Already manure is being delivered as fertilizer. Fish are being netted around the clock and salt houses are preserving the cod in bulk. A saltworks has been built near the docks to provide pans for raking. These measures could very well provide the city and its people with food for years—indefinitely, perhaps, should the fishing fleet be free to farm the sea.
“All stores are being kept underground in bunkers being dug by the populace in the event of attacks from the sky similar to what was seen at Dahlgren. In most instances, this is merely an expansion or adaptation of an existing dungeon. A series of tunnels have already been built that allow access to freshwater. The wastes from latrines are being channeled through newly built sewers. Given the frozen ground, progress is slow, but it is believed that adequate space is already available to save the population—although it will be most uncomfortable. Plans to continue the expansion underground could take two or three more months. The empress actually feels that having it uncompleted is beneficial, as it gives the people something to do.”