When he came to a few moments later, the knights supported him by pinning his arms painfully behind his back. Blaine was standing only a foot away, peering into Mallory's face with a coldness that made him seem devoid of humanity. 'You're a troublemaker, Mallory,' he said. 'Sooner or later I knew I'd get somebody like you.'
Mallory almost couldn't resist making a smart comment, a pathological response that had got him into trouble many times before. He was only restrained this time by an ache in his jaw where one of the cudgels had given him a glancing blow.
'I could see it in your face the moment I set eyes on you,' Blaine continued. 'You don't like authority. You think you're bigger than you are. You think you're important. Well, you're not. Not at all.' He returned to his desk and pulled from one of the drawers something that Mallory couldn't quite make out.
'You thought this was going to be an easy ride,' Blaine said. 'A bunch of soft Church people giving handouts to freeloaders. Well, they might be soft, but they're not stupid. They know how desperate things are. They're in the fight of their lives to save this religion, and they know they can't afford to be weak or they'll lose everything. They're good people, all of them, devout people, and they knew they wouldn't be up to some of the hard choices necessary to keep this Church going. That's why they hired me.'
As Blaine approached, Mallory saw what he was weighing in his hand: a cosh, black leather on the outside, filled with something heavy, probably ball bearings. Mallory didn't have time to consider what lay ahead of him. Blaine brought the cosh down hard on Mallory's left shoulder blade. The pain made his knees crumple, but Blaine showed no emotion at all, neither sadistic pleasure, nor contempt.
'They don't want to know what I do,' Blaine said, without missing a beat. 'They just want the job done. So I use my own initiative. I train up knights who can do the work out there and won't start crying the moment somebody steps on their toes.'
The agony receded until Mallory's shoulder was enveloped by a dull ache. He made to respond, but Blaine brought the cosh down on his other shoulder so hard that Mallory thought he might black out again.
'You might think this is an overreaction,' Blaine said. 'It isn't. This place is based on discipline. That's the only thing that's going to hold it together through all the hard times ahead. You don't wait until little problems become big problems. You stamp on them early, get them sorted out. Lessons get learned, discipline is maintained.'
'I can see why you chose a black shirt for your outfit.'
He waited for the next blow, but Blaine held back. 'You see, with your attitude, Mallory, I really should throw you out on your ear. Some would say you're not worth the trouble. But I don't see it that way. If I did that, you'd go out there, start bad-mouthing the knights all over the place, saying what a bunch of shirtlifters we are. And you see, the knights, they're only going to work if they've got a good reputation. The best reputation. Tough. Fair, of course, but tough. People will know not to mess with them, and because of them, not to mess with the Church. The way I see it, Mallory, I can't expel you. I can't send any failure into the world. I have to make everybody work out, one way or another. You're not going to leave, Mallory. We'll be watching you very closely from now on. You're going to turn out just the way I want.'
'You really think you can make me?' Mallory sneered.
Blaine smiled. 'Of course I can.' The cosh came hard across Mallory's face. He felt his lip burst and then he blacked out again.
Mallory awoke on his bed, his body a web of aches; his face felt as if it had been hit by an iron. The first thing he saw was Daniels hunched over him.
'What happened to you?' Daniels said, with deep concern.
Mallory levered himself on to his elbows then noticed Hipgrave watching from the doorway. 'I walked into a door,' he said.
Hipgrave gave a curt nod and a smirk. Mallory felt a dull anger that his comment would be construed as acceptance of defeat, but it wasn't the time to make a stand. Blaine and the authorities had picked the wrong person to bully.
'You need treatment.' Daniels helped him to his feet tenderly. 'Come on — I'll take you down to the infirmary.'
As they exited, Hipgrave said snidely, 'The Lord watches over those who walk a cautious path.'
'You going to tell me the truth?' Daniels asked, when they were outside.
'I was stupid. But now I'm smart.'
Daniels eyed him cautiously then nodded faintly, understanding without needing to know the details. 'These are indeed hard times.'
Quietly seething, Mallory was barely aware of the disturbance as they walked across the compound. A large group had gathered in the shadow of the cathedral, their animated talk punctuated by cries hailing the Glory of God as they raised their hands towards the steeple.
Gardener was amongst them and broke away when he saw Daniels and Mallory. 'You've got to see this.' His face was transformed by wonder, stripping away the hardness of a tough life; Mallory thought he looked ten years younger.
He dragged them into the centre of the crowd where a grizzled, thick-set man with a bald head staggered around in a daze. Occasionally he would stop, clasp his hands together and raise his face to the sun. Tears streamed down his cheeks.
'Roy was blind,' Gardener said in awe. 'And look at him. He can see!'
'A miracle!' someone cried. 'God is with us!' The note of relief in the voice revealed the subterranean fears of many in the compound.
'What happened?' Daniels asked, his eyes bright with the infectious fervour.
Roy dropped to his knees in front of Daniels, his palms pressed together in prayer. 'Blind these thirty years!' A sob fractured his voice. He half- turned and gestured towards the cathedral. 'This morning I brought the relic into the new shrine. And now this!'
'What relic?'
Daniels' question triggered a ripple of murmuring through the crowd and as one they surged forwards, with more joining by the second. Caught in the flow, Mallory and Daniels allowed themselves to be carried into the cathedral. In the Trinity Chapel a reliquary had been built out of bricks and wood. It was cordoned off by heavy-duty rope, but inside the framework Mallory could glimpse the chest he had seen the Blue Knights bringing into the compound on the night of the attack.
The crowd stood in awe, but its earlier noise had obviously alerted the authorities, for within moments the bishop and Julian were allowed through into the area next to the reliquary.
'We were hoping to make an announcement before vespers,' Julian said when all eyes were on him, 'but I suppose now is as good a time as any.' He smiled devotedly at Cornelius. 'The bishop will say a few words about what is obviously a momentous occasion, not only for our community here, but for Christianity itself.'
Cornelius rested shakily on his cane. Though he looked frail, his eyes were bright with excitement. 'Several weeks ago, the decision was taken to make this cathedral a haven for all surviving relics. Many from the Anglican branch may have long considered them of historical importance only, while our Catholic friends still believe they carry some part of the Lord's power.' He took a long breath, his mouth dry. 'We have all wrestled with the philosophy of our Faith in these changed times. But whichever way you approach this age in which we find ourselves, it is one of wonders. The Spirit affects the material world with a power that we could only have dreamed of before. In this world, then, where faith is an engine of change, what wonders could our relics bring?'
His smile brought gasps from the crowd as understanding of his words slowly surfaced. He gestured towards the reliquary. 'In here lie the bones of Saint Cuthbert. Our brave knights faced undreamed-of dangers to bring them from Durham Cathedral. We prayed over them for seven days and nights. We had hopes… We had so many hopes.'