Friedrich’s feet hugged the floor just like the ones of a cat getting ready to hunt: the irregularities of the bricks underneath shaped his soles so perfectly that they could well be made of water. His footsteps made no noise, and his body gently rubbed the freezing cold air. The wind mingled inside of the stone building through the broken stained glass, which against the shine of the moon, told the story of the Passion of Christ. Ben’s fingers clung to his hand with a death cold grip, as he made way for them both through columns and images of Saints, Jesus and Mother Mary; the flame of his candle danced over the abandoned seats, the graves of high Lords whose names were nowadays only remembered because of their tombstones, and the grey walls. Finally, the flame wrapped herself around the altar, the Bible, the tabernacle, and at last, the Cross.

  - Did you get confessed? – Ben asked without sparing him a glance, as he placed the candle on top of one of the candlesticks.

  - I did – he heard himself answer. His heart plummeted on his chest and a knot tied his gut, keeping him from breathing. He was not foreign to how it felt like to be about to do something forbidden, but now he understood so suddenly that he had never actually faced such a thing, he had never even dared to until this very moment -. And you? – Ben nodded, finally letting go from his hand and kneeled next to his bag searching for something. It was as if he had just asked him if it was raining outside or if he would have fancied some stew for dinner. Friedrich was horrified on the face of such an irony: having gotten confessed was worthless, tomorrow it was not going to matter at all; it would be just them and what they were about to do for all Eternity -. Are you really sure? – he asked, panic creeping up his chest and then up his throat and giving his voice a raspy taste. Ben nodded once more, now turning around to flash him a smile. His eyes shone and he was holding his cassock -. My life, you don’t need to do this – his hands cradled those smiling cheeks.

  - If you have decided to back down, you just need to say the word – the innocence in Ben’s eyes and in his laughter were enough to help him pretend for a second that they were not about to do something terrible. No, Ben was about to do something terrible; Ben would do something terrible and he was about to jump right behind him.

  - You know that it isn’t that – yes, they were about to do something terrible, but even worse would it be to not do it at all. He had known it when he accepted his proposal and he knew it now too. Ben laughed and his eyes got filled with an almost childlike mischief, as if he did not realize quite yet the weight of his own actions, present and future. The question written on them was neither hidden nor a mystery -. I don’t want you to give more than you can. What about your soul?

  - What about yours? – Ben’s eyes still tasted to dare but the dryness in his voice made quite clear that he knew perfectly well what he was doing. Friedrich did not know whether that was terrifying or relieving. He also did not know what to say: it was finally dawning into him what would happen to his own soul when the morning came around. A part of him had assumed many years ago that he was to burn for all the Eternity. He had been promised salvation and Paradise during his childhood; but as soon as he was old enough to understand the life he had chosen or had been shoved onto him, he understood also that fire and suffering were awaiting him. It was terrifying, yet it was a certainty; and on it rested a strange peace. How would his Eternity be after tonight? How much worse? How much more horrifying? Which was his own Hell? He was curious, albeit he did not wish to know it -. I am not scared – Ben shook his head with the mocking gesture of someone who knows more than what they should. He was about to put the cassock on but stopped -. Do you really want this?

  - I swear on it – Friedrich had never been so sure about anything -. More than anything else on this Earth – his thumb caressed Ben’s cheek, whose eyes lightened once more when they were upon him, and put the cassock once and for all. Friedrich could not stop himself from staring as if he was watching a supernatural event, as if he was being witness of the transition of a man from what was mundane towards what was holy. He had never been holier: he belonged to another world, to another life, amongst cherubs to serenade him and seraphines to bless his way. He did not belong to mortal men on this Earth, to him the least of all of them, master of his own sin. Who had given him the right to put the sin so deep into his heart, that it now required no further intervention but his own wish and trickery to be born? He was albeit his: Ben himself had decided so. He produced a sack from his pocket, which landed on the red velvet of the antependium with a metallic sound.

  - You have brought them – awe was transparent in Ben’s eyes, and they did not astray from the small sack. The dream had just materialized, giving place to pure wonder. After that sack came a second one. Ben looked at him as if he had just been given the whole wide world and did not know what to do with it.

  - How couldn’t I? – at the light of the candle, the time had stopped and only them both lingered on the face of the Earth. Ben looked down at the sacks. He knew it: Friedrich would never betray him. They both wanted this just as much as the other one did. His feet met the floor again and again; he was unable to advert his eyes from the table: evidence was there, yet a piece of his mind refused to take it as such. Friedrich took his hands and held them closet o his chest, he had no more choice but to look at him -. Are you ready? – Ben nodded:

  - It shall be tonight: I shall give you my heart before the eyes of God – his voice came muffled, the pressure on his chest audible. His face was made of stone, and he did not smile any more; yet his eyes sought desperately Friedrich’s -. I do love God, and I love you. Jesus Christ gave us love and that is the very same love that I wish to give you, and that you give me – a raspy sound came up his throat and he adverted his eyes, tears were bright in his eyelids. He squeezed his hand in an attempt of saying what his voice was no longer willing to say, and Friedrich felt himself smile. He could not stop smiling neither as he raised the chin of his Ben so he could look at him nor as he kissed his hand.

  Ben opened the Bible and, after flashing him a shaky smile, he started reading:

  - What can we say about all this? If God is on our side, can anyone be against us? God did not keep back his own Son, but he gave him for us. If God did this, won't he freely give us everything else? If God says his chosen ones are acceptable to him, can anyone bring charges against them? Or can anyone condemn them? No indeed! Christ died and was raised to life, and now he is at God's right side, speaking to him for us. Can anything separate us from the love of Christ? Can trouble, suffering, and hard times, or hunger and nakedness, or danger and death?

  In everything we have won more than a victory because of Christ who loves us. I am sure that nothing can separate us from God's love—not life or death, not angels or spirits, not the present or the future, and not powers above or powers below. Nothing in all creation can separate us from God's love for us in Christ Jesus our Lord! -.

  “We are doing this. Oh, good Lord, we are actually doing this”, he told himself. His hands were shaking when he finally received the Bible; his fingers were not stronger than a piece of fabric under the weight of the book. Ben’s skin brushed his knuckles, turning them into sand that almost vanished carrying the volume within. He took a deep breath and straightened his spine when he reached the desired page:

  - The Lord is merciful!

  He is kind and patient,

  and his love never fails.

  The Lord won't always be angry

  and point out our sins;

  he doesn't punish us

  as our sins deserve.

  How great is God's love for all

  who worship him?

  Greater than the distance

  between heaven and earth!

  How far has the Lord taken

  our sins from us?

  Farther than the distance

  from east to west!

  Just as parents are kind

  to their children,

  the Lord is kind

  to all who worship him,

  because he knows

  we are made of dust -.

  The Lord is kind and merciful, He is good, He is fair, the Lord, the Lord, the Lord. Did He really know piety and how to dispense it though? Was mercy even a thing actually? Would he ever find peace from his actions in the many days contained within Eternity? Would it be God the one to give it to him? Would it be Jesus Christ? Would it be His mother, Virgin Mary, in her infinite gentle mercy? Or would it be Ben, singing Psalms from the depths of his memory? Would it be the memory of his eyes what would bring him to find relief in his own sin? Because, and he hoped God would forgive him for this, but every time he thought about this sacrilege, a weight pressed against his chest, yet that invisible rock would not ever finish robbing him from his last breath when a fire grew through his spine and made him feel the world was his to tear apart and build anew.

  - Are you alright? – the gentle squeeze of Ben’s fingers in his hand drove him to his eyes. He felt himself nod and kiss his hand. There was no name for this sin, yet it was utterly unimportant. The only important thing is that they were about to commit it together. Ben’s voice filled the altar once more:

  - ?Te encuentras bien? – el suave apretón de los dedos de Ben en su mano le llevó a buscar sus ojos. Se sintió a sí mismo asentir y besarle la mano. No había nombre para este pecado; y eso carecía de importancia. Lo único que importaba era que lo cometerían juntos. La voz de Ben llenó el altar una vez más:

  - What if I could speak all languages of humans and even of angels? If I did not love others, I would be nothing more than a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. What if I could prophesy and understand all mysteries and all knowledge? And what if I had faith that moved mountains? I would be nothing, unless I loved others. What if I gave away all that I owned and let myself be burned alive? I would gain nothing, unless I loved others.

  Love is patient and kind, never jealous, boastful, proud, or rude. Love isn't selfish or quick tempered. It doesn't keep a record of wrongs that others do. Love rejoices in the truth, but not in evil. Love is always supportive, loyal, hopeful, and trusting. Love never fails! Everyone who prophesies will stop, and unknown languages will no longer be spoken. All that we know will be forgotten.

  Friedrich was listening to him in a trance. God was not his God anymore; the angels and the saints had just vanished from the face of the Earth and all the candles in the world ought to be lit in honor of the man before him. It was not until Ben had closed the Holy Bible in front of the altar that he lowered his gaze, their fingers still joined in a warm knot.

  - I, Ben, take thee, Friedrich, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life – Ben’s voice shook nonstop as he repeated that phrase that he has listened so many times in that very same altar. It feels alien in his own lips, as if he was saying the lines of another actor in the middle of the function. However, he kept going as if he felt a voracious hunger creeping within, which could only be satiated by tasting each and every of those words. He let them caress his palate and also Friedrich’s ears, who allowed himself to smile, freeing himself from any judgement he could have sustained himself before. His voice met Ben’s, clinging to it like another link of the same chain:

  - I, Friedrich, take thee, Ben, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life – each word followed the previous one as thrusts in a duel: he would not stop to overthink them in a hurry, they just flowed; they were his lifeline. Ben’s smile was brief, yet it made all of them worth it.

  - May the Lord confirm with this consent expressed to the Church and fulfill His blessings on you. What God has joined together, let no man put asunder. Let us bless the Lord – said Ben. He listened himself answer:

  - Bless the Lord – and for a moment he thought that they certainly should not be thanking God: perhaps not involving Him in this decision was for the best, He would want no part on it. However, the temptation of doing so was stronger; it was ineffable. Would it be worse: To consecrate before God a union He would despise or renounce of His presence altogether? How deep was the Circle of Hell in which he was to burn?

  - Yo, Friedrich, te quiero a ti, Ben, como esposo y me entrego a ti, y prometo serte fiel en la prosperidad y en la adversidad, en la salud y en la enfermedad, y así amarte y respetarte todos los días de mi vida – las palabras se suceden entre sí como estocadas en un duelo: no se detiene a pensarlas, fluyen; son su portal a la vida. La sonrisa de Ben es breve, pero hace que todas y cada una valgan la pena.

  He did not let go of Ben’s hand as he took one of the sacks laying on top of the altar: surprise shone in the eyes of his betrothed as he produced two rings. They were two simple golden bands, yet enough for Ben’s eyes to scream “They ought to have costed you a fortune” as he deposited them on his hand. He would ask no questions about it though, neither where he had gotten them nor how much they have costed, either clinking coins or blood dense as ink. The proud smirk in his lips flourished effortlessly: the man in front of him had been dragged to the imminent reality of the situation by the cold weight of the bands, it was a cocoon he had not finished breaking free from.

  - May the Lord bless these rings as a token of love and fidelity – said Ben when he finally found his voice in the deepest of his throat. His eyes clung to the rings, and they kept clinging to them as he grabbed the left hand of the man who was about to be his husband and he slide one of them in his finger -. Friedrich, receive this ring as a token of my love and fidelity for thee. In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

  Friedrich took the other ring, which was still lying in Ben’s hand. He could not help neither the brief chuckle nor the mischievous grin in his face as he held his betrothed’s hand and he searched for his eyes. The laughter was not finished quite yet before he talked once again:

  - Ben, receive this ring as a token of my love and fidelity for thee. In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit – it was done. Once and for all, it was done. Ben’s fingers trembled as he opened the other sack. The coins rolled through the altar with a metallic sound.

  - May the Lord bless these arrhae with abundance – said Ben, covering the coins with his hand there where they laid. He took half of them and handed them to Friedrich by saying -: Friedrich, receive these arrhae as a token of God’s blessings and the goods we are to share – his hand still lingered into Friedrich’s when the later laid the other half of the coins repeating the same formula:

  - Ben, receive these arrhae as a token of God’s blessings and the goods we are to share -.

  Ben look at him flabbergasted, his face was a perfect mask of awe and surprise. It was indeed finally done. His voice was so weak that the wind hissed louder from the other side of the windows as he prayed Credo in unum Deum. His eyes reflected the flame of the candle in such a way that they could have been produced in red glass. The shadows danced in his clenched jaw and in the fine line of his lips.

  - Trusting in God’s unwavering love, we present Him our needs and open our hearts to receive His blessings. Let us pray – there was no confidence in his voice, just costume.

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  - From you, O Lord – Friedrich answered so loud and clear, that for a moment it seemed that tonight was not consecrated to sacrilege but instead happening in front of an entire congregation.

  - For those rulling this world, make their hearts swell with mercy and piety, make them scoff disdain and slow to dispense their rage; help them to not see justice in scorn and make their example to be treasured in all the corners of the Earth. For that reason we pray – Ben’s soul was finally laying naked in top of the altar, having left behind charades and hideouts. Before Friedrich’s gaze he had just transcended mortality and mundanity, and he was speaking face to face with God without stammering.

  - From you, O Lord – he answered when the time came, his chest swelling with pride.

  - In behalf of the Church we beg. May her embrace reach the humanity in the hearts of men; may it be unconditional and pose no judgement to those who still have not reached Sanctity. We pray – the way in which Ben’s fingers trembled in his hand did not go unnoticed to him.

  - From you, O Lord – he answered yet again.

  - For each soul in this world, king or beggar, saint or mundane, with all their similarities and differences. Put humility in their hearts; do not let their pride tent them into deciding what is right and what is sin, or choose what Sanctity and Justice are – and eventually, the squeak born in Ben’s throat spoke of just one thing: fear. This was no prayer, he was begging -. We pray.

  - From you, O Lord – not all prayers were to be answered in right time, as begging did not secure any mercy.

  - For those suffering oppression: give them braveness and strength, and the courage to be honest to themselves. We pray -.

  - From you, O Lord -.

  - God of love, bless us, your beloved children, so we can serve you right. We pray for this in the name of your Son Jesus Christ. Amen – Ben’s hands left Friedrich’s and opened a box containing Christ’s flesh and blood within. He watched him consecrate the host and the wine as many other times before and just like them, he did not hear a word of it until it was time to commune. There was nothing holy in how Ben looked at him when he kneeled to receive the host, nor in the way his tongue brushed against his fingers as he retrieved it. There had never been, but those instants have always belonged just to them and them alone; it was what made worth it to get up early on Sunday, hungover and covered in bruises from the night before, confess sins that were neither that bad nor his own, and attend Mass. Their hands got locked again, thumbs playing with each other’s skin, as they repeated the Lord’s Prayer. “Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil”. If God had spared them from following temptation’s path, would it have spared them from meeting each other? Would it have spared them from loving each other? Would it have spared them from consecrating their lives to one another? He did not believe so, and this time it was no arrogance what brought him to the conclusion that there was no sin in his actions, so he could sleep at peace and forget the fires of hell burning beneath his feet; it was the certainty that there was nothing wrong in his desires, his actions, in their love. There was nothing evil in love. It could never be.

  - Holy Father, we humbly prostrate before you to beg for your blessing upon this union. We supplicate for your mercy, your loving embrace and protection; may it set an example of respect, fidelity and trust, and be full of happiness and joy such for your children here present to hallow thee. We beg for you to guide their hearts and judgement towards doing good, during the long life we ask you to concede for them to be together; and for you to put kindness in the hearts of those around them to see the pureness of their bond and to treat them justly. In the name of Jesus Chris our Lord, Amen – Ben was again not wavering as he said those words; it did not sound like supplicating or begging, more like demanding. There was no humility in them, but exhaustion and the sad resignation of someone who tries to speak them once again yet knowing that they are to fall in deaf ears. Those words were yet not quite finished when he made the sign of the Cross; and he had not finished drawing the Cross in the air when he grabbed him by the waist. Friedrich’s fingers grabbed the velvet from the altar behind him to not lose balance as Ben’s lips were meeting his own, the stoicism of the young priest finally gone.

  - I am yours, I am finally yours – said Ben, when their lips parted, yet their faces were at the close enough for another kiss. The flame upon the altar drew the unshed tears in his eyes and the tremor of his jaw, a relief he was not expecting to see. Friedrich’s fingers let go of the cloth covering the altar to cradle his husband’s; the fabric of his cassock burned against his left hand and his hair tangled the right one. He squeezed him gently and that moment seemed to last forever. Each instant of that night would be engraved in eternity.

  Eternity was broken later on during the early morning, right before dawn. Someone was knocking the main door and it reverberated in the entire building. Both, laying still in the apse under Friedrich’s cloak, crossed a horrified look. Before the air could return to their lungs, there was some more knocking. Ben got dressed stumbling in his own feet and pushed any object that at first he could not recognize as his own in Friedrich’s direction.

  - Hide – he whispered, as they heard knocking yet again. Friedrich, and all what he could fit into his arms, disappeared under the altar -. Coming! – he yelled, grabbing the candlestick. Friedrich watched as the light of the candle got more and more distant until it was unrecognizable. The door creaked open and all of a sudden it was very cold.

  - Father! I thought that you would not open anymore -an older man’s voice spoke in a manner such that it sounded as a reprimand, as if it was not indeed the middle of the night and he did have a right to be annoyed.

  - Lord Bishop – the reverence in Ben’s voice was so palpable that he could almost see him kneel and kiss the ring -, please do come on in. What can I do for you? – he could not help but think that Ben ought to respect the Bishop a big deal to hide so well the annoyance that his visit this late and in this circumstances was producing him.

  The door creaked closed and there was a rumor of steps, falling cold on the tiles. A smaller door creaked open and closed. During a long while he tried to listen into the conversation, but all he could hear was an unintelligible murmur; and after trying and trying, he ended up realizing that his only company would be the various noises of the night, all of them muffled and, for some reason, terrifying. When Ben lifted one of the corners of the tablecloth to take him from under the altar, he had fallen asleep.

  - What did he want? – he asked, coming clumsily from under the table and trying to no avail to hide the jump scare that he had just gone through. Ben went quickly from muffling a cackle at that sight to arching an eyebrow with disdain.

  - He requires my services tomorrow at first time – he said, finally leading him into his bedchambers. It was now Friedrich’s turn to arch an eyebrow. He leaned against the doorframe, without allowing himself to come in. Ben noticed the change in atmosphere but could not explain himself the reason behind it -. What is the problem?

  - Has he said what for? – Friedrich asked. Tension was too loud now to ignore it.

  - Dispense a blessing – Ben looked at him sideways with a frown.

  - To whom? – Friedrich’s eyes did not part from Ben’s. His back was so flat that he could barely feel the rigidity of the door against his spine.

  - To some gentlemen leaving tomorrow for Trier – Ben answered. He crossed his arms, irritated by Friedrich’s sour mood: he seemed to be always seeing the worst in people to start a fight -How come that is any of your business?

  - I am leaving tomorrow for Trier – Friedrich’s pupils pierced Ben’s, yet the later seemed still unaware to whatever he was trying to say and ended up scoffing mockingly and sitting on the bed.

  - You are no gentleman – Friedrich’s knowing look made the laughter die in his throat. A shudder went up his spine -. Everyday people go to Trier – there was no need for him to be told to not be so na?ve for the message to land: coincidences were hardly a thing. Friedrich would repeat that day in and day out -. Since when does a stab in the back bother you anyways? – Friedrich gazed away, knowing to the truth in Ben’s words, yet offended to hear them from him of all people.

  - He is plotting something – he heard himself say.

  - Evidently. And that has never bothered you before – there was curiosity in Ben’s words. He could feel his eyes over him as he walked through the room. It was a humble place: besides the bed and the Cross in the wall, there was a bookshelf with treaties covering from anatomy to theological manifestos, and a desk with some ink and an open Bible.

  - You are wrong – he said lifting a copy of the Trotula and leafing through the drawings. It ought to cost a fortune just by the price of the inks. The amount of hours employed to copy it would make the volume unpayable. Ben could not care any less for Medicine, why on Earth did he want a copy of the Trotula? -. Rule number one to survive on this is that you are never safe unless you have everybody’s hands on sight. Rule number two is the exception confirming the rule: never trust the hand that feeds you.

  - He must have his reasons – said Ben imperturbable, not moving a muscle. He stared at him in horror: of all the things he could have said, this was easily the worst. Indolence was a shroud that he would have no issue with anyone wearing but his husband; he could not allow it.

  - It doesn’t make it any better and you know it – an awkward silence grew between them until Ben lowered his gaze. This was not how Friedrich had wanted to spend their wedding night, arguing and with the Bishop’s plans in their minds, but the spell was broken and there was only one thing he knew for sure: these would be their lives from now on, full of disagreements that could not be negotiated. And it simply did not matter. Not now. He kneeled next to the bed and took Ben’s hand amongst his -. Soon it will be dawn. I have to go. I don’t want to leave like this though.

  - Will you be careful? – Ben’s eyes did not leave their intertwined hands. He would have wished to have more time. He kissed Ben’s knuckles and said:

  - I promise – the words were still vibrating in the air when Ben finally looked at him in the face.

  - Please, come back – he had said that phrase a hundred times before, and a hundred times he had waited everyday to see him again, lightening candles next to the statue of the Virgin. “Have mercy. Make him come back to me”, he would pray with his heart catching up in his throat. Friedrich’s throat turned into a knot that robbed him from his voice. He kissed him and walked towards the door; he was about to close it behind himself when Ben spoke again -. It was not the only thing he asked from me – a silence lasting the same as an unsaid question made him continue -. He wants me to go with them – Friedrich’s blood was already frozen within his veins when he turned to see him.

  - I don’t want you to – he said vehemently.

  - I have no control over it – it was enough to keep his blood frozen for good.

  - Do you even know what for…? – he did not get to finish the question: Ben was shaking his head – I don’t want you to go.

  - Neither do I – said Ben. There was nothing else to be said, at least not a single thing that would really matter. He closed the door behind himself. The gray light of the morning was shining in the main corridor of the church. He lifted his hood over his head when he reached the street to protect himself from the light rain falling. He slipped through the narrow streets, the people who preferred the safety of the anonymity of the night and the houses until the Tower of the Rhine’s Gate grew larger alongside the rumor of the river at her feet. Under the shadow of the tower, raising as an extension of the wall, two shapes awaited.

  - Took you long enough – the dirty look that Brokenface shoot him did not go unseen to him, but he preferred to ignore it either way. It was too early to deal with this.

  Brokenface had the accent of those who had been born next to the Seine and under the roof of Notre Dame. As the name suggested, he had an ugly scar crossing diagonally his old and wrinkled face all the way from the right eyebrow, going through the nose and getting lost somewhere in the left cheek; the memento of a stroke in a forgotten duel. Or that was the story that he used to tell. He used to embellish the tale by saying that after said duel he had ended up exiled and his future in shambles; and that, without much of a choice, he had ended up selling his sword to whomever could pay for it within the borders of the Holy Roman Empire. How promising that future had actually been was an utter mystery: there told the legend that he had been in the way to become a physician when it had taken place. Friedrich did not know for sure whether to believe him or not: Brokenface was a complete mystery to him and to whoever else had crossed paths with him; the only one who could see through his charade was the Bishop, yet he did not fully know whether it was because they shared a clinking common tongue or because they both knew more than they should.

  - I had something to tend to – Friedrich said dryly. Brokenface clicked his tongue and sank in his cloak, which was too big and too short for him.

  - Leave him alone – Axe had finally stopped peeing and made his way towards them, just on time to cut Brokenface short -. Did you tend well enough to that something? – if the innuendo had not been obvious enough, Axe’s immature chuckle left clear enough that he had the same interest and priorities than a teenager. He rolled his eyes, forced a laugh and nodded. Jesus Christ on top of the bloody Cross knew well enough that it had not been his wish to part from his something to be tended to, if that was how they were to call him; that in fact he would have wished to never leave his bed and have him forever in his arms -. Does she have a name?

  - Where is Dices? – he asked, pretending to not hear the question. Axe cackled whilst Brokenface frowned disapprovingly.

  - Where do you think he is? – he asked still laughing -. Betting on our horses – he was cackling in such a way that it was crystal clear that the whole issue was not even mocking material to him: it was genuinely hilarious. “That explains a lot”, thought Friedrich. Brokenface mumbled something that he could not make out quite well but that seemed important -. By betting on them, I mean trying to get them back.

  Friedrich sighed and had to make an attempt to not laugh himself. Consequences to be damned, Axe was right: the situation was peculiar to say the least.

  - So I imagined – he padded his bag: an apple and some water was all he had left. To remember now that their provisions were already loaded in the horses, to have Dices bet on them was less funny. He gave the apple a bite and Brokenface’s eyes grew.

  - And that? – asked the old man. His pupils were already cradling the wedding band in Friedrich’s hand.

  - The Dices is not the only one betting on things – he said nonchalantly -. Although some of us win once in a while – the scar in the face of the other man grew narrow to the point of looking like a mere wrinkle: he did not buy it; they both knew it, as much as they also knew that he was not going to ask any more questions. He was a curious and very observing man, and he did not approve of lies, but he was respectful. The amused grin in Axe’s chubby face made him think that he also did not believe him and that, if Brokenface had not been there, he would have asked away. However, they all knew that Brokenface’s word, either spoken or merely thought, was the law.

  The sun finally raised in a platinate path behind the silky veil of the clouds. The bells from the Cathedral answered to it and soon they were followed from those of the Church of the Holy Trinity and the Church of Saint Stephan. When he recognized the later, his mind got filled by Ben, whom by the sixth chime, let two men in the Pfarry. They seemed important people, albeit he did not know who they were or why they were important: they carried themselves as those who have been born with a silver spoon in their mouth but it was unknown to him whatever for they had decided to use their influences. They had no coat of arms or stole that could reveal their loyalties or rank.

  - Father – the older of the men, who later on would introduce himself as Ludwig, nodded solemnly towards him, promptly followed by the younger one, Karl -. I have heard that you shall be our guide.

  Ben nodded but uttered no word. He had nice memories of Trier, but he would not share them with strangers. He took their confession, gave them the host and the wine. A lonely stroke reverberated through the city when he was done praying for God’s protection; they were three when they finally reached the bridge of the Rhine.

  - If the Dices doesn’t bring the horses right away, I’ll kill him – Brokenface groaned looking at the three men crossing the Gates. Under the cradle of the tower protruding from the wall following the river, Friedrich stared at Ben, who had not followed his advice of remaining in Constance. And, besides the blood hitting against his cheeks, an emptiness was filling his chest.

  - Are you sure it’s them? – he asked leaning against the wall and following them with the sight, as they got lost amongst the people going back and forth. Tomorrow it would be Easter and there was already chaos, countrymen bringing and taking produce to the city and preparing the feasts.

  - He said that a priest was going with them, the one of the Saint Stephan. He’ll take them to the Black Forest – said the old man, hiding the menacing glare under the hat. Friedrich shuddered.

  - They go to the west – said the Guard from the battlement towards Brokenface, who let out a coarse chuckle. The emptiness in Friedrich’s chest grew and it was not filled when the Dices showed up again drunk, bleeding and bankrupted but with their horses and it was time to leave.