The passage of light was softened by the distance from the windows high above in the arched way to the cathedral floor below, dusty and ancient. His footsteps echoed in muffled cadence with his thoughts, flickers of sadness edged with anger and anxiousness. He paused, taking in the moment, framed in the scintillating glow of the colored shards of glass between thin edges of lead. He could feel the warmth of the sun on his face penetrating him. Looking up, he closed his eyes. His thoughts went from this place, to that place, far and distant in time, in travel. His thoughts went to the coast, where the trader's ranged within sight of land, where he once stood on the deck of his frigate, the sounds of sails snapping, men working rope, a ship making way, and breathed the clean fresh air of the sea, the sun warming his face against the sea breeze. For a moment he was no longer here, where he was commanded, but there, where he commanded, where his fate was his alone, among men he knew and trusted. He opened his eyes and stared into the window that illuminated him, his patch of the world at this moment, then lowering his gaze he saw them waiting for him in the atrium. They turned their attention to him, first one, then all, their whispers silenced as they took him in, their coats and scabbards noisily reflecting their tension, hats in worried hand. He looked into the sun again, allowing the colors to fill him, his thoughts, and he breathed in deeply, holding his breath. He calmed himself, and returned his piercing gaze to the gathered men, renewing his confident stride towards them. Their fear was palpable, not knowing he was as afraid of them as they were of him, they believed in him. The time had come for good men to do what is right.
"Smartly now, there is not a moment to loose."
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