The Silent Conspiracy

"Subterfuge is afoot, my friends, and there is no one to stop it," he hissed, scanning his audience from the eyeholes of his mask. "No, my friends, you are..." His voice peaked at a high whisper and he drew his hands together. "...alone."

"Except..." He raised a single finger and rotated for all to observe, "except, you see, for meeeee."

The congregation stood in awe before him, silent, obedient. It was dark, night had fallen, and a wind stole in to swing wildly the dim chandeliers overhead. He spread his arms and turned to face the ceiling. He was wearing a cape, and it flapped and roared like the sail of an ancient pirate ship. "I...am...here."

"No!" he screamed, turning back to face the faithful, "no longer shall the people bequeath jurisdiction to the empire, no longer shall the people tolerate the rotting fruits of this injustice, no longer..."

A priest, dressed in a white robe, entered the hall. "...the king! Glory hallelujah, you are saved!"

"No! We are not saved!" He charged forward and seized the priest by the collar. "The revolution has begun, and in riots we shall take the streets! We shall overcome, we shall rise, even if damned we shall be!"

A shout suddenly arose nearby, and a stampede of footsteps echoed in the great hall. "There!" Still clutching the priest's collar, he turned to face the direction from which the noise came. "The army marches near! They have found us! It...is time." He flung the priest to the pews and turned to face the door. "The hour is at hand, my brothers. Rise! Rise!!"

The doors of the cathedral flung open and through the mist, a legion of soldiers charged forth. "The revolution is now!" he screamed, "the people shall overcome, the people shall rise!"

"There you are, wearing that mask again," the nurse scolded, catching him by the arm and removing his cardboard mask, "dammit, why you always gotta run away, huh? Coming to all these heaven-knows-where places in the middle of the night and making us all come look for you? Do you see what you've done? Look at how many nurses I had to bring with me. Look."

The homeless drug addicts of the alleyway gazed at the revolutionary through heavy, lifeless eyes. It was beginning to rain and the wind was picking up. A few blocks over, a police siren blared and was gone. A missionary was leaning against the dumpster, stunned.

"Come on now, let's go home," a male nurse sighed, taking the revolutionary by the other arm, "give you a nice bath, huh? You dirtied your nice pajamas, dancing around in this back alley."

He lowered his head in silence. Then, a slight grin crept across his face. The soldiers were going to bring him before the king, and there, there he would strike at the heart of the empire.