A Reflection in Time (or something like)
an excerpt

Chapter 1
Broken Reflections
The bishop stood in the shadows and listened. The cathedral, in darkness save for the low gas lamps scattered throughout the sanctuary, was as quiet as death.
He chuckled mirthlessly to himself at that analogy. If he was not careful, he would be part of that humorless joke. Hence his care in dressing as nondescript as possible. It was only his ring, carefully hidden in the lining of his jacket that would identify his status.
His outer garments – the heavy worn cloak, threadbare trousers and scuffed shoes - would identify him as a middle class merchant – and not a particularly prosperous one, either.
Gripping his parcel closely, he slipped noiselessly down the aisle toward the altar and into the Queen's Chapel on the north side. Feeling along the wall behind the tiny altar, he found what he was looking for and gently pulled it. A portion of the thick stone wall silently slid away and – with a quick look behind him – the disappeared into the darkness, the stones moving back into place and looking as if they had not moved since being laid upon one another 500 years earlier.