Page 31 of Esperance

“What by all the Divinities possessedyou to attack each other?” High Cleric Zacharias hissed, pacing on the other side of his enormous desk. Every item on the dark wood surface was meticulously organized. Stacks of paper were put neatly in their place, along with ink, quill, and a letter opener.

Carver had studied everything on the desk, because if he looked at the man who was reprimanding him, his temper—already riding too close to the surface—might snap.

He sat in a hard-backed chair with his arms folded across his chest. Rivard sat beside him, his face streaked with partially dried blood. His nose was already several different shades of purple.

Neither of them answered the cleric. But for the record, Zacharias didn’t seem to need their participation. He’d been going on like this since they’d entered his office several minutes ago. It had been a good hour since the incident in the yard. Before they’d been called into the high cleric’s office, Zacharias had interrogated the cleric that had been overseeing them in the training yard, to get his account of what had happened.

Clearly, his words hadn’t painted either Rivard or Carver in a good light, because they were both being subjected to this lecture.

“I don’t understand how either of you could devolve into such terrible behavior so quickly. Not a full day into this venture, and you’re already drawing blood!”

The way the high cleric was treating them was reminiscent of a parent lecturing a child, and that fact alone made Carver bristle. Saints blast it, he was a bloodygeneralin the empirical army.

He had to keep reminding himself that the emperor had given the high cleric authority to act in his name, and so he couldn’t snap back.

It was hard to show deference to a man he didn’t respect, though.

Still, Carver had been reprimanded by domineering commanders before, and he’d learned to control his tongue—even when he disagreed with them. So, while the high cleric railed at him and Rivard, Carver fought to keep his expression neutral.

“Isn’t it enough that we had killers break into the temple to enact violence? Was it really necessary for you to do the same? And with the emperor still within these walls!” The tension in the high cleric’s voice made it clear he was more worried about the emperor finding out and blaminghimfor what had happened, than any trouble Carver and Rivard might find themselves in.

Carver’s first impression of Zacharias was definitely proving correct. The man was excited by the important task he’d been given, and thrilled to have authority over them all, but he didn’t actually want to take responsibility for anything negative that might happen here.

Carver’s opinion of Zacharias continued to diminish as he continued to rant. “You both know how important this peace is. I am absolutely appalled by your behavior! Any animosity is unacceptable here. Esperance is a place of peace and healing. You will resolve this.Now.”

There was a beat of silence, and the absence of his booming voice almost made Carver’s ears ring.

Rivard spoke, his voice was a little nasal. “Apologies, High Cleric. I may have said some things that provoked Carver. I’m sorry.”

Carver didn’t believe the contrition in his tone, but then, the act of humility hadn’t been for him.

The high cleric stopped pacing and straightened his spine, his bald head catching the sunlight that poured through the window as he twisted to face them. “Well, I’m relieved to hear you’re sorry. But that doesn’t excuse your behavior today—and it certainly doesn’t do anything to touch General Vincetti’s violent outburst.” He looked between them. “The animosity between you is potent. I want to know why. Daersen and Westmont are not enemies.”

“Carver and I have a personal history,” Rivard said.

Hearing Rivard broach the topic in such a measured tone—as if he were only pointing out the weather—made the back of Carver’s neck heat.

“A personal history,” the high cleric echoed, his eyes sharpening. “What kind of history?”

“There has been some . . . unpleasantness between us,” Rivard said. Carver shot him a look, but the other man hurried to say, “I would prefer not to go into details at this time.” He eyed Carver. “For the sake of the empire, I can make peace with you.”

Zacharias turned to Carver. “And you?”

Never.

That’s what he wanted to say. But it wouldn’t get him out of this room any faster, so he spoke through gritted teeth, directing his words to the high cleric. “I won’t hit him again.”

The high cleric’s eyebrows pulled together. “Lord Quinn, go clean yourself up. You and I will meet again another time to finish this discussion.”

Rivard tipped his head, then left. As the door thudded behind him, the high cleric’s attention was fully on Carver.

Carver met the man’s stare without blinking.

“Would you like to tell me about your history with Rivard?”

“No.”

The high cleric’s eyes narrowed. He settled in his chair, opened one of the desk drawers, and drew out a letter.

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