"Your men speak highly of Inquisitor Percivus," Diarmuid told the battered Abbot lying slumped against a chair. "They tell me that he was your protégé. That you took him in during the War of Inches and trained him personally. It seems like everything he became, everything he did, was the fruit of the lessons he learned at your hand."
Recared's good eye flickered toward the Inquisitors who had spoken, and for a moment, his eye burned with the righteous fury that his gaze had held years ago, when he rallied men to fight against the demons of Airgead Mountain, shaming cowards into returning to the front lines as the Holy Lord of Light's chosen warriors…
During the War of Inches, he'd seen broken, defeated men on several occasions. Men who would betray anything and anyone if it meant they could escape the torment of the situation they found themselves in. Now, he saw the same look in his own Inquisitor's eyes… and the person they'd chosen to betray was him.
