Archer held up his hands. “Is that enough to quell your conscience?”
Celestine narrowed her eyes at him. “You, Admiral, of all people should know that doing what’s easy, and doing what’s best for the greater good, are not always the same thing.”
“Of course I know that,” Archer said. “We don’t have the luxury of letting personal matters interfere with our decisions.” He found he was twisting his wedding ring around and around, and abruptly closed his hands into fists. “But I wouldn’t have sent the woman to her death.”
Celestine’s face paled. “You think that’s what I’ve done?”
“Did you?”
“No,” Celestine said. She drew herself up and became the High Reverent before Archer’s eyes. “It is dangerous, yes. But she is powerful and resourceful and driven to succeed. I have faith that she will.”
“There you go.” Archer sat back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face. “Feel better?”
Celestine arched a brow at him. “Have I just had a lesson in diplomacy from the great Admiral Crane?”
“Tanner Gaines, a truly great admiral, once told me that the only way to lead is to pick one thing out of the swirling chaos, put it to rest, and then pick up the next.”
“Sound advice,” Celestine said, and sat down across from him. She still sat ramrod straight but Archer was pleased to see some of the tenseness leave her face and shoulders. “And now the next item in the ‘swirling chaos’ is the Bazira. They grow stronger every day.”
“I thought the Two-Faced God revered balance above all things,” Archer said. “The Bazira cannot grow too strong, can they?”
“They can,” Celestine replied. “The gods revere balance, not that of equivalent scales, but the constancy of a pendulum swinging back and forth. That is what High Reverent Coronus, in his great wisdom, taught us. The Aluren enjoyed an era of might and power before the Zak’reth war. Now the pendulum is swinging the other way, to the Bazira. Now,” she said with a shudder, “it is their time.”
“Then let’s go to war,” Archer said and pounded his fist on the table. “Force that damn pendulum back. And I’m only half-kidding.”
This coaxed a small smile out of Celestine but it faded quickly.
“I know you are weary of this island, Archer, but be careful what you wish for. My dream, and that of the entire Aluren faith, is everlasting peace. My one consolation is that Skye has contacted us at last with plans to achieve it. I trust the Guild is doing its part?”
Archer nodded. “Aye. They’ve been doing their part for ten years, since the Zak’reth blew us to bits. But the Order of Shipwrights complains they haven’t enough drafters. And now Skye wants to double production.” He pursed his lips. “It would have been good of her to at least tell us why. And I don’t see why Skye’s making these demands in the first place. Armadas are built for war, not ‘everlasting peace.’”
“I trust that Skye knows what she is doing,” Celestine said. “I believe she can Hear the god like no other. We must remember that as we strive to fulfill her directives. And I will try to remember that when I think of what Paladin Koren faces.”
Archer nodded absently. His ring spun around and around until he caught himself but it was too late. Celestine’s eyes were soft on his.
He groaned. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“I know it is hard for you, my friend,” Celestine said. “But what she is doing is for the good of all Lunos. She corresponded after four years of silence. That is a hopeful sign.”
“Aye. She’s not dead anyway. There’s that,” Archer said bitterly. But it was what her message was lacking that stung him to the core. He shook his head, not sure if he were more disgusted with Skye for her silence or for himself for holding on.
“If we’ve exhausted all topics of discussion, save my unmanly flailing for my absent wife, I’ll take my leave.”
“There is no shame in missing your wife,” Celestine said. “Were I in your shoes…” She cleared her throat. “She will return and you will know happiness again.”
Archer didn’t say anything. He knew Celestine envied his marriage. Or the idea of it, as that’s all he felt he had left. Sometimes the High Reverent let her officious mask slip to reveal the lonely young woman beneath. And more often than not, he was the only one there to see it.
“Tell me something good,” Archer said, offering a jovial smile. The kind she complained she so rarely saw anymore. “Tell me something good about Connor.”
He watched his friend turn her head and straighten a paper that was already straight.
Archer slumped. “Ah, gods, now what?”
“Don’t be like that,” Celestine said. “Your son is exceedingly intelligent. The sharpest student we’ve ever had…”
“That’s what you say every time. He’s the sharpest student who can’t heal a bruise. Who can’t muster a flicker of light.”
“He is trying…”
“Why can’t the god Hear him?”
“And that is what you ask me every time, and the answer is always the same.” Celestine folded her hands on the desk. “I don’t know.”
“But you should,” he snapped. She flinched and Archer cursed himself. “I’m sorry. I don’t care, really, except that he wants it so badly. But I guess the god doesn’t want him.”
Celestine sighed. “Connor is exceptional. His swordcraft is ingenious. I don’t know why the god is deaf to his prayers.”
Archer snorted. “I do.”
Celestine reached over and clasped the Admiral’s hand. “I’ve told you, his illness shouldn’t preclude him from becoming a Paladin. The god doesn’t demand perfection.”
“No, it demands more than that. Connor and Selena Koren are living proof.”
He could see his words offended and that a rebuke was on Celestine’s lips.
“I’m sorry. Again.” Archer tugged his collar. “This heat…”
Celestine put on a smile. “Connor tells me his training with the Alliance corps is going very well.”
“Aye. Master Wharton reports his weapons training is exceptional, and he has tremendous proficiency in archery, tactics, and all the rest.” He waved his hand.
“There is your good news! He will make a fine sailor. An officer, doubtless. Taking after his father—”
“Aye, except for the small fact he doesn’t want to be an officer in the Alliance, he wants to be a Paladin. He wants to sail around Lunos, healing the sick and defending the weak, or so he tells me. Told me. He doesn’t speak of it much anymore because he’s too embarrassed by his failures.”
“He’s not a failure,” Celestine insisted, “but he has not yet been called into service by the Two-Faced God and so it’s probable he won’t be. That is the truth of it. And don’t think I’m pleased about it. We need as many able-bodied people in our ranks as are willing. The fact that Connor has the passion for it but not the ability galls me terribly. We need him. I need him. For your sake, he is more than welcome to stay among us, but I don’t believe it will do any good. His destiny lies elsewhere.”
“Try telling him that,” Archer muttered.