Brother Eli didn’t say anything for a moment, perhaps waiting for Matthews to step forward as well, accept some of the blame. When he didn’t, the monk sighed and gestured to the door.
“You three, get out of here,” he ordered, scowling at the trio. “If this happens again, I don’t care who started it—you’ll be on kitchen duty for the rest of the year. Out!”
They scrambled to leave, but not before Matthews shot a last, triumphant smirk in my direction. Then they were gone, and Brother Eli turned to me again. I braced myself for the lecture, for my punishment, but the monk sighed and shook his head, his expression becoming grim.
“Here,” he said quietly, and pressed a handkerchief into my hand. “Clean yourself up, Sebastian, and follow me. The Headmaster wants to see you.”
Puzzled, I did as he said, washing the blood from my face before pressing the cloth to my nose. Brother Eli met me in the hall and silently motioned for me to follow. As I trailed him down the corridor, passing students and other classes still in session, apprehension warred with confusion. Why did the Headmaster want to see me? Had I done something wrong, other than the fight? Did he already know about the incident in the bathroom and want to punish me himself?
When we reached the Headmaster’s office, Brother Eli simply nodded for me to go in. Stuffing the bloody handkerchief in my pocket, I walked to the door and knocked twice, hearing the familiar “Enter” a moment later. I pushed back the door and saw Headmaster St. Julian standing before his desk with a man I’d seen once before, when I first arrived with Benedict. Like Brother Eli, both looked grave as they stared at me, and my heart started an irregular thud in my chest.
“Recruit Sebastian.” The Headmaster motioned me forward with a withered hand. “Please come inside.” I did as I was told and stood at attention before the desk, while the door creaked on its hinges and clicked shut behind me.
“At ease,” the Headmaster said, and I relaxed my posture, though everything inside me was still tense. The Headmaster nodded to the man beside him. “Sebastian, this is Lieutenant Gabriel Martin, of the Order’s Western Chapterhouse. I don’t believe you have formally met.”
“No, sir,” I replied, glancing at the lieutenant. St. George was a small organization and didn’t follow the structure of modern armies with tens of thousands of troops, but it was, in fact, an army. The lieutenants commanded the soldiers of the various chapterhouses throughout the country and were responsible for a unit’s training and general preparedness. Above them were the captains, and above them, the Patriarch himself.
The lieutenant smiled, but it was a tight, painful smile, as if he would rather be anywhere else. “If you’ll excuse us, Headmaster,” he murmured, and the other man nodded. Rising from the desk, he gave me a brief, unreadable look and left me alone with Lieutenant Martin.
I waited until the Headmaster had gone and the door had closed behind him, before turning to the lieutenant. “Am I in trouble, sir?” I asked quietly.
“No.” Gabriel Martin shook his head. “No, Garret, you’re not in trouble. Lucas Benedict was a good friend of mine. He’s the reason I’m here. He made me promise that if anything happened to him...” He paused, and in that moment, I knew what had happened. Why he’d come.
“Garret.” I heard Martin sigh. “Lucas Benedict...was killed last week in battle. He was in South America on a mission for the Order, and his squad was ambushed by the enemy. There were no survivors.”
My stomach dropped, and for a moment, everything inside me went numb. Benedict had never been a father to me, he’d made that clear himself. My whole life, all of our interactions had been strictly student to teacher, and he’d kept me at arm’s length with professional detachment, never getting too close. But he had always been there. And there were times when that mask would slip and he would look at me with pride. Almost with affection. It hadn’t been much, but it had been enough.
Now he was gone. For the second time in my life, I was an orphan.
It took several breaths before I could ask, “Was...was it the dragons?”
“Not directly,” Martin replied in a solemn voice. “The target they were looking for was not at the location, but it had left servants behind. Lucas was leading the squad when the ambush happened. He was shot and killed instantly.”
“So, it was Talon.”
“Garret.” Martin stepped forward, pulled up a chair and sat in it so that we were the same height. “Listen to me. I’ve known Lucas a long time. He was a good soldier and an excellent leader. When you first came to us and he took you in, I thought he was crazy. But I’ve watched you through the years, and now, I understand what he saw. You have the potential to become something incredible. Not just a soldier.” His dark gaze sharpened. “A leader. A champion for St. George. I know this news comes as a shock and, believe me, I wish I didn’t have to deliver it. But Lucas wanted you to continue. Not only that, he wanted you to excel. To be the best there is.” Those piercing eyes softened, though his voice remained stern. “Do you understand?”
“You three, get out of here,” he ordered, scowling at the trio. “If this happens again, I don’t care who started it—you’ll be on kitchen duty for the rest of the year. Out!”
They scrambled to leave, but not before Matthews shot a last, triumphant smirk in my direction. Then they were gone, and Brother Eli turned to me again. I braced myself for the lecture, for my punishment, but the monk sighed and shook his head, his expression becoming grim.
“Here,” he said quietly, and pressed a handkerchief into my hand. “Clean yourself up, Sebastian, and follow me. The Headmaster wants to see you.”
Puzzled, I did as he said, washing the blood from my face before pressing the cloth to my nose. Brother Eli met me in the hall and silently motioned for me to follow. As I trailed him down the corridor, passing students and other classes still in session, apprehension warred with confusion. Why did the Headmaster want to see me? Had I done something wrong, other than the fight? Did he already know about the incident in the bathroom and want to punish me himself?
When we reached the Headmaster’s office, Brother Eli simply nodded for me to go in. Stuffing the bloody handkerchief in my pocket, I walked to the door and knocked twice, hearing the familiar “Enter” a moment later. I pushed back the door and saw Headmaster St. Julian standing before his desk with a man I’d seen once before, when I first arrived with Benedict. Like Brother Eli, both looked grave as they stared at me, and my heart started an irregular thud in my chest.
“Recruit Sebastian.” The Headmaster motioned me forward with a withered hand. “Please come inside.” I did as I was told and stood at attention before the desk, while the door creaked on its hinges and clicked shut behind me.
“At ease,” the Headmaster said, and I relaxed my posture, though everything inside me was still tense. The Headmaster nodded to the man beside him. “Sebastian, this is Lieutenant Gabriel Martin, of the Order’s Western Chapterhouse. I don’t believe you have formally met.”
“No, sir,” I replied, glancing at the lieutenant. St. George was a small organization and didn’t follow the structure of modern armies with tens of thousands of troops, but it was, in fact, an army. The lieutenants commanded the soldiers of the various chapterhouses throughout the country and were responsible for a unit’s training and general preparedness. Above them were the captains, and above them, the Patriarch himself.
The lieutenant smiled, but it was a tight, painful smile, as if he would rather be anywhere else. “If you’ll excuse us, Headmaster,” he murmured, and the other man nodded. Rising from the desk, he gave me a brief, unreadable look and left me alone with Lieutenant Martin.
I waited until the Headmaster had gone and the door had closed behind him, before turning to the lieutenant. “Am I in trouble, sir?” I asked quietly.
“No.” Gabriel Martin shook his head. “No, Garret, you’re not in trouble. Lucas Benedict was a good friend of mine. He’s the reason I’m here. He made me promise that if anything happened to him...” He paused, and in that moment, I knew what had happened. Why he’d come.
“Garret.” I heard Martin sigh. “Lucas Benedict...was killed last week in battle. He was in South America on a mission for the Order, and his squad was ambushed by the enemy. There were no survivors.”
My stomach dropped, and for a moment, everything inside me went numb. Benedict had never been a father to me, he’d made that clear himself. My whole life, all of our interactions had been strictly student to teacher, and he’d kept me at arm’s length with professional detachment, never getting too close. But he had always been there. And there were times when that mask would slip and he would look at me with pride. Almost with affection. It hadn’t been much, but it had been enough.
Now he was gone. For the second time in my life, I was an orphan.
It took several breaths before I could ask, “Was...was it the dragons?”
“Not directly,” Martin replied in a solemn voice. “The target they were looking for was not at the location, but it had left servants behind. Lucas was leading the squad when the ambush happened. He was shot and killed instantly.”
“So, it was Talon.”
“Garret.” Martin stepped forward, pulled up a chair and sat in it so that we were the same height. “Listen to me. I’ve known Lucas a long time. He was a good soldier and an excellent leader. When you first came to us and he took you in, I thought he was crazy. But I’ve watched you through the years, and now, I understand what he saw. You have the potential to become something incredible. Not just a soldier.” His dark gaze sharpened. “A leader. A champion for St. George. I know this news comes as a shock and, believe me, I wish I didn’t have to deliver it. But Lucas wanted you to continue. Not only that, he wanted you to excel. To be the best there is.” Those piercing eyes softened, though his voice remained stern. “Do you understand?”
