He felt Fenn’s admiring gaze but did not break his own from the man before them.

“With that, I think we’re finished,” Fenn decreed.

The man glared at Tedrey, he shifted his glare to Fenn, then he stated, “I’m on record as feeling we should hold, for a time, examine what has happened, what was gained, what was lost, and only move forward when we have a solid plan that has a much larger hope of succeeding than the last three.”

“We killed Mercy,” Fenn pointed out.

“To what gain?” the man asked. “I still don’t know the point of that except to agitate a slew of Dellish against us.”

Fenn at first had no response, and Tedrey knew why this was as well.

Mercy’s death was Fenn’s plan.

And if it carried on seeming as it seemed, faulty, it would be Fenn who would have to answer for it.

They couldn’t possibly recruit more followers through assassinations and subsequent executions.

At least, not in Wodell.

Now, in Firenze…

“Mercy’s death was meant to further destabilize that regime,” Fenn muttered, not sounding as keen about that strategy as he once was.

“And instead, our agent was found out, Wilmer has stepped down, and we were counting on him to pave our way with his incompetent rule. Thus, in the end, what we’ve done is put a strong, beloved leader on the throne,” the man pointed out.

“Again, that was unforeseen,” Fenn returned through his teeth.

“A good deal has been unforeseen, Fenn,” the priest retorted. “Too much. Those who follow us will begin to think we’ve no idea what we’re doing. And frankly, I don’t blame them.”

The two men scowled at each other, but Fenn did not deign to reply to the soldier’s last comment.

“I’m on record,” the man repeated.

“So noted,” Fenn sighed.

More scowling was shared before the priest sent them both a dismissive glance, turned and stomped out of the room.

Fenn sighed again.

Tedrey weighed his next words before he stated quietly, “He is not wrong to be angry.”

Fenn’s, “I know,” came out on a resigned breath.

“Mars returns, Lorenz shared that with me,” Tedrey told him something he’d already shared. “He should be home in but weeks. He’s likely already on his way.”

“Yes,” Fenn murmured.

“We need cohesion, Fenn,” Tedrey urged, ever attempting to appear loyal to the cause, but in truth, wishing to delay further offenses in the hopes of saving lives. “Our operations are in disarray. Perhaps a summit? The generals amassing to come to an agreement on a plan that can be carefully crafted before its carried forward?”

He kept his gaze keen on Fenn. His hope, in bringing up what he would say next, Fenn might share some things that Tedrey was not privy to, he dropped his voice and carried on.

“At the very least we need time to allay what are sure to be the fears of our followers, not to mention, recruit more. We’ve lost a good deal. I know not how many we have, but the loss in the attack on Catrame Palace alone numbered at least a hundred. I have heard murmurings about how those losses meant others in Firenze abandoned the cause. And that was before all that happened in Wodell.”