"Religious wars are always popular," says the jaded former knight who fought in a few, sometimes for his faith and in the end for profit and vengeance. "I'm becoming more familiar with your world history - the closest comparison to the church I grew up in is your Catholic one. We even had something somewhat similar to the Crusades."

Rendor is hot, dry and full of madmen if you ask Martel - he doesn't really have fond memories of the place. It was beautiful, and he has opinions about conversion by the sword (it's stupid), but he doesn't think of it affectionately. At least he's hundreds of years too young to have fought in the earliest wars there, the ones he compares to the Crusades.

"But, yes, speaking of religious wars. In the shortest version, I led the wrong side of one and my brother killed me to end it." Henry is...correct to doubt his nonchalance, because he's really not; it's just that he can't pretend it didn't happen, and it's so much easier than feeling it every time.

(He knows it's only in his mind, but his chest aches.)

"It's an interesting position to know, with your own hands, that the gods exist - and then to lose your faith. The knowledge remains."