The silence that followed was deafening. Every head swiveled in his direction, surprise and intrigue battling for dominance on their faces. All except Grant and Cecil, that is. Their expressions were a chilling mix of shock and something else—fear perhaps.
Ruck, as if oblivious their stares , strolled to the side of the hall. "Please, go on," he said, his voice surprisingly light. "Don't let me distract you." He leaned against the wall, the massive sword a dark counterpoint to his casual posture.
Slowly, reluctantly, the recruits turned back to the front. Grant attempted to resume his speech, his voice cracking slightly. "So, that's why..." he began, his hand clenching and unclenching at his side.
