"Which gods?" snaps the troublemaker, who has not yet moved from the foot of the stairs (and who is oblivious to Lance's presence). "The way I hear it, you Northerners have your pick of gods up there, don't you? So how do I know you're not bringing that heresy down here?" Now he places one foot on the first step, grasping the wooden railing.

The vicar remains very still, but he lifts his eyes to look beyond the soldier's head. He meets Lance's gaze. "Captain," he greets, just loud enough to make it clear that yes, this is the word.