There's a thought interrupted, as his gaze wanders back down to the maps, of compiling a list predictably free of names of Templars past or present—

A glance back up to meet Flint's, and if it occurs to Marcus that this insight might make a Templar a worthwhile asset to have in their number, it doesn't show on his face (or it doesn't occur to him). The nod he gives is slight and brisk but comprehending, and his hands move to collect up the pages and maps he will need, some to be returned, some to be taken with.

"I'll confirm a list today, tomorrow morning," he says, eyes back to his task. "Do you need more before we go?"