Leiland was never sure what the spymaster's game was when he started on like this. He was quite used to the support and reassurances of the other Vinguri. They were equally as frustrated with having no more idea of the location of their quarry than they had been initially and were consistently telling him that he was far, far too hard on himself when it came to justified failures. But they were also his subordinates, and there was a certain level of sycophantic expectation when it came to subservient ranks. Gogmawth expected it of Zaul'Nazh. Zaul'Nazh expected it of him. And while there was nothing in him that expected it of his fellow Vinguri, it was not unusual.
Percival, on the other hand, was his equal in all things. If anything, perhaps more elevated than himself at Zaul'Nazh's side for the virtue of not disappointing him repeatedly. There was no reason beyond one of his mind games that he would say things like this.
"She struggles in her interpretation. It is hardly as if Gogmawth wishes us to fail," Leiland half grumbled, even if there were some days when he wondered. But if he did, he would have hardly sent his own child here to oversee the forces. Leiland doubted her wanted to see her put to death by the Light. "But we found nothing. No kingdom, no ruins, not even the barest hint of a settlement that once was," Leiland said, shaking his head with a scowl. "The only positive in it was that there were no sign of the Forces of Light in the area, either, so if there was something there, they did not beat us to it."
He hoped. Oh, did he hope. He didn't think he could stand the idea of failing his master so desperately that he let them get their hands on the crown. Leiland was still seething over his last encounter with the Heroes of Light. A frying pan was not a weapon.