Cassian scanned the village—now crawling with cultists, their banners draped over the once-familiar rooftops. What had been farmland and quiet cottages had turned into the base of operations for the Karmen Earldom campaign. Smoke rose from dozens of cookfires, and the stench of sweat, blood, and scorched meat lingered in the air.
He estimated nearly ten thousand people here, though "people" was generous. A loose-lipped soldier he'd plied with cheap booze the night before had all but confirmed the number, chattering endlessly about the glory of the cult. From him, Cassian pieced together the rough picture of the group's inner structure.
