Some hours later, as the newly arrived slaves settled into their unfamiliar identities, Kaelor gathered with his closest circle in the lord's hall. The glow from the braziers lit their faces, Vi with her analytical poise, Hound like a statue of grit and stone, and Damien, whose mind was always racing with figures and strategy.
Mildred moved gracefully among them, pouring tea into earthenware cups, the scent of dried hibiscus and mint warming the air.
"Our next agenda," Kaelor began, his voice calm, "is to ensure every stretch of land outside the inner wall is blanketed in rice. That rice," he tapped a finger on the wooden table, "is our only route to power. With it, we gain wealth. With wealth, we purchase people. And with people, we build our dominion."
