The tent vibrated gently in the night wind. The ropes creaked, the leather flapped like stretched hide, and every breath coming from the valley reminded me that outside, thousands of men slept... because they knew I was watching.
I was alone. Sitting in front of the map stained with wine and blood, my elbows resting on the table, my eyes lost in the black lines that marked our conquests. The heavy silence was broken only by the discreet crackling of embers at the bottom of the brazier.
A few months. Fuck, barely a few months. And already, the desert had changed its face.
I thought back to the first tribes. Those arrogant female dogs, convinced that their power over the males would last forever. They ended up on their knees, their thighs slit or their throats slit, depending on their usefulness. Then came the forced alliances, the first coalitions crushed, the Gorge transformed into a single body vibrating at my command.
