He learned which merchants were hoarding grain, which guards were drinking on duty, and which dock captains seemed suddenly anxious.
Nothing explosive or dramatic, but Pax grasped something fundamental: power rarely announces itself; it builds quietly like water pooling behind a dam.
One evening, standing alone in the courtyard after the fires had died down, Pax looked at the chalk mark he had drawn days before. Rain had blurred its edges slightly, but it remained visible.
The weight of responsibility settled more firmly on his shoulders
-------
Pax quickly realized that hunger was the simplest problem to solve.
Feed a person, and they would listen. Feed them consistently, and they would stay. But transforming mere survival into competence? That was a different challenge altogether.
Each morning, the twenty he had selected gathered in the courtyard after their soup, sitting on overturned crates, broken stools, or simply on the stone floor.
