the same group have a new one that is terrible at what they are both good at. This can make the new ones hate their parents. I know that a new one actually killed their parents because they didn't want to work the harvest.
Even though everyone can sit where they want to, if you are a leader, it is expected that you sit at the head table. The head table is different than the others. All of the other tables are long, and can seat many people at them. The head table is square. Each leader has a pair of people from their own group sitting to their right, and to their left.
The people that sit at a leader's sides are there to protect them. They also act as advisors, and only pass along important information or questions. There are many times when one leader has a question for another leader, and the information is already known by the advisors. This saves a lot of time, and allows the leaders to eat.
You must pick your advisors carefully though, because they can provide bad information, or form alliances without your knowledge. In the past, there have even been advisors that set up their leaders to fail, so that they could take their place. When that happens, it seems that someone always dies. Whether it is the old leader, or the lying advisor.
I get my stew, and take some warm bread to go with it. I walk slowly to the head table and notice that it is full, except for Lagan's old seat, the seat between Helm and Mast. They keep their eyes fixed on me as I walk up and sit down. I grab the cup in front of me and fill it with water from a pitcher. Taking a drink, I look around the table.
The leader to my right is Crook, to my left is Vault, and straight across from me is Chaff. Crook and Vault both smile at me as I look at them, but Chaff completely ignores me. While he picks apart his meal, I stare at Chaff's bald spot. Dark, curly red hair runs from ear to ear, around the back of his head. He fills his face with food, acting like nothing has changed. That is fine, let him think that I am beneath him, that I am unimportant.
I decide to do the same to him, show no fear or concern. Pretend that he doesn't even exist. I have found that bullies hate being treated the way that they treat others. It is the surest way to get their attention. So I raise my cup to Crook, and nod my head, then do the same to Vault. Both return the nod.
I have shown respect to both of them, and gave no respect to Chaff. It is funny that I work so hard to stay alive, yet I seem to do things that will most definitely get me killed.
It works though. I catch out of the corner of my eye Chaff looking at me, murder in his eyes. I ignore him and start eating my stew. I know that I have just made an enemy. But I would rather have an enemy in front of me than one trying to kill me from behind. He would have been my enemy no matter what, because I despise him and his sons.
Sickle and Scythe, his sons, are also his advisors. They look at me with the same disgust I feel for them. I am sure that they are both unhappy that I've become a leader before they have. They are no less dangerous than Chaff himself, but they aren't as smart as Chaff. They will never be as good as their father at manipulation and control.
Sickle is shorter and thin, with stringy black hair. His barely grown moustache makes him look like the rats that sometimes hide in the Crag. Scythe is tall and thick of arms, legs and head. His mouth is always open, and I can only guess how many flies have climbed into it, looking for a home.
I smile at each of them, a fake looking smile, so that they know I don't really mean it. Sickle's eyes narrow, and Scythe's brow wrinkles in anger.
Halfway through the meal, Helm rises from his seat.
Helm stands very tall. He is a wall of muscle. His skin is very dark compared to mine, as if he had spent his entire life in the sun. It reminds me of the beautiful, deep shades of tree bark. He wears his beard clean on his cheeks, full around his mouth, and a thumb's
Even though everyone can sit where they want to, if you are a leader, it is expected that you sit at the head table. The head table is different than the others. All of the other tables are long, and can seat many people at them. The head table is square. Each leader has a pair of people from their own group sitting to their right, and to their left.
The people that sit at a leader's sides are there to protect them. They also act as advisors, and only pass along important information or questions. There are many times when one leader has a question for another leader, and the information is already known by the advisors. This saves a lot of time, and allows the leaders to eat.
You must pick your advisors carefully though, because they can provide bad information, or form alliances without your knowledge. In the past, there have even been advisors that set up their leaders to fail, so that they could take their place. When that happens, it seems that someone always dies. Whether it is the old leader, or the lying advisor.
I get my stew, and take some warm bread to go with it. I walk slowly to the head table and notice that it is full, except for Lagan's old seat, the seat between Helm and Mast. They keep their eyes fixed on me as I walk up and sit down. I grab the cup in front of me and fill it with water from a pitcher. Taking a drink, I look around the table.
The leader to my right is Crook, to my left is Vault, and straight across from me is Chaff. Crook and Vault both smile at me as I look at them, but Chaff completely ignores me. While he picks apart his meal, I stare at Chaff's bald spot. Dark, curly red hair runs from ear to ear, around the back of his head. He fills his face with food, acting like nothing has changed. That is fine, let him think that I am beneath him, that I am unimportant.
I decide to do the same to him, show no fear or concern. Pretend that he doesn't even exist. I have found that bullies hate being treated the way that they treat others. It is the surest way to get their attention. So I raise my cup to Crook, and nod my head, then do the same to Vault. Both return the nod.
I have shown respect to both of them, and gave no respect to Chaff. It is funny that I work so hard to stay alive, yet I seem to do things that will most definitely get me killed.
It works though. I catch out of the corner of my eye Chaff looking at me, murder in his eyes. I ignore him and start eating my stew. I know that I have just made an enemy. But I would rather have an enemy in front of me than one trying to kill me from behind. He would have been my enemy no matter what, because I despise him and his sons.
Sickle and Scythe, his sons, are also his advisors. They look at me with the same disgust I feel for them. I am sure that they are both unhappy that I've become a leader before they have. They are no less dangerous than Chaff himself, but they aren't as smart as Chaff. They will never be as good as their father at manipulation and control.
Sickle is shorter and thin, with stringy black hair. His barely grown moustache makes him look like the rats that sometimes hide in the Crag. Scythe is tall and thick of arms, legs and head. His mouth is always open, and I can only guess how many flies have climbed into it, looking for a home.
I smile at each of them, a fake looking smile, so that they know I don't really mean it. Sickle's eyes narrow, and Scythe's brow wrinkles in anger.
Halfway through the meal, Helm rises from his seat.
Helm stands very tall. He is a wall of muscle. His skin is very dark compared to mine, as if he had spent his entire life in the sun. It reminds me of the beautiful, deep shades of tree bark. He wears his beard clean on his cheeks, full around his mouth, and a thumb's
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