Back on the Radeon Terraces arena, the ones who had won big drifted toward the banks with their sacks held tight.
They deposited fast on Radeon Bank, eyes moving, mouths closed.
In Radeon Terraces no one dared make trouble.
It was not Eldric alone.
People were beginning to understand what necromancy meant when it was done well.
A skeleton of stone that moved at an owner's whim, patient as a tool, and the leash on it might last centuries, might last longer.
The thought made men feel two things at once.
Fear, because no one wanted to be reduced to that fate. Some would not even wish it on an enemy.
Relief, because it turned rebellion into stupidity. If you tried to hamper the Terraces, you were not being brave.
You were being meat volunteering for the grinder.
Merchants still wracked their brains over it. Radeon Terraces made money in every direction without squeezing a single market into monopoly.
That was why the city lords nearby felt oddly grateful.
