Inside the office, the oil lamp's flame shrank slightly beneath an invisible pressure.
"...That's how things stand." Barrett clenched his right fist so tightly that his rough leather bracer creaked under the strain. "The settlers will only farm enough land to feed themselves. They won't lift a finger beyond that. And those hunters from Graymist Village are hopeless. They'd rather wander around the woods than touch a hoe!"
Old Walker's gaunt body stooped, and his deeply lined face crumpled as he spoke hoarsely. "My lord, my people are used to hunting for a day and resting for three... Making them tend the land is worse than killing them."
"Worse?" Barrett rounded on Old Walker, anger smoldering in his single eye. "They're just lazy! The settlers worked their backs off digging those irrigation channels, and your people went straight over to wash their feet in them! Two days ago, they nearly came to blows over water! Old Walker, keep your people in line!"
"Captain Barrett, that's not fair!" Old Walker's temper flared too. "Your people were the ones who called us 'lazy good-for-nothings who eat but never work' first!"
"Aren't you?"
"Enough."
Veylin's calm voice was quiet, yet it instantly dispelled the hostility between them.
His face expressionless, he looked at the vast expanse of white saline-alkali soil on the map, then at Barrett's and Old Walker's faces, flushed with shame.
The air was suffocatingly heavy.
"My lord, give me the authority to enforce discipline!" Barrett abruptly raised his head, his single eye gleaming fiercely.
"In the Fifth Legion, we had plenty of ways to deal with slippery cowards like these! Assign work areas every day. Put them in groups of three and have them watch one another! If they fail to finish, cut the entire group's rations in half! Anyone