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Chapter 120. The Council of Roots
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2025-12-16 08:31:52The first crash wasn't thunder. It was Lord Brayden’s fist against oak.
“Farmers and miners deciding rights?” His jowls trembled. “Shall we have horses vote on stable management next?”
At the far end, Borin didn’t rise. Just leaned in, the table groaning under his forearms. “My lord. In the year since the poisoning—how many times did you go down? Not to count silver. To breathe what your men breathe.”
Brayden’s face purpled. “The mines produce—”
“Silver. Iron. And gunpowder.” Borin’s voice was gravel in a still room. “Saltpeter caves. Sulfur pits. Charcoal kilns. The waste from
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