---
After Raka left, Sekhmet did not move for a while. He remained standing near the strategy table and looked at the map without truly looking at it. The routes, store marks, market lines, and warehouse notes were all still there, but the board had changed. Until now, Iron House had been fighting like wounded traders with too much pride and not enough discipline. That was ugly, but simple. Now Mihos had sent real people. Not loud fools. Not hirelings trying to impress a richer man. Real hands. Quiet hands. That meant the next attack would not come with a threat shouted in advance. It would come in the form of confusion, delay, missing trust, and things that felt like accidents until the damage was already done.
