Sweat broke out upon Zygor’s brow. He bit gently on his lip before bowing low before Karnic.

“I am most grateful for this opportunity to serve our master,” recited Zygor.

Brakas looked puzzlingly at the two magicians. He did not understand what horrors were alluded to by assuming a clan lord, but he knew that Zygor was fearful. He could smell the fear emanating from the young magician.

“How will we get these clan lords to accept five thousand Jiadin?” Brakas asked.

“Zygor will tell them to expect some new warriors to bolster their ranks prior to their expansion,” explained Karnic. “By the time they realize the magnitude of the number of new warriors, it will be too late for them to do anything about it. The clan lords will be told to follow the instructions of the lord that Zygor chooses to assume.”

“Still,” Zygor interjected as he regained his composure, “twenty thousand men is not enough to conquer Khadora.”

“You do not need to conquer the whole country,” replied Karnic. “I have spent much time in Khadora since the Time of Calling began. We will use their own culture to defeat them, one small step at a time. Your four clans will slowly, but steadily, encroach upon your neighbors. When you devour an estate, annihilate the family of the clan lord and dissolve the clan. There will be no survivors to appeal to the Lords’ Council. You will gobble up half the country before anyone thinks to object, and by that time it will be too late for them to object.”

“You mean to grow the army by assimilating other clans?” nodded Brakas. “That is brilliant.”

“It is perfection,” nodded Karnic. “Brakas you will gather up the Jiadin that are required for this plan. Offer them whatever you wish. There will be gold aplenty when we descend on Khadoratung. In the meantime, there is food outside that you can use to gather the starving men.”

“If the free tribes get wind of this,” frowned Brakas, “they will come here and destroy our new armies.”