With the hides of the command-tent flapping behind him like restless wings, Alpheo entered the council of war. Jarza followed closely, and with the giant's shadow cast over him, Alpheo appeared like a sapling grown beside an ancient oak.
Normally, he would have brought the others. They would have stood behind him like wolves. But tonight he came with only Jarza.
He could read the air,hot iron under thin water. One wrong phrase and the whole tent would hiss and spit. The others, bold and prone to head-on collision, would only rattle sabers. Jarza, sharper in silence than any of them in speech, was the man he needed for a room ready to boil without throwing wood into the fire, especially since he could serve as the water to put down fires.
The other may have been useful in a head-on clash of wills or steel, but they would have no qualms about setting up in ire if anything went against them or him.
