Saleos did not speak at once.
He studied Ragnar the way a commander studied terrain before committing troops, slow, deliberate, letting the silence stretch. Ragnar stood easily with his club planted on the floor, relaxed but grounded, like a mountain that did not need to announce its weight.
After a few breaths, Saleos spoke.
"Do you understand what it means to stand at my right?" he asked.
Ragnar considered the question. "It means you put me where things go wrong first," he said. "Where pressure gathers. Where decisions matter."
Saleos nodded slightly. "And where deaths are counted."
Ragnar met his gaze. "That too."
Saleos stepped closer. His presence pressed down, hot and sharp, the weight of countless battles behind it. Ragnar did not shift.
"My right commander does not chase glory," Saleos said. "He does not abandon positions for a good fight. He does not burn everything just because he can."
