Page 2860

Caster kept a cool head, though. "Let us call it a day, shall we? Good discussions, everyone." Best to end things here before Paulie stuck his foot in his mouth again and got himself killed.

Caster stood up, and the others all gradually followed suit. There was nowhere to put their folding chairs, so they mostly just picked them up or left them where they were.

In the middle of this blown out gymnasium.

The missing roof, broken floor, shattered windows, and crumbling walls did not provide the most comforting atmosphere in the world, perhaps. But privacy was more important, and abandoned areas like this were great for that.

And of course, they were not normal men. They were not comforted by pristine surroundings. At the end of the day, despite their status as outliers, they were still men of destruction. Perhaps there was something soothing in this type of environment.

The beautiful calm of a devastated world.

Artful, Caster felt. More so than any painting, certainly.

They all went their separate ways. Those who belonged to the same sect probably didn't want to be seen returning to camp together. It would just draw needless attention to themselves.

Caster, for his part, didn't care so much about that anymore. He always had men in his sect or others hanging around him for one reason or another. Such was the life of a Judicator. People were always looking for someone to pass judgment for them on this dispute or that one.

Lately, he'd been swamped by arguing Raiders, all looking for someone to decide who got what spoils from the war. Killing each other over and over didn't accomplish much when they were in disagreement, especially when their reapers refused to risk their own lives getting involved. So they relied on the Judicators to sort everything out. Sometimes, violently. But always decisively.