Khalad did not reply to Fidrohir's question, only shrugged his shoulders the best he could without losing the elf. He was examining the elf, and could easily tell from his clothing and appearance that he was important, not a common elf. But he could not guess more of his identity; the elves were rare in the south of Gondor, and he had never studied them much, nor interacted with the elves in the nearby woods.
"What do you reckon he was doing 'ere, by himself?" Fidrohir asked. "You are almost half-elf yourself, so you should know." he said it without of scorn, but it stung Khalad anyway; he knew these outlaws would never forget that he was very different from the rest of them.
"I do not know. But there is a war on the march, and I assume he is a part of it. There can be little doubt he is a warrior." Khalad did not bother to correct that the númenorians were not half-elven more than Fidrohir was, for he knew such details were lost on the big outlaw, whose use was in his strength and not his brain.
"Little doubt, eh, Khalad? Well, I have more than little doubt about you. Always playing with that sword of yours, are you. Not planning something dirty, are you?" Vlad snerred.
Khalad kept his silence. He knew Vlad was merely trying to insult him, and the best reply was to be silent. If he spoke again, Vlad would just use Khalad's own words to scorn him further.
He looked at the elf, and hoped that Vlad would keep him alive. Khalad missed the company of others than the outlaws, and the elf appeared promising. At least he would not scorn Khalad for his speech, or background.
[ July 22, 2003: Message edited by: Daniel Telcontar ]
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