[Daniel Telcontar]

Khalad helped to pack the small camp together, though it was done in silence. But despite no words were spoken, the tensions could easily be felt in the air. Snyd and Fidrohir hadn't noticed; but that was not surprise to Khalad, who suspected these two of having as much sensibility as the remains of the cow that Khalad was packing together for storage.

He thought of Jaheira; Khalad did not doubt she could feel the tensions, and she probably knew she was causing them. Not Melost, but her. The elf had done little to create problems, and only because of her, whereas she had not ceased creating trouble.

He turned towards the woman causing such mischief, and saw that her gaze was fixed om Melost and Vlad, who were engaged in conversation. He could not see her face properly, but he was certain that it was an expression of hate. Fury got hold of him, and he grabbed her arm and turned her around:

"What are you planning now, Jaheira? More poison in Vlad's ears, more talk of death?" Jaheira removed herself from his grip, and spoke with anger flashing in her eyes: "I am only trying to survive! Like all of us; before you came, Vlad was just like me. But you and that elf has turned him soft; and if I must, I will kill the elf."

Her words angered Khalad; though he knew she would not kill Melost, the mere mentioning of it made him mad, as well as her constant reference to Melost as "the elf", instead of his name.

"Vlad has turned soft, as you say, woman; he has developed feelings, ascended from the level of primitive animal instincts that possess you. Self preservation you call it; I call it the actions of a beast! You are not worthy to be a human. When I think of the women of my city, I find no resemblence between them and you!"

Jaheira was quick to reply. She had heard a few things about Khalad's past, and knew where to strike: "Ah yes, the women of your city. I have heard about them; wasn't it such a creature that caused your exile?" Khalad did not answer, determined not to allow her words to anger him further, but then she laughed an empty laughter and continued: "Ah yes, that is the truth, is it not? The truth you fancy folk of Gondor appreciate so highly. I hear it was your own sister... Though I can only imagine what you have done to your sister to make you an exile."

The words hit their mark. Khalad's sword was half out of its scabbard when Jaheira continued: "Ah yes, draw your sword. I know about it, about its inscriptions; Justice, it says. Well then, how befitting that you use it to kill a woman not defending herself, is it not?"

Jaheira spoke these words, believing Khalad would restrain himself before acting rashly; after all, he wasn't like Snyd or Fid. But she had gone too far to rely on his conscience.

His sword leapt out of its scabbard and was pressed hard towards her throat, so that a thin line of blood could be seen. She had been so busy enjoying his wrath she had been unprepared, and now she cursed her folly of allowing him to do this.

"One more word, and I swear it will be the last you utter." His eyes shone with madness, and though she would have loved to insult him further, she realised the situation wasn't right for it. Slowly, Khalad retreated his sword, but before removing it completely he spoke a final warning: "The next time you speak of my sister, I will not hesitate to thrust my sword forward; and I shall sleep with ease, knowing I have rid this world of a devil concealed as a woman."

A few seconds passed, where Khalad made sure Jaheira had noted the words; and then finally, he put the sword back in its scabbard.