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Hadith
Hadith stood behind Fewerth and Joshwan, tense as a spring with the blade in his hand. But the three were not at ease either. Only Joshwan seemed to have retained something of his outward calmness, even though Hadith could see the veins in his head to swell from tension. Guilledean, the youngest one of them who was a bit right from him started trembling quite visibly. He still had his sack behind his back.
Just as Hadith turned his eyes left from Guilledean to see Fewerth, he turned suddenly around and tried to make an escape. But Hadith was fast this time. Khamir had raised his hand with the daggers but Hadith was already blocking Fewerth’s way with his blade pointing to his chest.
“This time you don’t run anywhere before the thing is settled!” Hadith said almost calmly, but he couldn’t quite hide the excitement that was betrayed by his voice trailing up towards the end of the sentence. Still his posture and gaze, not to talk of the pointing blade, seemed to be convincing enough for Fewerth not to try any additional tricks. Fewerth took carefully a step backwards from Hadith’s blade but Hadith followed him, still pointing the tip of the knife towards his chest from just inches away. Fewerth tried a “only joking” –kind of a smile, but Hadith’s face stayed stern. After all Fewerth had done, not only this day but before too, Hadith was in no mood for joking.
Hadith was most afraid but felt triumphant at the same time. It was confusing and he had to do his best to keep his expression level. All the three were adults, two of them more than ten years older than he was. He had always had to look at them as his superiors, even though his mother had scorned them and their ways. But now the tables were turned, at least for a moment. Is this what it means to be free? To be what you are and not just obey the place given to you? He was even more confused.
Everyone was still for a moment. Hadith tried to have a picture of the whole situation glancing around without moving his head. Joshwan was still standing sternly but Guilledean was now shaking quite openly. Khamir seemed to be on the alert for anything around him, his hand with the throwing knives still raised up and ready.
Slowly Hadith said, loud enough to address all the three, but staring Fewerth straight into his eyes: “Khamir asked for Guilledean’s sack. Now show it!” With that he took a half step towards Fewerth so that the tip of the knife touched his shirt. Fewerth leaned back without moving his feet but Hadith followed his movement, keeping the tip pressed on his chest.
“Stop it, stop it you all! We don’t want to be left to the slavers and at least I don’t have any wish to die here from the hand of another refugee trying to make his living in this forsaken land as I do myself.”
It was Joshwan who spoke, loud and clear. He looked at Khamir earnestly, not glancing around to the others. “C’mon Guilledean, open it up!”, he said turning towards Guilledean. “And stop that shaking! Stand straight like a man!” Hadith knew Joshwan was a descendant of the famous pirates of Umbar. Now he could see some of the pride and self-assurance in Joshwan’s eyes he had always associated with the idea of pirates sailing free at the seas.
When Hadith was keenly following what happened, Fewerth tried to take a few unnoticed steps backwards just in case an opportunity presented itself for him to run away, but Hadith sensed the slight easing of pressure on his knife and was back on Fewerth in no time. “Don’t you try anything before this is over”, Hadith snapped to him. Now he was more confident than he had been before. He had been right and now it would be proved.
Guilledean took a few steps and brought his sack forwards, laying it to the ground in front of Khamir. With shaking hands he untied the knot and took the two blades out for everyone to see. The other was the one Khamir had thrown to Hadith but the other one was something Hadith had never seen so close before. He had seen elegant blades with some Easterling captains in the plantation, but from this distance it was even more impressive. It was beautifully crafted Easterling long knife, much longer than the normal ones he had seen. And it had a sheath that was decorated with all the splendour one could imagine; weaven figures and ornaments made with a silver thread on a dark red leather that had been strengthend with gleaming and beautifully carved pieces of metal. Hadith noticed himself gasping in awe.
“H-here they are. Don’t leave us to the Easterlings, please”, Guilledean mumbled and presented the blades to Khamir.
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