[quote=@persianversion]
Najla followed Ketill into the tent, just before the two militiamen, who had shot their hateful glares at her. The fact that his sword rested in one of their hands made her uneasy, though it was little to fear compared to the faces in front of her. The commander’s was a familiar one, as was his cruel stare. It was not him that frightened her, however. Najla followed Ketill’s orders, standing behind him with her head down and her lips shut, yet she peered through her lashes at the Sawarim.

He was not a familiar presence. This was comforting, for she knew any Sawarim she recognized would know her as Najla, not Saina. He was watching them curiously, and she did not blame him, as she knew they were likely an odd pair to witness. Still, his gaze meant that she could not study him for long, for as soon as his eyes moved off Ketill and onto her, she was made to avert her gaze before he could read the disgust in her face. He was a Sawarim sitting among Monarchists, plotting to harm his people. She had dealt with similar traitors before, weeding them out ruthlessly among her own infiltrators, and wished that she could deliver him the same fate. 

[i]Perhaps he’s wishing the same onto me.[/i]

A sobering thought, but only for a moment, as Najla assumed he would have had to renounce the Sawarim faith to be allowed among this expedition. She could think of, and had never seen, a crime greater. Those that renounced the faith had always been persecuted, even worse than those who had never held it. He would have been culled without question, perhaps ordered by someone like her. 

It was a pleasant thought, but she did not linger in it for long before the trial began. Lord Oliver’s voice seemed to calm her some, though she did not look up to see his face. He sounded empathetic, and for a moment Najla believed that they were ready to listen. When Ketill spoke, her orders were forgotten, and she looked up at him curiously. And as he said he had spent the money, her brow furrowed, and she began to think of all the purchases of the day, the way he had spent every silver he’d had for what she had assumed was a presentable slave. Apparently it had only been part of something greater.

Before she could understand his actions any more, the commanders yell dragged her out of her thoughts, and she winced as the guards took her by the arms, as one dug his fingers into her sore arm. She wanted to yell, struggle, but before she could think to do any of it, Ketill spoke, and she was frozen, nothing but horror written on her face.

Even when they let her go, she did not move. She couldn’t. She watched helplessly as Ketill raised his dagger, but did not close her eyes nor avert her gaze. The sound of the sudden slamming into the wood caused her to jump, and though it was the woman’s words that filled her ears, Najla was fixated on the man who had been about to cut off his finger. 

So when Ketill grabbed his sword and ducked out of the tent, Najla was close behind, ducking past the guards and out of the tent. She could sense the eyes of the men upon their retreating backs, but shock clouded her brain, and their stares just seemed unimportant now. 

[i]Savages. Barbarians, that’s all they are. Madmen. And I’m stuck in a camp full of them. [/i]

She could think nothing else but this, her mind still wrapped tightly in the horror. It was written clearly in her face, in her wide eyes and confused expression, but her thoughts remained an endless string of insults, horrified at the type of God that made the loss of a finger holy, and the brutes that followed him.

She ducked into the tent just after Ketill, the alarm still obvious on her face. She froze as soon as she saw him, leaving her standing by the entrance to the tent, obviously no longer worried about looking down. Her eyes were fixed firmly on him, and a frown quickly wrinkled her brow, her lips remaining parted as if she was still in shock. Had their positions been any different, she might have looked like she was angry, but Najla truly felt more frustrated than anything.

[i]“I-”[/i] She found her tongue halting, and she could only shake her head, moving towards the pile of furs that had been her bed. She sat down once more, or collapsed rather, leaving her elbow on her knees and her chin in her hands. It seemed she wanted to find the words to speak, or reply to her master at least, but she could not bring herself to push out the words. 

Najla felt frustrated, and foolish. She had been ready to deal with these people as she had the Sawarim. Ready to draw pity with her bruises, to listen to Ketill’s story and tell her own, if need be. She had not been ready to be pushed into a crowd of beasts both offering and demanding flesh. It seemed that despite all her travels and her time in Broacien, she hadn’t begun to understand these people. [i]If they could be called such.[/i]

She peered up at him again, though there was little to read in her expression now. He had mentioned dinner. She was hungry, the days march had made her tired and though Lord Jachsen kept his slaves well-fed, it simply hadn’t been what she was used to in her time as Najla. She would likely want it tomorrow as well, she was certain she did not want to collapse on their travels there. Yet as she glanced over to the finger he had almost lost, she felt no hunger. 

[i]“I have no appetite, my lord, but I will fetch you some if you wish.”[/i]

It was likely a statement she’d regret, either if it meant she didn’t eat or if he ordered her out into the camp, yet Najla knew she meant it now. However, she had made certain to address him properly this time, as it seemed the guards grasp on her arm had reminded her of his earlier warning. His warning about straying from his tent already seemed to be true, and Najla did not want to risk the others. Not now, when the words of the quartermaster were starting to clear through the haze of shock.

[i].......we need Ketill to fight the Sawarim once we get to their lands.[/i]

Najla had never been told where the expedition was headed, and though she had seen that they were moving south, the knowledge that she would soon be in her own lands again brought upon a hope. All she'd have to do was stay alive somewhat longer, and though it had been made slightly more difficult now, it was not impossible. She could be home again soon. 
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