[quote=@Odin]
[i]“Is that so?”[/i] Ketill mused as she answered him about the decision between life and death for her, her surrender to the slaver implying she'd die much the same way. [i]“You haven't seemed to be too preoccupied with your own health. I have little reason to care for yours more than I have already,”[/i] he'd add, and found himself believing the words despite heir harshness. If she was hellbent on getting into situations that nearly killed her, why was he expected to suddenly care? And if what she said was true - that she could give him more - then the question was just how much. But, that would imply also that Ketill was looking for wealth. In fact, he found himself caring very little for that. It was worthless on the day of judgement in the eyes of the Monarch. That was all he cared for - not for any amount of money in the world would he have entered in this expedition, but for the Monarch? Anything for the Monarch, even his life.

Her next words, however, were very telling. That she was not a merchants' daughter was not news - she had no skills, knowledge or mannerisms that a merchant would have. He had assumed it was a cover for herself, a way to make herself seem more important and avoid being captured. Despite it not working, he'd assumed that she kept up appearances despite that. But it being a cover for something like this was unexpected. His eyes rested on her as he processed the information, what it meant, and how it'd affect him and the expedition. She was an asset - no, she was also a danger. If anyone else knew, there'd be trouble. 

As she finished her speech, he remained quiet, looking her in the eyes while he crossed his hands over each other, more or less holding onto his own hand. Tension filled the air slowly with every passing moment of silence before he finally spoke up. His lips slowly formed the hint of a smile, looking at her with slight disbelief playing in his eyes. [i]“There were rumours,”[/i] he slowly said, thinking back to his time in Coedwin. They'd heard that the niece and cousin of the sultan were missing. He'd not expected them to end up in Broacien, though. They just expected them to.. have found the sharp end up a sword in the political intrigues of the Sultanate. [i]“Though why you would enter Broacien is beyond me. You never swore off your faith, that much I know, because you do not act like the slaver.”[/i] 

Though it seemed unremarkable, Ketill knew full well that a Sawarim that didn't swear off the faith would, ultimately, end up dead in Broacien. If not worse, captured. Perhaps that part had been true. Looking back, she might have been lucky to end up with the expedition - under his command, even. She was in the desert again. If she was lucky she'd find her way back home - if he allowed it, at least. She seemed more trouble than she was worth at this point and perhaps, out of pure logistical reasons, he'd have let her go. But now that it was revealed she was in fact, more or less a princess of the Sultanate, well, it'd be harder than that.

[i]“Your brother is not with us. Unless you lied about that, too, though I'd find little reason for that. He is.. somewhere else then. Still in Broacien? Dead? Worse?”[/i] The question was without tact, but she had given him little reason to warrant any tact whatsoever. She did not seem the kind that cared for that - much rather, she'd probably demand tact from him if she was given the chance. But she was a slave, and thus without such a power. 

[i]“But you're right, after all, you can not convince me. We will see how the wheel turns, and when it does, we will find out who you are. We leave the fort today. I will not sell you, but you have some explaining to do - [b]to me[/b]. None else might hear of who you are, or rather, claim to be. Get ready to travel. I have arranged a horse for you, so you can ride yourself. We will travel fast, and we will use one of the slaves from the slaver as a guide. Furthermore, we will avoid any Sultanate soldiers that we find. We're here for a banner, not a war. So, I am sure you can imagine why I want to keep your supposed identity a secret. We'd hardly want to have the sultan find out that his beloved niece was degraded to nothing less than a slave. That would hardly be a convincing argument for you, however. So I'll let you go then with the knowledge that, if anyone finds out you're a princess of the sultanate, you'd be dead before nightfall, if not by the hands of the commander, then by the hands of the Servants. Not all of them are as understanding as the Hochmeister, nor the bishop. Your kind is not loved here. Go, pack your things.”[/i]

In truth he had had half a mind to stab her down where she stood - she was adding piles upon piles of trouble on his already troubled mind. Two trials, one for murder, and then she turns out to be a princess. None would question why he did it - perhaps the bishop would. If it had not been for the bishops order, he'd strongly have considered it. But alas.

[i]“Pack my bags too, and meet me outside by the stables. I'll prepare our horses.”[/i] He immediately left without saying anything more - an inconclusive ending perhaps to her revelation, but he'd found little else to say. Was he to believe her, or not? Was she spinning a trick to avoid being sold? The more Ketill thought about this the more he realized that, perhaps it didn't matter. Regardless of her previous position, she was a slave now, and regardless of how she felt about it, she would do as commanded, or die a lonely death in the desert.

Perhaps that was a savage way of thought. But Ketill was taken out of the North, the North still remained in him. Death was a fact of life - Najla now had her own choices to make. She could obey and live, or resist and see the bishops' order overturned in the desert at her next mistake. Time would tell.

He went down to the stables and saddled his own horse, while ordering a stableboy to find an extra free horse. He returned with a very dark, brown horse. It was obviously a Broacien breed, more strong and muscular than most Sawarim horses but obviously lacking in speed. The expedition would not be speedy, so this was not so much a drawback. The stableboy saddled the horse with a rather cheap saddle and then handed the reins to Ketill, who would lead the horses to the front of the castle, where he'd wait for Najla. Once she'd arrive, he'd take his bags and hook them to his saddle before looking at her one last time.

[i]“Do not think your 'position' in the sultanate will earn you many favors. You are still a slave. Best to remind yourself of that.. set your expectations low.”[/i]
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