[quote=@Odin] Due to the negotiations, Ketill was left alone for the remainder of his time in the village until the deal had been sealed, and they would celebrate with new festivities. Although the first night had already been hellish, this one would prove to be setting up to be worse. Merely the presence of the envoys from the other group of people would be enough to raise festivities to a new level and Ketill had no doubt in his mind that he’d be a part of that. It did not come as too much of a surprise then when he was retrieved from the healers’ tent, late in the evening. The guards guided him outside and gave him a moment to stand still, looking at the horizon, where the sun was gently dipping underneath the sandy dunes. It would’ve been a beautiful sight in different circumstances, but all it did now was remind Ketill of how isolated they were. How impossible escape would be to him. Once the guards found they had given him enough time they gently pushed him further and continued towards the center of the festivities, near the fire. It seemed like they had not learned from their mistake the last time, and Ketill wondered if they’d ask him for another show with the fire present like that. Najla had warned him of that, after all. He was put more or less in the same location as last time, near the slaves that were not currently busy serving the others, close to the fire. It was perhaps the only enjoyable thing about sitting there, as despite the deserts harsh climate, the scorching sun made way for the cooling moon, and depending on the time of the year, you could very well freeze to death in some of the cooler places at night. Luckily it was not that time of the year yet, but even so with the sun settling slowly, he was happy that there was a fire. As usual, Ketill was ignored for much of the night until the men, and particularly the peasants, had had enough to drink to lift their bravery to a new level. Though they stood far away at first, they came closer inevitably, looking at Ketill and discussing among themselves. This went on throughout the night with new faces appearing and leaving at a whim, making way for others that wanted to see the Bear of Broacien and talk about him. <[i]‘’Go and prod him with that stick, Azir,’’[/i]> one of them said in a hushed tone, glancing at his friend with a grin. <[i]‘’Sure, and then he will rip my throat open like he did Yazan,’’[/i]> the man replied, not taking his eyes off of Ketill. <[i]‘’He is the Daab al-Broacien, right? Bears in cages get prodded with sticks all the time so that they will dance, you’ll be fine.’’[/i]> <[i]‘’I don’t see a cage.’’[/i]> <[i]‘’I guess it doesn’t matter, I’ve heard from some others that Thamud will tame the bear for good tonight. The Sultana, may the Sawarim bless her and her family, may have tamed the beast to do her command, but a beast will always be a beast. Thamud will put him down like the mangled dog he is.’’[/i]> <[i]‘’Is that so? That’s good.’’[/i]> Whether the men had wanted to continue the discussion or not was not really of importance, as they quickly scurried away when the Sultana herself made an appearance. She walked up while speaking his name, the accent thicker than before it almost seemed. Her face spelled books to Ketill and he did his best to suppress a grin. Her words, however, told him that there was no need to prepare for another inquisition as to why he did what he did. Thankfully Najla would not lecture him about the other fight, and would not tell him what to do – beyond some very specific instructions. When she spoke of the blade, Ketill was slightly confused. In his mind, this fight was only taking place to show Thamud the power of the Sultan. But this instruction spoke of far more than that. Before Najla could walk away, Ketill reached forwards and grabbed her wrist. [i]‘’I can fight until first blood, we’ve passed the point at which I will do what you tell me to for no reason other than your command. I don’t need a horse – I’ve walked the way here so I can walk the way back.’’[/i] From the corner of his eyes he could see the guards coming closer as a reaction to him grabbing her wrist, so he promptly let go and began getting up from his sitting position, standing up straight when the guards arrived. <[i]‘’Is everything okay, Sultana?’’[/i]> one of them would ask her, but Ketill didn’t worry about it, given that the fight was about to start. [i]‘’The harem girl that your brother granted me after our first fight – she visited me a few more times, and seems to be around whenever I went to practice with your brother. She will be my new servant. That’s my demand. It’s easy for you, no? A harem girl is a tool, after all. Like me. You can manipulate her to do what you want. After that, you give up on her, and won’t ask her to talk to you anymore. In exchange for…’’[/i] He did not finish his sentence, only looking over to the canopy where Thamud was standing, the last few straps of his armour being tightened by his brothers, who seemed more concerned than excited for this fight. Of course, it was only a fight until first blood, but the savage had ignored holy laws before – why would he follow the rules of a duel? They didn’t even know if Ketill understood anything that he was being told, the only evidence for that being that Najla claimed to have tamed him. Perhaps they had no reason to doubt her – but that did not mean much in the face of the possible death of their brother. [i]‘’… a life. That seems like a fair deal.’’[/i] Though it was posed like a question of sorts, it took more so the shape of a demand. Even though he’d fight if she denied him, she would likely have to deal with an even more annoying Ketill if she said no. The request for her not to talk to the girl anymore would go ignored – and that much Ketill knew – but Najla was equally stupid if she thought Ketill had no idea that Najla used whatever means she could to gain insight on how to control Ketill. Women were not the answer, however, and Najla would’ve likely learned that by now. When they were done, Ketill would begin approaching the fire, under the watchful eye of the spectators that were waiting for the same ritual to commence. But before he got to the center of the crowd, he was tapped on the arm. When he looked over to see who it was, he saw Basims face contoured by the light coming from the fire. Next to him stood one of Thamud’s brothers, who seemed concerned, but still maintained a stern and stoic look in his eyes. [i]‘’Prince,’’[/i] Ketill stated, waiting for an answer of sorts. [i]‘’This is one of Thamud’s brothers. He wanted to know how long you’ve been a soldier for. I told him that your prowess in combat would give him a hint, but he insisted that he had to know before he let his brother commit to the fight.’’[/i] Ketill glanced at the man again, trying to see just how nervous the man was. [i]‘’We fight to first blood. There is no risk. Why worry?’’[/i] Basim merely shrugged, either not knowing the answer or not finding the answer important enough to argue about. It was probably easier to just answer at this point. [i]‘’In the end they still see you as a savage. They probably don’t expect you to uphold the rules.’’[/i] Ketill looked away from the man’s eyes to his hands for a moment, folding his fingers together and stretching his hands then, the knack of his joints relaxing his hands a little, to prepare himself for the upcoming duel. He thought about what he would answer – he had not been a soldier for long, mostly spending his time as a knight or a Servant. He supposed that a Servant was a soldier in the broad sense of that word, but Ketill wondered if the Sawarim understood the definition of a knight at all. The systems were very different after all, even if they showed similarities at times. When he made up his mind, he glanced back at the man first and then at Basim. [i]‘’I’ve been a soldier for a long time, but I’ve been a warrior my entire life. Tell him I’ve fought for the king for four years to ease his mind. I’ll uphold the rules of the duel. There is a difference between religious laws and honour. Killing someone is easy – giving them an honourable death while maintaining your own honour is harder.’’[/i] [i]‘’Four years is too little. Thamud is not a guard – he’s a tribal leader. I’ll tell him eight, it’s more believable. I hope you’re right, about upholding the rules of the duel.’’[/i] Almost immediately, Basim translated to the man that Ketill had been a warrior for eight years, at which the man nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. [i]‘’I merely serve my purpose as a tool, no? That I fight honourably is not much of a question. Whether your sister does the same is a different question. You should ask her that.’’[/i] [i]‘’What do you mean?’’[/i] To this question Ketill gave no answer, instead directing his attention to the brother. Ketill bowed his head lightly, similar to how he had bowed his head for Basim before. [i]‘’My condolences.’’[/i] <[i]‘’What did he say?’’[/i]> the man asked Basim while Ketill walked away to the centre again, standing near the fire to prepare himself. Basim merely stared at Ketill’s back as he walked away, pondering to the meaning of Ketill’s words, absent mindedly answering the man. <[i]‘’He.. wished your brother good luck.’’[/i]> [hr] The ritual began soon enough and Ketill was, once more, left standing alone while everyone else around him kneeled. He looked around, but found no ravens this time – perhaps Audrun had not been interested in him tonight. It would make sense – although there was no teaching of the Allfather or Allmother that spoke out against poison, it was not typically considered a brave weapon. Audrun would have to forgive him this time, however, as it seemed to be out of his hands. When the ritual had finished, taking the same shape as it had last time, a man approached with a straight edged sword. He handed it off to Ketill, who swung it a few times to get a taste for the weight of the blade. Thamud was handed a curved sword of his own, and seemed to be getting ready for the initial assault. Almost immediately Thamud stepped forwards, seemingly having learned from the previous fight that if Ketill was given any chance to go on the offensive, there would be no chance to counter attack. But it seemed that he underestimated Ketill, as he rushed forwards blindly. All Ketill had to do with bring up his sword and hold it out towards Thamuds throat to stop the man from charging in. Luckily for Thamud, he stopped before impaling himself on the sword, to which one of his brothers called out from the crowd. <[i]‘’Patience brother, do not wish to kill yourself so soon!’’[/i]> The comment earned little more than a frown from Thamud, who took a step back, more carefully this time as he positioned himself to attack once again. Ketill similarly also stepped back, swinging the sword back to a ready position in front of him, waiting for the right moment to strike. The two circled around each other, slowly becoming entranced in the state of battle where everything else was filtered out as some sort of deafening sounds that were indistinguishable at this point. It seemed that the prospect of fighting to first blood had made the fight safer, but also meant that both sides were unwilling to strike first at the risk of opening themselves to an attack. It seemed to take several seconds before Ketill stepped forwards and slashed at Thamud with his sword, who deflected the strike with his own sword. The sound of metal against metal sounded and for a moment it seemed like the crowd would cheer them on, but the attacks continued from Ketill’s side, quickly swinging his arm around for a second strike before Thamud could do so himself. The two exchanged blows a few more times, until Ketill swung his sword at Thamud again, which was blocked rather well. But Thamud failed to account for Ketill’s fist that swung at him from the left, hitting him square in the nose. Thamud reared back, stumbling a little bit, and almost instantly put his hands toward his nose. He raised his hands afterwards, shouting triumphantly, <[i]‘’[b]no blood![/b]’’[/i]> The crowd seemed pleased but did not offer any encouragement as the fight continued quickly. Ketill did not offer Thamud much chance to recover, instead opting to finish the fight rapidly. He stepped forwards twice, making a swinging motion with his sword from left to right at first, then right to left, before using that momentum to swing through, arcing the sword over his head before coming down diagonally towards his shoulder. Thamud’s sword could not move fast enough to stop the blade and his body, likewise, did not move fast enough under the impression that he could block the strike. The blade connected with the area between his shoulder and neck, near the collar, where the cut went deep. It cut through what little armour had been protecting him there, and with a slicing motion Ketill pulled the blade through, making the cut even deeper. He was quite sure that he cut some of the muscles there, as Thamud dropped to one knee clutching his shoulder with one hand while the other hand hung awkwardly, the sword dropping from his hand. Thamud attempted to get up again, but promptly fell to a knee again as the blood flowed more heavily, looking up at Ketill with a mixture of anger and fear. Before anyone could intervene, Ketill approached him, his posture being entirely calm, his sword being dropped into the sand. With a firm grip, Ketill extended his left hand towards Thamuds face, pushing his face sideways so that he’d face the fire, before grabbing the back of his head, his fingers grabbing at the hair. For a moment it would’ve looked like Ketill would push him in just like he had Yazan, but rather Ketill kneeled down next to him and spoke to him. [i]‘’It’s a beautiful sight. I’ve been asked to spare your life. Don’t think I did that because I want to. Everything inside of me screams ‘’push him in.’’ But I can’t. I have something I need to do, and I can’t put myself in a position that would harm those things. Sadly, for you, as you will die soon. The fire would be far more... merciful, than the fate you are about to meet. May the desert swallow your bones and spit them out.’’[/i] When Ketill was finished he stood up and pushed Thamuds face away, before walking off towards the area where the rest of the slaves would be. His behaviour was quite disrespectful, but who would dare to stand up against him, as he was under the protection of the Sultana herself. Though she herself might have a few words for him still, but that was a matter for another time. With a grunt he let himself fall onto the sand, putting one hand behind him to lean on while he would watch as Thamud was carried away by two of his brothers, that hauled him towards the healers’ tent. Unbeknownst to Ketill was that she was complicit in this plan of Najla’s, so all Ketill could think was that the healer would likely be able to reverse whatever Najla had done to the blade. It bode badly for her if that was the case – but he doubted that anyone would suspect foul play. It seemed that the festivities died down after that, barely noticeable, but Ketill could see the difference in the air from the distance away from them. The only ones that seemed unbothered by the events that had taken place were the Banu Dunya, who seemed somewhat amused by Thamud’s loss, even if he had just granted them their request. Of course, they would hide their amusement, but they did not seem as annoyed with the outcome as some of the other tribals. But Ketill thought they had no reason to be unhappy with his loss – they were not part of this tribe, they did not hold Thamud in high regards, and despite his cessation, they likely still disliked Thamud. At least… that is what Ketill would do. If he had been the leader of the Banu Dunya he would have gone to war. Sultan be damned, nobody would cross his honour. [hr] Ketill was not bothered through the rest of that night, except for some angry men that demanded he apologize for his behaviour in the fight. They were quickly dissuaded from pursuing this demand by one of the guards nearby however, who warned them that Ketill might be under the Sultana’s control, but that she had not given him explicit orders not to harm anyone. Whether the guards knew this, or were just trying to avoid an escalation, Ketill could only guess. They would leave the next day. Ketill was not asked to help with the packing, and since they travelled lightly and some of the slaves did not even sleep in a tent, it wasn’t a large task altogether. Though he had exchanged the favour of a slave in favour of a servant of his own, he would not complain, merely taking his place at the back of the caravan of people after all the farewells and goodbyes had been said. Ketill would not be present for them either – so, he had no idea if there was a similar ritual for them as the welcome. Probably there was – it seemed like the Sawarim paid great attention to make sure every ritual was carefully executed, which ended up being quite a time consumer. But when they got moving, they really got moving, and the pace picked up quite rapidly. Ketill occupied his mind mostly by focusing on his walking, which was better an occupation than to wonder how far they still had to go. It was some time into the march before he heard a familiar voice next to him, slightly above him even. [i]‘’Ketill,’’[/i] the young voice said, and as Ketill looked up he covered his eyes from the sun, only to see Basim riding on a horse next to him. The horses presence had been entirely unnoticed to Ketill, who perhaps had been a little bit too much focus on keeping his pace. [i]‘’You kept your promise.’’[/i] Ketill lowered his hand and looked down at his feet again, slowly trudging through the sand while the prince sat comfortably on his horse. [i]‘’You sound surprised that your pet bear managed to listen well enough to not kill him,’’[/i] Ketill answered him, somewhat annoyed by the notion that Ketill would not keep the promise whatsoever. [i]‘’Of course I did. Whether I killed him there mattered very little in the grand scheme of things.’’[/i] Ketill was still unsure whether or not Basim knew about the poison, but he also felt no need to play stupid around the boy. [i]‘’Did you come to see me for a reason?’’[/i] Ketill then asked, rather directly to the point. He did not possess the patience today to play games, it seemed. Basim did not answer immediately, merely looking into the distance across the sandy dunes. [i]‘’It’s… nothing. Perhaps you could tell me more about your Gods. Evidently they gave you strength.’’[/i] Slowly he turned back to face Ketill, who still kept his eyes averted downwards. By now the sweat was dripping down his face from the pace, and he did not exactly have a cloth to protect his head against the heat. [i]‘’You’ve got it wrong. They give me no strength. The gods don’t deal in gifts.’’[/i] [i]‘’What do you mean?’’[/i] [i]‘’The gods have no interest in giving us things. We have to work for what we have. I suppose the best way to put it is that we earn their favour by working hard and living how they want us to live. But even that isn’t entirely true.’’[/i] [i]‘’You mean there are no blessings?’’[/i] [i]‘’Not in the same way that you might know them. Audrun will never bless a person himself. He will change the situation at times – give you a son, or take the life of a foeman, but never will he outright bless you. Each must prove his worth. A blessing would only skew the balance.’’[/i] [i]‘’That… makes sense.’’[/i] [i]‘’Then there is his wife, Gidja. She is favoured among the elderly. It seems she takes care of them. If you are weak and cannot prove your worth to Audrun in battle, you have to be sagacious and prove your worth to Gidja – she will reward the wise and sagacious with many sons and daughters, a fertile seed and a long life.’’[/i] Then, Ketill looked up at the sun, covering his eyes with his hands as he gestured towards the sun. He then lowered his hand towards the horizon where the dunes laid, silent as always, his fingers tracing the movement that the sun would make as it set, to make place for the moon. [i]‘’Once, Audrun sent a man in a chariot across the sky, with a rope tied across the sun. This man we call Sól, and in exchange for his service to Audrun he was given eternal life, so that he can ride across the sky forever to see the world in its splendour. But Gidja found that when the man was across the horizon, the world became dark again and mankind was unable to work well in the darkness, so she did the same as her husband, and selected a woman to ride in her own chariot, with a rope tied around the moon. This woman had no desire to see the world, however, but had fallen in love with Sól when he was just a man, before Audrun chose him.’’[/i] He extended another arm towards the other horizon on his left, and mimicked the movement of the moon, chasing the sun across the sky. [i]‘’Her name is Máni, and she is stuck in an eternal chase of her lover. She too was given immortality by Gidja, as a reward for her service. But, not to worry, their love is not a sad tale. When the moon and the sun go across each other, and the moon blocks the light of the sun, it is said that they meet and make love, before Sól chases off again on an adventure and Máni is left behind, chasing her lover once more.’’[/i] Ketill had given Basim quite a lot to think on, so it remained quiet for a while. Ketill mostly trudged on through the sand, attempting to ignore his tired feet, while Basim mostly seemed lost in thoughts. After some time he finally spoke up again, seemingly not entirely satisfied with what he had been told so far. [i]‘’And if you die, when you die, what happens?’’[/i] [i]‘’That depends on how you die.’’[/i] [i]‘’In your sleep?’’[/i] [i]‘’You will be judged by Gydja and Audrun, who will determine your worth at the sum of all your actions. If you are a good man you will go to Gydja’s fields, where you will live and perform tasks for Gydja. Mostly, you will be required to give counsel and share your wisdom. If you are a bad man, you will go to Hel, where you will become slave of the chaos and the Jötunn trolls. This is not bad, it’s just… different. Sorcerers, witches and other people that deal with darker spirits and beings often draw power from Hel to perform their magics. Anyone that is neither good nor bad will simply fade and cease to exist – the only way you will continue to exist is under the memory of your name and your sons and daughters.’’[/i] [i]‘’And in battle? What happens then? It seems like that is the best way to die for someone that follows your gods.’’[/i] [i]‘’Perhaps – if you die in battle and fought bravely, and with honour, you will go to Sjeahalle, to do battle forever against the others, every day. However, it is a great honor, and you will never grow tired or get wounded, and the fights are merely meant to hone your skills to prepare for the oncoming fight against the chaos from Hel.’’[/i] [i]‘’So… how do you view honour?’’[/i] This gave Ketill reason for pause. He had always acted honourably, but never given thought to ‘’what it meant’’ to be honourable. He supposed he had always acted that way out of instinct, but he tried to put it into words regardless. [i]‘’You must work hard, for everything that you do. Audrun favours the brave and the wise, so you must think well, and be wise about your actions. You must take what you want, because the gods will not give you it. You must not steal without the knowledge of their owner – but when you kill to take an item, that is fair, and you have earned the spoils of combat by working for them. You must be hospitable to one another, and offer a weary traveller shelter if you can, and share with him bread and drink, but always be weary, for not everyone is as noble as they seem. Live your life like Audrun would, and you are certain of a position at his side. But for this… you need the knowledge of Audrun’s life. I suppose that it would make little sense to you without thse tales, and they are too long to tell them now.’’[/i] [i]‘’I… see. Thank you for telling me, Ketill. I would offer to give you a chance to worship your gods but… I don’t know how you even worship.’’[/i] [i]‘’By fighting well.’’[/i] [i]‘’That’s something that I cannot hel-’’[/i] [i]‘’It’s probably best. You shouldn’t speak about this to anyone. The other types of worship we perform are… different from yours. People would be scared. Besides, the worships aren’t mandatory, they’re just to ask for help or an omen. I’ve got no need for them now.’’[/i] [i]‘’I see. I’m sorry, but I must go now. I wish to speak to my sister about-.. about the journey.’’[/i] Basim managed to cut himself off before spilling too much details about the conversation he wanted to have, perhaps being a bit too lost in thought to realize what he was saying. [i]‘’I’d rather avoid her, but do as you please.’’[/i] With a slight nod, Basim rode off towards the front of the caravan again, where he’d go to find his sister. As for Ketill, he merely kept walking, focusing his energy on walking without having to think about his tired feet. He wondered if exchanging the horse for the servant girl had been worth it, and for a moment he doubted his choice – no, he’d doubt it all the way to the Golden City. Not a single woman was worth a horse to Ketill at that point. The way ahead was long and seemed to take almost twice as long as it did before - the group didn't even have to take shelter against sandstorms, but never the less lost a great deal of time when one of the slaves had managed to let go of the reins of an extra horse that was being taken with them, and the horse had ran away. One of the guards was sent after it to retrieve it, and they were forced to wait almost an hour before the man returned with the horse. But after a few days worth of travel, interrupted by merely a few moments to rest, the Golden City was finally within eyesight again. A good thing too, since Ketill's flask of water had began running out of water. But now that they were back, it would be a waiting game to see just what would happen next. While the rest of the slaves were sent to unload the tents and other goods, Ketill was simply sent back to his room until further notice - which was a welcome privilege, since he was tired from the trip, and desired to rest before Najla bestowed a new task onto him. [/quote]