[quote=@Odin]
After the journey Ketill was left to his devices for the first time in what seemed to be ages. Purely the fact that he had to sleep in that healer woman’s tent had been a strain on him, so being able to return to ‘’his’’ bed in ‘’his’’ private room on the side of the castle that peered out over the vast expanse of desert… it was a pleasure that he’d never expected to find within the confines of his captors. Not that they resembled anything close to captors at that point – he was a slave, yes, first and foremost he’d always remain a slave until the ravens prophecy came true. But second, he was a guard dog. And though his loyalty was questionable, his position as a ‘’beast’’, ‘’the Bear of Broacien’’… all of it came together to form a nearly impenetrable defense against those that would seek to tear him down from his position within the court, as minimal as that position was. Indirectly, the ‘’honour’’ of being a slave of a sultana meant that he was above even a citizen of the city, even if they’d never acknowledge as much. It was a dual nature, being above them and below them at the same time. A very strange thing. But not one that he objected to.

As he entered his room, he noticed that some things were being shuffled around in the room next to his. And as far as he was aware, nobody slept there or lived there. Perhaps wisely he decided against checking inside the room, afraid to startle some noble person, or perhaps walk in on something he wasn’t meant to see. Instead, he just put away his things, which was a very limited number of things to begin with. 

He then intended to take a nap, but before he could lay down on the bed, he was interrupted by a knocking noise on the door. He initially thought that it would be Najla – or rather, a servant sent by Najla. Najla would never set foot in this dusty area of the palace. It was simply too filthy for someone of her status. Something along those lines, Ketill mused, as he approached the door and pulled it open.

[i]‘’It seems you carry more influence than the girls thought,’’[/i] a feminine, emoted voice rang. In the doorway stood Yasamin, the Broacienien-Sawarim girl that had attempted to entertain him a few weeks prior. 

[i]‘’I have no idea what you are talking about.’’[/i] The answer was simple enough, as was the fact that Ketill slammed the door shut in her face, or at least attempted to. But he was stopped by Yasamin, who slammed her hand into the door and put her foot up against the bottom of it. 

[i]‘’Don’t pretend. I’ve already heard. You have to be real useful to get a sultana to give up a harem girl to you.’’[/i] Her eyelashes fluttered as she looked back into the hallway, before looking back at Ketill, as if she was about to spill a secret. [i]‘’Perhaps they weren’t wrong about you.’’[/i]

Without waiting for an invite, she stepped into the room, finally allowing Ketill to close the door. He seemed somewhat annoyed – which was strange, considering he’d asked for her to be granted to him – but didn’t tell her to get out, so obviously he wasn’t that annoyed.

[i]‘’What do they say?’’[/i]

[i]‘’Things. Many things are said in the palace. You just need to listen,’’[/i] the girl replied, and for a moment Ketill thought he was speaking to Najla. It sounded almost precisely the same. Sure, the voice was different, the looks were different, but… the words that they spoke were exactly the same.

[i]‘’No. I am here to kill. Not to listen.’’[/i]

[i]‘’… yes, you’re right, that’s one of the things they say about you.’’[/i]

Ketill seemed bored of the conversation already, walking to a nearby table and picking up a cloth, before dipping it into a nearby washing basin filled with water and using it to was his face. Under the cloth he spoke, causing his voice to come out slightly muffled. [i]‘’They say many things I suppose. I eat babies, and I turn into a spirit at night. I also punch husbands.’’[/i]
 
Yasamin giggled slightly at the mention of that incident, covering her mouth and looking away when she did. [i]‘’So that rumour was true? I heard the girls mention it, but I thought that it was just gossip.’’[/i]

[i]‘’I don’t think that Najla would appreciate if I spoke about that,’’[/i] Ketill answered her question. It would be enough of an answer for her to figure out what he meant, regardless. [i]‘’Some people like poking bears.’’[/i]

[i]‘’It seems that way. There was a lot of talk about you at first, in the harem. There still is, but it’s grown quieter now. I think when I left, they didn’t like that. I don’t think the sultana told anyone where I was going, but this type of news travels fast.’’[/i]

[i]‘’Do they think I’m interested in them?’’[/i]

[i]‘’No. Maybe. There’s a betting pool.’’[/i]

This answer received nothing more than a scoff as Ketill pondered just why they thought he was interested. As far as he’d known, he’d never made any advances towards them. He supposed that that was exactly the reason why they were after him, though. [i]‘’I have no chores for you. Just take my tunics, and wash them.’’[/i]

[i]‘’Wait, you mean… like an actual servant? I thought…’’[/i]

[i]‘’There more important things for me than sticking my cock into some hole.’’[/i]

[i]‘’I… see. Not that I’m complaining.’’[/i]

Again Ketill shrugged. He seemed to care very little about what she thought, much like he cared little about what Najla thought. In a way, Yasamin reminded him of Najla. Or, perhaps not Najla. But Saina, most definitely, if Saina had not been a royalty, but remained a traders’ daughter. [i]‘’I don’t care. Go.’’[/i]

[hr]

Ketill was ‘’fetched’’ once again – the process had become entirely reliable and predictable at this point. Najla would get mad at him, she’d not speak to him for a few days, and then a guard would show up to escort him. It had gotten to the point where he’d memorized a few of the guards’ that he frequently saw their names, so that he could greet them. Whatever ill intent he held towards the Sultanate had vanished when he dropped his faith and position as a Servant, even if he remained a Servant to the Sultanates’ people. Instead, his anger and hate was all burning on one focal point. Najla. It felt better that way, too.

He was lead around to one of the far away private reaches of the palace, where it was quiet as could be. As he approached, he saw that Najla was busy speaking to Osman, so he assumed more or less directly that he was going to get the punishment he’d been owed for killing the man in the fire. And Osman would be the one to deal it, most likely.

However, in the contrary, Osman merely turned around and walked away, leaving Najla to talk to Ketill. When he walked past Ketill, the two engaged in an awkward stare that would only be broken when Osman looked away – with pride, not out of fear.

Then he was brought before Najla herself, who seemed content to laze about in the windowsill. Her question earned a raised eyebrow from Ketill. [i]‘’Djinn?’’[/i] he asked her, not wholly sure about what she meant. She was quick to explain it, and honestly the explanation made him grin, in a rather sly manner. [i]‘’Closer than you might think.’’[/i] The explanation about the eyes, and Osman’s mother, it only made it more amusing. [i]‘’You have been to Broacien. If she is right, perhaps there is an entire nation of ‘’Djinn’’ waiting for you. It makes Djinn sound a whole lot less exciting, no? Knowing that there are hundreds, if not thousands of them. No, it is better to assume I am a Djinn and that my eyes have naught to do with it.’’[/i] He carelessly looked to the side, inspecting the room he was in, taking in the details of it as if he was there on his own volition and in his own free time rather than as if she’d forced him to. [i]‘’It’s more impressive that way that you survived me. So far.’’[/i]

Although unintentional, his words had a double meaning. First of all, it seemed like Najla was having a hard time working with him, which was understandable given his rebellious nature. ‘’Surviving’’ that must’ve been hard for her, as he struggled against her and seemed to try and dismantle all her plans, or at the very least throw some chaos into them. But secondly, there was a more ominous meaning behind the words ‘so far’. She would find a blade in her gut, sooner or later. This much was known. The question was… [i]when?[/i] 

Her next words made Ketill shrug. The answer was obvious. Because he was worth more to her alive than dead. It would continue to be like that. Whether she realized it or not, he was quite protective of her – even if it was only because he wished for the honour of killing her. That vengeance would redeem him in the eyes of the Gods. It was their challenge to him. If someone else took that chance, well, that would be a reason for a feud. [i]‘’You don’t need a reason. You are the sultana. Are you not? Was I right in saying that you are not in control?’’[/i] The words had bite, but her next words were fired with a sudden surge in anger as she released the pipe from her grasp, her eyes suddenly finding him and fixating on him when he heard the pipe shatter below. It caused him to grin, slightly. He knew he was under her skin. It was a matter of time before she would screw it up. She would be the one to bring down her palace of gold and jewelry, and she’d blame him. And then he’d take her life.

[i]‘’You cannot put me in the spotlight to bring you status and expect me not to speak.’’[/i]

The guard interjected, seemingly worried about the pipe or something trivial, and Najla was quick to silence him. It seemed that that, too, was something she was good at. Except for Ketill. He imagined that it was quite distracting for her to be able to control everyone and anyone except for him. Even Osman seemed to follow her command – at least, as far as he knew. What happened behind the scenes were a secret for all, including Ketill, [i]especially[/i] Ketill. 

Her talk about a reward made him shrug. It wasn’t the reward that interested him. She was just… to show Najla that she was not in control. That she’d have to give things up to make Ketill do as he was asked. She’d done exactly that, but she didn’t seem to realize it. Not that a harem girl was a gigantic sacrifice to make, but still. A small victory is where it starts. [i]‘’It would’ve been better to slit his throat. Let him die honourably. But a dead man is dead. He can’t object now. That is enough for me. I don’t have to bear the shame of using poison. It’s your burden now.’’[/i]

He could sense that Najla was studying him, as if she was looking for a hint, [i]anything[/i] that would betray how he felt. She would receive no such thing – perhaps because he felt nothing at that point. He just glared back, his eyes speaking books yet saying nothing at the same time. It was all she needed to know. [i]‘’What is it that you Sawarim say. ‘’Let your pain fall on me’’ or something. I wonder if you felt that for him too. Poison hurts. I don’t know what you used. But it took him a few days to die. It was fast – but fast poison is painful. It infected the wound, I suppose?’’[/i] He looked to the side, before walking away from his position. The guard eyed him carefully, looking at Najla to see what she thought about it, that a slave dared insult her as such to walk away. He didn’t seem to care, inspecting a nearby piece of art before turning back to her. [i]‘’Fire would’ve been quicker. It’d also be less painful. Perhaps it doesn’t seem that way. But in the long run…’’[/i]

She then concluded with a question about what he said to Thamud at the end of the fight, which made Ketill laugh. [i]‘’You asked me to kill him, not fight him. He was already dead when I finished the fight. He just didn’t know it yet. I wonder if he figured it out before he died. He was probably too weak to tell anyone then, but I imagine he knew something was awry. I told him that I would like to push him into the fire. But that I couldn’t, because there was something I needed to do, and I wouldn’t jeopardize that. Then I told him I wished for his bones to be swallowed by the desert and to be spat out again.’’[/i]

He glanced back over his shoulder before continuing to inspect the piece of art, resisting the urge to touch it. [i]‘’Does it matter? He’s dead.’’[/i]

But rather than finish the discussion with this, Najla had more she wanted to say – more useless things that he needn’t know but she felt like telling him anyway. He groaned mentally but did not let it show. [i]‘’I wouldn’t dare…’’[/i] he silently added to her order not to praise his false god. If only she knew, he thought, if only she knew what he knew. 

[i]‘’We’ll see. One day you will see the ravens – maybe today, maybe tomorrow, or a year – and then you will understand. You will understand who I am, and why I do what I do. Why I continue to live even if there is nothing here for me. But it will be too late then. Your brother seems to understand better than you do. He is clever. There might be hope for him yet. But you… too useless, too pampered. Too used to comfort. Poison cannot fix all your problems.’’[/i]

With that conversation finished, he bowed his head lightly to Najla, giving the guard a sense of respect being given, but just like with Basim, Najla would probably see that it was not meant as a symbol of respect, more so than a sarcastic and joking insult to their authority. Basim had not taken offense – not noticeably, anyway – but Ketill knew Najla better than that. But before she could call him back, he’d already walked away, leaving the guard behind rather confused. He was remarkably brazen and brave for a slave – only furthering his point that she was no longer in control. 

But the catch was, neither was Ketill. The cogs of time were churning and it was only a matter of time before the person that was in control would show themselves.

[hr]

It would not take long after all for the cogs of time to turn and revel who was grasping at more and more control. Two days later, Ketill was woken from his sleep early in the morning by a set of guards that he did not recognize. Najla usually sent the same few guards – perhaps because they were tasked with remaining close to her – but these were not among them. Instead, he was given some time to put on a tunic and was then promptly escorted to a corridor of the palace that he had not seen before. He was brought to a large room, and led inside, a curtain hanging behind the door concealing whoever was inside. One of the guards waited before the curtain, speaking up to whoever was inside. <[i]‘’My prince, he’s here.’’[/i]>

<[i]‘’Lead him in,’’[/i]> a voice came from inside, which was recognizable as Basim’s. The guard opened the curtain and let Ketill step through, who found Basim laying on some pillows on his side, while holding an item of sorts in his hand. It seemed to be made of various forms of colored glass, more as a decoration than anything. But Basim was quick to put the object aside, instead training his eyes on Ketill. [i]‘’Are you happy?’’[/i]

Ketill kept his mouth shut, looking at Basim with piercing eyes. Not that he did not wish to answer, but he did not understand the question, and Najla had asked him not to speak to Basim after all. 

[i]‘’I thought as much. Doesn’t really matter. My guard told me that you were escorted to Najla yesterday… I suppose that she wanted to speak to you. And now she won’t let you speak to me.’’[/i]

Ketill looked away momentarily, but did not answer, confirming Basim’s thoughts. The boy lazily rolled over onto his back, putting his hands behind his head, seemingly thinking about the situation like Ketill had become used to him doing by now. [i]‘’I suppose it matters little. In the eyes of the Sultan, my wishes probably overrule her, because I’m a prince, not a sultana. You can speak. She won’t punish you.’’[/i]

[i]‘’Then you seek to ‘’protect’’ me again, is it not. You’d tell her not to punish me?’’[/i]

[i]‘’Perhaps. I could also order the guards not to punish you. I would do what it takes. I thought about what you said – about being a tool – and I think that we don’t blame a hammer for not striking the armour perfectly, but we blame the armorsmith.’’[/i]

[i]‘’That’s… a fitting way to put it. A hammer.’’[/i]

[i]‘’More fitting would be a bear, but I thought you’d have become bored by that nickname already.’’[/i]

[i]‘’It’s not the nickname that bothers me. It’s the attention it garners me. I can’t set one step before some tribal peasant spoke about poking a bear. Your people are not used to working with animals, are they?’’[/i]

[i]‘’Goats. Horses. No bears, so you’ll have to excuse them for thinking all bears are good for is poking.’’[/i]

Ketill waved the comment away, looking at the item Basim had put away moments before before glancing back at the boy. He sounded different. A bit more grown up than the first time he’d spoken with him. [i]‘’Did you call me here to discuss bears then?’’[/i]

[i]‘’Perhaps. It would be an interesting conversation, I think. Animals are interesting, we think we control them, but never the less every so often a goat will slip from the herd, or a horse will get scared and run away. We’re never [b]truly[/b] in control, are we? In a way you are much like that. You are-’’[/i]

Ketill was quick to interrupt him then, a bit of annoyance in his eyes as he glared at Basim. [i]‘’If you think that, you should have let Najla punish me.’’[/i]

This earned a curious look from Basim, who thought he’d done Ketill a favour by protecting him. It was seemingly strange for him to hear that Ketill would’ve rather taken the punishment. Confused, he asked, [i]‘’why?’’[/i] He did not even seem to remember to tell him to call her sultana, rather than Najla.

[i]‘’It didn’t bother me the first time I was whipped. It would bother me even less now.’’[/i]

Basim raised an eyebrow at this, growing silent for a minute before finally replying. [i]‘’I see. Never the less, I’d say you are more useful to me, to us, here in the palace, rather than in the healers’ room.’’[/i]

[i]‘’Because I am a hammer.’’[/i]

[i]‘’Because you are a person, like me, who understands the world around him better than most people think you do. Audrun likes wise people, right? Then we must share our ideas and the information we have. It will only serve you better, because you will grow more wise. And for me… it will sate my curiosity.’’[/i]

[i]‘’There is little I can tell you. Najla would cut out my tongue. She knows she can do that, because it won’t kill me. It’d be done before you could stop it.’’[/i]

Basim shrugged then. [i]‘’So be it. Why did you offer your condolences to Thamu’s brother?’’[/i]

[i]‘’Thamud is dead. That’s why.’’[/i]

[i]‘’Yes, but he did not know he would die. So… why?’’[/i]

[i]‘’Because his brother would die at the hand of a woman who lacks the strength to do anything on her own and relies on a savage, Broacienien bear that fights for the wrong gods to do her chores. That’s why. He didn’t die with honour – he died at the hands of a cowardly woman that did what she did purely because she felt a desire to. My condolences were the least I could do. But Thamud himself, he did not seem like an honourable man. I would rather his brothers are offered strength and compassion than the man himself.’’[/i]

[i]‘’You… were never told why we were there, were you?’’[/i] Basim then asked, seemingly remembering that Ketill had no idea about anything that happened there. Ketill’s silence was enough of an answer. [i]‘’Thamud’s tribe had stolen horses from another tribe. The feud caused problems for the sultan, so we were sent to deal with it. Thamud refused to settle for what we asked of him, and added insult to injury by demanding the claim be lowered, and money would be paid. I spoke with Najla about it, and it seems that with Thamud’s death, Salim now takes his place.’’[/i]

[i]‘’So she took out a turbulent tribal leader to replace him with someone else?’’[/i]

[i]‘’It’s… Salim is Zahira’s husband. Though she denied it, the tribe is now effectively under control of Najla, since Zahira and her are close friends. If you could even call them that…’’[/i] He scratched his head lightly as he thought about his next words, thinking about Zahira and Najla together. [i]‘’They’ve had a nail driven through their hands and are nailed together. Zahira would not exist without Najla, and vice versa.’’[/i]

[i]‘’Then I wonder who benefited from Thamud’s death the most.’’[/i]

[i]‘’First and foremost the Sultan. But I doubt he knew of Najla’s plans. He has better things to worry about than some upstart tribal village that makes a living by selling water and stealing horses. Not… not to insult them. They were very nice to me while I was there.’’[/i]

[i]‘’You’re a prince. I imagine they would be,’’[/i] Ketill then added, adding some scepticism about the truth behind their nice behaviour. But it was true, Ketill had seen how the men had clung to Basim like flies to a piece of shit. He couldn’t blame them either, since Basim was not unpleasant to be around, and had their meeting occurred some 8 years earlier, they might’ve had good conversations about a variety of things. But things were too different now. 

[i]‘’Even so. They are good people. Thamud was a good leader. He wasn’t kind or honourable, but he was a good leader. He just met his match in a woman that does not play by the rules. I still find it hard to believe that my very own sister was behind this.’’[/i]

[i]‘’There’s a difference between being wise, and being deceitful and dishonourable.’’[/i]

[i]‘’Very much so. I do not stand by my sisters’ actions. If I had known, I would’ve stopped it. The Qawanin might not forbid this, but that doesn’t make it any better.’’[/i]

[i]‘’That’s why you didn’t know. You were brought along for political reasons, not to play a part in the plot. That’s why I was there. To kill him. I am not Sawarim. I cannot break the Qawanin, even if your people think differently. They are your laws, now mine, I have no part in them except the part that Najla bestowed on me. And she did no such thing. She just told me to slice him.’’[/i]

<[i]‘’Ya Ibn el Sharmouta…’’[/i]> Basim softly uttered as he slowly raised himself from the cushions, taking a few steps towards the nearby window, leaning out of it as he looked over the palace, and by extent over the city and the ever expanding desert beyond it’s limits. [i]‘’It was foolish of me to think that I was there to learn something,’’[/i] he then sighed, pulling himself back from the window. [i]‘’That settles it then. Come with me.’’[/i] The sudden resolution caught Ketill slightly off guard, but he did not question it and followed Basim as he shoved aside the curtain and walked out of the room, leaving the guards behind. They were quick to follow however, unwilling to let a prince wander the palace alone with a slave in tow who wasn’t known for being kindhearted. 

They walked through the meandering halls of the palace, ultimately ending up at Najla’s room. This place was one that Ketill [b]did[/b] recognize, as he’d spent a lot of time being escorted here. [i]‘’Najla’s room?’’[/i]

[i]‘’Yes. I assume you’ve spent a lot of time here.’’[/i]

[i]‘’Quite. Maybe I misjudged you. You are more brave than I had imagined. In fact, perhaps there’s some promise in you yet.’’[/i]

The words were rather awkward to hear for Basim, Ketill imagined, as a prince was probably used to receiving nothing but praise, so hearing someone say something that was not wholly positive in nature must’ve been strange to him. [i]‘’I… guess so.’’[/i] Basim’s reply was meek as Ketill was used to, and though he had noticed a change in attitude from Basim lately, he seemed to revert to the same boy he’d spoken to in the healers room some time earlier. It was shortlived, however, as Basim opened the door and stepped into Najla’s chambers. Ketill followed shortly after, but as the guards would attempt to step in too to ensure that nothing happened, Basim stopped them, gesturing towards the corner just around the door. <[i]‘’He’s chained like a dog, don’t worry too much. My sister’s guards are nearby, go speak to them or entertain yourselves,’’[/i]> he told them, rather straight forward, which evidently they weren’t too used to from Basim. Never the less they followed the order, leaving the room and closing the door as they did. 

Ketill looked around the rather large room, where he’d been a few times before, though he could only remember one instance right away – the night he’d pummelled Osman in the face and incurred the wrath of his rival. 

Basim approached Najla then, his posture being rather imposing in that moment, even f he was not the tallest among men, with Ketill being at the very least a head taller. <[i]‘’There are no marks on his body,’’[/i]> he opened, standing before his sister. <[i]‘’So you didn’t punish him. Not physically. I suppose that begins to make up for what you did, because you did not lie this time.’’[/i]> He gestured loosely to Ketill as he spoke to his sister, but Ketill was left behind a short distance away, not understanding a word of the conversation in front of him.

<[i]‘’When you took Thamud’s life [b]and[/b] his birthright from him, Salim took that birthright. It’s too convenient. What you said in the desert was a lie too. You promised to speak the truth to me before, so tell me, was it you or Zahira that came up with this plan?’’[/i]>

<[i]‘’And what about uncle? Did he know? Did he order you to do this? What would uncle say if he knew you effectively took control of the village through Zahira? Do you realize how that looks? It looks like you’re gathering power, not for him, but for yourself. So not only did you act like a… like a coward, you also put us, and our entire family at risk. You are lucky that you did not get caught. And what if Zahira opens her mouth? Surely people have their objections to the sudden death of their leader, and the timely arrival of Zahira to ‘fix things’ with her husband?’’[/i]>

Before Najla had a chance to even reply, he gestured back at Ketill, looking him in the eyes with a totally different look from before, as it seemed that he was getting fired up now. Najla had barely gotten a word in so far, or at least not as far as Ketill could’ve heard. <[i]‘’Is it not true?’’[/i]> he asked, entirely unaware that he’d been speaking in his mother tongue. [i]‘’It was cowardly!’’[/i] he said in Broacienien, seemingly realizing, before Ketill could answer. He turned back to Najla, stepping closer to her, his body tensing up more as he approached. If he wasn’t Basim, Ketill would’ve expected him to strike his own sister. Never the less, now that he’d switched to Broacienien, he continued the conversation like that. [i]‘’You could’ve just made him challenge Ketill to a duel, or asked Ketill to insult Thamud, so that Thamud would end up killing himself. If you’re treating him like a tool, at least think about what the Sawarim would think of that. Yes, you did not break Qawanin, but you will [b]still[/b]  be judged!’’[/i] 

For a moment there was a silence as Basim gathered his composure again after raising his voice at his sister, but then he continued. [i]‘’Besides, he’s not a tool, he’s a person like you and me. He told me he did not care if you prayed when you were his slave. Then why are you against letting him pray? Why do you punish him? Those whippings, were they entirely deserved? Have you seen his back?’’[/i]

Without missing a beat Basim turned around and walked to Ketill, grabbing the mans’ arm and turning him around with his back towards Najla, before pulling up the tunic, revealing several rather grotesque scars that looked like someone had raked a rake across his back a few times. [i]‘’This is not justice. Not when Osman does the same thing, but receives no punishment. And what do the Qawanin say about how you should treat your neighbours? Have you ever shown any of that to him? Or is he truly just ‘’Daab al-Broacien’’ to you, some animal to try and control? That you can whip him so that he dances how you want him to?’’[/i]

Ketill laughed then at the notion of control, which seemed to be a recurring theme in the palace. Who was truly in control was a contentious matter and seemed to shift indefinitely, and by this point it had become clear that whoever it was, it wasn’t Najla, despite the appearances. [i]‘’I do not dance. If I danced, I would not have Yasamin. But I do. She struck a bargain. I’ve told her before, she is not in control. She is too- well…’’[/i] He did not finish his sentence, perhaps because he did not want to insult her in front of her brother, but they probably both knew what he was going to say. 

[i]‘’Even so-’’[/i] Basim tried to continue, but voices in the palace hallway disrupted them and a single voice between them seemed extremely familiar. Before too long the door swung open and both Basim and Ketill turned around to face towards it. In the doorway was Osman, followed by Elif shortly after, clinging to him like they were attached to each other with a short rope. 



[/quote]