[Novnarwen]

His naïvety took over. Erfâzh had to be loyal to Frôzhal, no doubt about that. There was nothing Erfâzh could possibly do to harm the other Haradrim in any way. Without Frôzhal, who had been given a platoon when they set out to destroy the Poros settlement, Erfâzh was nothing other than a soldier, who had absolutely no power in the army at all. If he, nevertheless, proved or had proven to be disloyal who would their superior believe; a simple soldier of a low rang, or Frôzhal, who happened to be in charge of a platoon? Surely, it would have to be the latter. With this conclusion, he wasn't very pleased about the fact that a certain Haradrim slowly approached him.

"Where were you, during the attack?" Erfâzh asked, curious about how Frôzhal had got the gash in his face, and why his clothing was badly ripped.

It was important, in these kinds of situations, to keep ones mask. After all, Frôzhal didn't know whether this man's intentions were good or not. Frôzhal repeated the question silently, avoiding the piercing look from the soldier. What was he supposed to say? He frowned, thinking hard, meanwhile watching Erfâzh getting more and more impatient.

"What do you think?" Frôzhal asked, taking his sword halfway up from the sheath to show the blood at the upper half of the sword and to the hilt, (which was intentionally done; to put a fright into the young man's heart). Erfâzh looked at Frôzhal with surprise, as if all doubt, whether his superior had fought in the battle or not, was gone.

"But you said that you were going to watch . . . "

Frôzhal interrupted. Grim-faced and eyes narrowing, he told Erfâzh it had been a test. By this, the other Haradrim's eyes lit up, but he didn't seem to fully understand though.

"Well . . . Did I pass?" he asked, not even knowing what this so called test was about. Both of them stood motionless for a while, Frôzhal again thinking; being afraid to say something wrong, which could be used against him later, if Erfâzh indeed was disloyal.

At last Frôzhal grinned. A feeling of satisfaction embraced him, as he understood that Erfâzh, surprisingly enough, had believed him. However, to Frôzhal's surprise, Erfâzh hadn't even bothered to ask what this test was all about. This was perhaps for the best, he thought.

"You passed . . . " There was a long pause, before Frôzhal stepped forwards, reminding himself of the Gondorian knife he had taken from a fallen soldier; and of which he had been tempted in using. He whispered in Erfâh's ear:"But only just . . ."