[Amanaduial the archer]

Koran reeled, stumbling slightly, but the punch was too clumsy to make him fall. His right hand rising to his face, he gingerly touched the area where Herding had punched him and fierce anger flashed through his dark eyes. His fists clenched, but he kept his right in full view so the captain wouldn't think anything of the fact that the left had vanished behind his back. Herding didn't care a thing for Koran: the young Southron doubted he would remember such a little thing as the fact that he could fight just as well left handed as right.

"Herding, what in the name of your ancestors do you think you're talking about?" he hissed dangerously.

"Don't you use the name of my ancestors!" Herding bellowed. Lurching to the side, he grabbed a half empty wine bottle and hurled it at Koran. The younger man ducked, hands over his head as the glass shattered on the tent's central supporting pole behind him, showering him with drops of blood red. Despite the captain's drunkenness, the bottle had been well aimed: if not for Koran's reflexes, he did not doubt it could have caught him full in the face. But Herding was still ranting. "Their names become soiled from your lips!" he bellowed again, continuing from his last statement. His eyes narrowed and he stabbed a fierce finger at Koran, at the dagger in his left hand where he had grabbed it from the back of his belt. "Look, even now, even now - dagger in hand he enters my tent, sneaking and creeping, all the time ready to worm his way in and murder me!" Herding's voice rose from a whisper to a yell.

"You think I come to murder you?" Koran responded, his temper finally getting the better of him and flaring up. "If I had wanted to kill you, Herding..."

Herding's lip curled contemptuously as his eyes narrowed and he spat on the ground between them. "I would like to see you try, boy," he replied.

Koran covered the ground between them in less than a second, and this punch knocked Herding to the ground. Reaching down, he grabbed the man by his shirt front, pulling his face close. "You know I could do it, and do it without blinking," he hissed menacingly. A sudden white hot pain lanced across the top of his right arm and he winced, letting go of Herding as he grabbed his arm, staring at the long patch of red spreading on his rolled-up shirt sleeve. Herding laughed, pulling himself to his feet a few feet from Koran. "I have experience, boy, where what do you have? A young life of cotton wool and childish fights..."

Koran pointed at his cheek, where the long white scar shot across his cheekbone. "What, and nearly losing an eye to a man with twice my experience? That is childish fighting and cotton wool, Captain Herding?" He sneered. "You don't deserve such a title."

The older man sneered and rushed at Koran, pulling a long, serated knife from a hunk of bread on the table. But Koran was faster: dropping to the floor, he whipped out one leg in a wide arc, whipping under Herding's feet and dropping him. The older man grunted but rolled with surprising agility and stabbed towards Koran's foot, only narrowly missing as Koran dived backwards. Both retreated for a second, Herding sobering up quickly, Koran's fierce eyes hooded, waiting for his prey to attack again. He didn't wait long - Herding leapt at him, knife held high, and by sheer force he knocked Koran straight backwards. Winded, Koran barely got his arm up in time, knocking Herding's knife away as it came within a few centimetres of his eyes but slashing his arm at the same time. The bread knife flew away, embedding itself in the floor a few feet from Koran, his blood staining the sawdust around it. Taking advantage of the stunned Herding, Koran punched him solidly with his right fist, then again. His dagger came up and he rolled suddenly, legs pinning the older man's arms to his side as he knelt over Herding, the knife held at his throat.

"Give me a reason, Herding, and I will slit your throat-"

"Slit my throat?" Herding interrupted, his adam's apple bobbing over the knife as a few pinpricks of blood were drawn from it. "Well, that would make a fine end to this whole thing, wouldn't it? All would know, Koran, how you plotted against me, how you got me drunk and murdered me-"

"But my men know it didn't happen like that - I have been with them all night-"

"If my followers and I have found out over a long career of subordination, it is that anyone can be bought, boy!" came the snap, like a suddenly rising crocodile. "Bloody naivity, you foolish little whelp - anyone can be bought, and anyone taken out of the picture for a while!"

"And that is what you planned to do with me, is it? Hmm, Captain? 'Take me out of the picture'?" Koran's voice was soft but harsh. He held down his captive with almost no effort, his knees kneading Herding's elbows painfully as he sat back, knife still pressing on the older man's throat. Somehow his quietness was worse than when he shouted, and Herding didn't reply this time, although his sneering, dead eyes looked up at Koran with all the emotion of a fish. Koran leant forward suddenly, hissing fiercely, "You wanted the glory of my victory. You would have taken me out."

"Your victory?" Herding laughed, as much as he could past the dagger. "What victory, boy? The whole operation would be mind! Why would the eye taken any notice of a mere pup, a nothingness-"

"I am not nothing, Herding!" Koran bellowed.

"Koran!"

The young captain didn't look up as he recognised Ehan's voice, and heard the sound of other feet at the opening of the tent, breathing heavily, his eyes locked on Herding's, his knife steady against the man's throat. In the stunned silence that followed, his finally looked across at his companion - and one of Herding's men took advantage. Having crossed quietly behind Koran, he now pounced, grabbing Koran's arms and spinning him around, punching him sounded across the face. Koran reeled from the shock and his approaching tiredness, but replied quickly, ducking around behind the man as he made for another shot, and using both hands to thump him powerfully at the base of the neck with the hard, heavy pommel of his dagger. The man fell silently, but another came forward and Koran threw himself into the fight blindly, until he felt his arms grabbed and locked behind him. Struggling, he stopped as soon as he recognised the voice that spoke urgently behind him. "Captain, Captain, it's me, it's Ehan!"

Koran stopped struggling and relaxed, but Ehan kept hold of his arms. Having got up from the floor, Herding limped towards him, acting as if his injuries were actually far worse than had been inflicted. Koran watched him steadily, his gaze fiery, until Herding laughed in his face. "Nice try, boy," he taunted mockingly. Koran retaliated by spitting in his face.

Herding cried out and thumped him across the face as Ehan belatedly let go of his arms. He reeled, but was ready for it, and his head whipped back with lightning speed. "Those who plot against their own men are the contempt of whatever gods wander this earth, and they will deal with whatever is left after I am done with Lorien - after I am done with you, good captain Herding," Koran whispered. Then, bending down to take his dagger from where it had dropped, he turned and ran from the tent.