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“No!” the word burst out between Cnebba’s clenched teeth. The boys liked Lithor – he told them stories and made them laugh and he was nice, for a grown up. Now he was being asked to kneel and beg forgiveness. It was ridiculous, and they all knew that Lithor would never stoop to such an action. Cnebba started forward, out of the shadows.
“Stop, Cnebba!” Javan exclaimed, leaping up after him and catching his arm. “We can’t do anything. Not by ourselves.”
“But the just shoved him! They’re going to get worse, ‘cause he won’t kneel!” Cnebba cried, pulling against Javan. But Javan was pulling him away, and waving his hand back at Garmund.
“Come on. We’ve got to go tell somebody.”
“We’ll tell father,” Garmund said, running ahead. Cnebba finally stopped fighting and they were all running back towards the hall.
“No!” Javan said. He didn’t slow his pace to speak. “We can’t. That would only start a big fight because your boys’ fathers would run out and try to stop it and then it would be three against two, and Athanar would be furious that there was another fight, and it would be bad.”
“What are we going to do then?” Garmund asked as he pushed open the door. They stood panting a while in the entrance, panting in the warm glow of the torches and looking at all the people still at the tables. “We’ve got to do something!” Garmund hissed at Javan’s elbow.
“Yes…Yes, I know…” Above all else, Javan wanted to avoid another fight. He felt that once Athanar punished one fight, he would punish all the fights that happened that day, and after what he said to Lithor, he did not want to find out what he would say to Javan when he found out it was he who had hit his daughter. “I know,” he said. “We will tell Thornden. He’s in charge of the men. The two men of Athanar out there will have to listen to him.”
Without another word, they started around the square of tables, skirting the edge of the hall and getting to Thornden in what they thought to be the least way noticeable. He was sitting, unfortunately, at the table at the head of the hall, opposite to Saeryn, Degas, and the new Lady of the hall. He turned his head as the three boys came near.
“Thornden,” Javan said in a strained whisper. He skidded to a stop at Thornden’s chair and grasped the back of it as he bent is his head beside his brother’s. Thornden glanced at him and then at Garmund and Cnebba.
“Lithor is outside,” Javan began.
“And two men are bullying him,” Cnebba went on.
“Asking him to kneel and beg forgiveness,” Garmund said.
“And they shoved him and I don’t think he’ll do as they ask, and they’ll hurt him, Thornden,” Javan finished. “They’ve got to be stopped.”
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