|
Faramund
The steward spoke insistently, saying that Athanar was not doing what it was so clear that he was. Faramund stopped, debating within whether to humble himself enough to have a debate with this man of Athanar's.
The steward spoke again. This time he used threats. Faramund turned, a ferocious smile on his face.
"I defend what is mine. If there is a fight here, it is because your lord attacked. Go and tell him that for me, and if he 'sees reason', then he will send you back to me that he will cease with his threats and-" Faramund lost control, and the youthful uncertainty that lay at the root of all he did leaped out. "Tell him to stop trying to trap me!"
The whole stable had quieted. Others were listening. Faramund felt a fool. His face went dark red. This could not be borne. He had to make it seem like rage rather than embarrassment. He gritted his teeth and glowered at Thornden.
"You threw me out of your hall! Tell me why I should have you thrown out right this minute!"
The fool youth just stood there. "Get out of here! Give my words to your lord! Go!"
|