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After hearing Athanar's name, Scyrr paused once again, but only for a short moment. He could see that the woman was taken aback at his last words. She was losing this word-fight - no, he corrected himself, she had already lost, and she knew it.
"Don't you dare to thrat-threaten me with reporting to my lord Athanar," he said in what would have been a confident tone if his tongue had obeyed him completely. "As if he were gonna listen to your whining. I've been in his service since I have I came of age, and even before, I've seen-been seen-seeing him since my childhood. My old father was, and still is, one of his good friends. They are Riders. Lord Athanar values this, you know."
Inside his head, Scyrr was starting to get more and more the feeling that he was having the higher ground. He felt that he should just keep talking and crush this woman with the weight of his words.
"And your Eodwine is not weak because of what you said, no. If it was even true anyway that he don't want to be eorl," he said. "Which it is not. He is weak because he sends his woman to talk and cannot stand up for himself. If that's what you want to hear!" he growled and waved his hand, as if Saeryn was an annoying fly he wanted to chase away.
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