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[Lyra Greenleaf]

"No," answered Maeralagos to Telepeheled's offer.

Is that the only response to my speech? he thought with an inward grimace. He waited for a shot, although a part of him did not really expect him to happen. If I truly believed they would kill me, would I still volunteer? he wondered.

"No reasons? Nothing? So I faltered for nothing?" asked the man.
Reasons for what? wondered Telpeheled. I seem to have lost the conversation somewhat!

As he tried to work out what was happening, Maeralagos moved forward, standing directly in front of the Easterlings bow.
"Go on, then!" he said.
Telpeheled froze. Surely he wouldn't do it? he thought, but preferred not to take the chance. He tried to get his body to move forward, do something, but couldn't even think.

An arrow whizzed past, only a foot or so from where Telpeheled was standing. His heart seemed to stop, and time remained stationery for a few seconds. As the shock wore off, he saw Maeralagos and the man standing facing each other. Nobody moved, nobody spoke.

With no warning Telpeheled found himself beginning to laugh. A chuckle built up in his throat and then escaped. The sound startled everyone as much as the shot had. They all stared, like he had run mad.

"Maybe I have" he said aloud, between laughing. They stared even more.
"Don't you see?" he asked "Everyone volunteered for you to kill them and you couldn't do it! What kind of fighters are you?"

Telpeheled laughed and laughed, dobled over, despite the tension remaining in the air, forgetting his own injury, the fact that Maeralagos was injured, Durelin's daeth and that they were still in an impossible situation.