Hymneth the Possessed nodded slowly, his posture and attitude indicative of a weary patience. The senior soldier at his side remained standing at attention, having moved not a muscle or, insofar as Ehomba could tell, an eye, during the entire confrontation. As for the amorphous blobs of black effluvium, Ehomba knew what they were.
“Well spoken,” the Lord of Ehl-Larimar deigned to comment. “While I generally dislike volubility in my soldiers, you exhibit the kind of blind and dumb courage that can sometimes prove valuable. I might have use for you.” Before a defiant Simna could reply, Hymneth returned his attention to the silently watching Ehomba.
“When first I was warned of your coming, I was concerned. Not afraid, mind, or worried, but concerned. It is a foolish man who is not concerned with the unknown. This consideration troubled my thoughts, and became so persistent as to unsettle my sleep. Then, things changed. Or rather, something of great importance changed. So much so that it no longer became a matter of interest to me whether you reached Ehl-Larimar or not.” Behind the helmet there surfaced the suggestion of a smile.
“This came about because I became immune to anything you could do. Believe me, when the change took place it was a revelation as welcome as it was surprising.” He leaned his head slightly to one side. “I look forward with complete indifference to whatever you may choose to do next.”
Simna whispered tersely to his laconic friend. “He’s bluffing. No matter how powerful he is, he knows nothing of our strengths or powers. Therefore he can’t be as disinterested as he says.” When Ehomba did not comment, the swordsman decided to go on the offensive. Raising his voice, he challenged the armored figure slumping on the throne.