His chin resting on folded hands as he watched the nearby celebration, the herdsman shrugged. “I have trusted you with more than a cow these past many months. Besides, those who stand watch over the herds also share in their bounty.”
“And I would still be free to leave at any time, to run when the need overcame me?”
Ehomba glanced over at his massive, clawed companion. They had been through much together. “I would not ask of another that which I could never ask of myself.”
The litah snorted. It was his way of saying little while saying much.
* * * *
There came a morning when Simna ibn Sind confronted the other companion of his journeys well to the north of the last house. While admiring the supple play of cloth against the bodies of the young women who came to draw water for the day’s activities, the swordsman hesitated at first to speak his mind.
“Come, my friend,” Ehomba told him. “Something is troubling you.”
“Hoy, I don’t want to insult you, bruther, or the hospitality of your friends, which has been all that a man could ask for.”
“And yet you are not content,” Ehomba observed sagely.
“It’s not that the food isn’t good, or the accommodations unsuitable.” The swordsman struggled to find the right words, then finally decided to plunge ahead. “It’s just that I’ve spent my life trying to avoid places like this, Etjole.” He made a sweeping gesture. “Maybe this is enough to satisfy a cat, but I don’t belong here.” He took a deep breath. “Also, there’s the little matter of some treasure you’ve kept promising me. I knew when I first met you that you had access to some. I thought you were searching for it yourself. Then I believed you when you told me that it could be found in Ehl-Larimar. The only reason I’m here now is because I’ve kept on believing you.” His tone and expression hardened.