“I’ve put myself in death’s way for you more times than I care to count, bruther. Now I expect some reward.”
Ehomba gestured at the sharp-edged mountains, the quiet village, the pristine air and peaceful surroundings. “Is this not reward enough for you? Were not the adventures we had treasure enough?”
The swordsman did not reply directly, but instead grinned while briskly rubbing the thumb and forefinger of his right hand against one another. Ehomba sighed. “There is no treasure here, Simna.” He squinted up at the cloudless, impossibly blue sky. “Would you not like to go for a walk on the beach instead?”
“Listen to me, Etjole! You promised me that—” The shorter man halted his nascent tirade. A wide, sly grin spread across his weatherbeaten, sun-scoured face. “A walk on the beach? By Goulouris, long bruther, I’d be happy to take a walk on the beach. I’d nearly forgotten about the beauty of the beaches above your village.”
There were children playing at the water’s edge when they arrived. Ehomba’s daughter was among them, and he tried his best to explain to her the reason behind the comical antics of the funny man from the far north who threw himself on the shore and rolled about wildly, laughing at the top of his lungs while throwing fistfuls of pebbles up in the air and letting them land on his face and body. Eventually, the teary-eyed swordsman rose and began to gather some of those pebbles. Laughing Naumkib children helped him, delighting in his joy and praise when they handed him a particularly large or bright pebble.