Guest of ‘Honor’

With several days of forced walking, Tarmen had become officially fried. What little water he had been given was no comfort to his now cracked lips, which was no help to the sting that each bead of sweat that passed over them brought.
Yep, definitely like home. Just without the trees and moisture. His captors were resilient to his initially frequent quips and taunts, though to their satisfaction he had died down as he fought against the thick heat.
Now sitting in their new resting place, he waited for something to happen. The newcomer’s looks weren’t too bothersome, he assumed it was a part of the general distrust the natives had. He had resolved to try and get some sleep while they were distracted, idly listening to the assassins talk and working on his grasp of the language.
He truly stirred when he was spoken about as a slave. He had expected this to be some petty revenge trip, dragging him around to teach him a lesson before dumping his body somewhere if he hadn’t gotten free yet.
While still at a major disadvantage, being bound rather tightly, he still had no plans of being sold to the highest bidder, or worse. With how unsettled the girl seemed to be though, he had darker thoughts of their plans that he would rather not entertain.
If the Pillars offered him the right amount of luck though, he would be entertaining other thoughts upon the three black-clad bastards.