>>5237639Your two new hires must have sent their messages only days ahead of themselves. Alys is only blessedly out of the infirmary and close to whole for less than a day before both of them arrive. The call of approaching riders reaches you and Alys as you are confirming her own role in the training. You were discussing how, now back on her feet, she could orientate the chosen initiates before they get thrown into the deep end of your two expert trainers. Those who are distinguishing themselves could even learn some poisons and alchemy, though she is clear that any woman should keep some secrets.
In the courtyard, you meet them. The knights had mustered out to escort them in, Friedrich at their head. Salaf is a wizened figure, a deep brown skinned man atop a magnificent southern stallion you are sure is miserable in the relative cool of Barathon's surroundings. Brassus rides a mule, either out of preference or lack of riding skill who can say. The man is the most scarred individual you have ever seen, his ebony skin crisscrossed with pale scars. Two of his fingers on one hand are missing. He wears no armor, the only visible weapons at least twelve knives sheathed on his sides. You have no doubt more are hidden elsewhere.
Salaf and Brassus stop before you and dismount, allowing the grooms who approach to lead their mounts away to the castle stables. The elder man steps forward first, and enters into a very deep bow, much more elaborate than is common in the north or central provinces. You remember it from your travels through the southern cities.
“This humble servant greets you, Captain-General. I am Salaf, late of the great city Al-Quram. I come in response to your offer and with greatest respect for yourself and your endeavor.”
You nod your recognition. This obsequience is the way of his people. It will not stop him from collecting his pound of flesh. “You are welcome, son of Al-Quram. My home is your home.” It's been a while, but you think that was the proper etiquette. You remember Alkaign and Alys both quizzing you on it before you entered the southern desert. There simple offense can end in death. He raises from the bow and there is begrudging respect on his face, so you imagine you passed the test.
