We were not of the same tribe by birth, but we were as kin. We were brothers in all but blood. We both swore an oath to the same lord. He accepted us as kinsmen, and so too expected the same from us.
Why then, when the lord was away, did you betray me, man who was my brother? What honor is there in lies and deceit? You hunted me down as a partridge in the mountains. You turned those I most loved against me.
When our lord returns, what will he say, betrayer? What will he do with a kinsmen-slayer?
This could make an interesting Prologe piece for a novel. Haunt the reader with intrigue, but no names to build suspense. Very intriguing.
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