"Tell me why you're here, Sir Kane, and I'll think about giving your sword back," Ermos said.
It was definitely an option that Mane hated, but from the look on his face, Pash could guess what he was thinking. If he could get his sword back, then he could retaliate and try and bring Ermos to his knees. So, begrudgingly, he told his tale with as little information as he possibly could. "…Reports from a village. Dead men digging themselves up out of their graves, slaying all they come in contact with. Some young chevalar from a sword school went to check it out – they never came back, so they've sent me. Three days I've spent scouting this location… Until you came. Now give me my damn sword!"
"Yikes, grumpy," Ermos tutted, "looks like you didn't bring enough supplies to keep your spirits up. We can get you some juicy pears if you like…"
"SWORD!" Mane was unable to contain himself, he shouted his demand.
"Not yet," Ermos corrected, waggling his finger, "don't you know there are skeletons nearby? Say… What do you think is inside that cave?"
"… A burial ground. Home of the Bishamons and the rumoured resting place of the demon priest Duske," Mane said, his words laced with grudging, despising his powerlessness.
"Bishamons? Is that a type of horse?" Ermos asked, tilting his head.
This time it was Pash that replied. "They're a legendary tribe of nomadic warriors, master. They used to live in these forests – that was why no one dared to come inside. Until one day, they seemed to disappear, as though they had all suddenly died. No one really knows why. The nobles still think they're out there, that's why people are still forbidden from entering."
"Legendary warriors…" Ermos repeated. "They're sure to have some cool stuff… Okay! Sir Mane, let's make a deal. I'll give you your sword back if you let us come inside with you." Pash noticed that he called Mane by his proper name for the first time.
Mane's eyes widened and his jaw slammed shut. He began to grind his teeth together loud enough that they could all hear. Pash had never seen a man get so angry. He wondered if that was how demons were made – Mane was certainly red enough to look like one.
"…Even if I agree, you don't have the honour to give my sword back regardless, you merely mean to mock me," Mane said bitterly.
"No, I definitely will, I swear it," Ermos said resolutely. "I'm a chevalar after all. But you have to swear it too – we're going to be exploring that cave together and collecting its treasure."
"You look down on me," Mane spat, "a true chevalar does not do it for the gold or glory, he does it because it is the right thing to do. I am here, even after you humiliated me, because there are people in need of my help. Strength to protect the weak, that is what it means to be a chevalar."
"Wow, you made that sound pretty cool, even though you lost," Ermos praised, "but do you agree or not? You broke my sword after all, I think you owe me."
"I don't owe you anything," Mane fumed. He went into a prolonged silence, before whispering his agreement. "Fine…"
"Swear it," Ermos said, "or I won't trust you. I swear it too. If you let me come inside with you, then I'll give you your sword back."
"Damn you. Damn you a thousand times. I swear it then! On my honour as a chevalar, I will allow you to accompany me into that wretched cave and I will not lay a hand on you during our time in there… However, as soon as we leave, you will once more be my enemy," Mane said, finishing on a threatening note.
"Awesome," Ermos tossed him his sword as though it weighed nothing more than a pebble. Mane fumbled to try and catch it, but even as he grasped the hilt with both hands in the air, the momentum of the heavy sword was too much and he dragged it down with him.
He ate a faceful of dirt because of that and came up even angrier than before. Pash saw him raise his sword up, about to attack Ermos, until his sense got the better of him and he remembered his promise, before lowering it again. "I have never met such a despicable man," he said.
"I'm not that bad," Ermos insisted, "once you get to know me. Isn't that right, Pash?"
"Yup, I enjoy master's company," Pash said honestly.
"Tsch. Where's that monster you were lugging around with you? Don't need it now that there are no civilians to terrorize?"
"Fingers is there," Ermos said, pointing at the dog. The dog whimpered happily, pleased to be included in the conversation.
"No way," Mane said in shock, "that's the same dog?"
"Yup, that's what I said. Magic is pretty wild, isn't it?" Ermos agreed.
"A terrifying weapon… I will have to keep tabs on you, lest you go trouble making once more," Mane mumbled to himself.
"Speaking of weapons, I wish I had one," Ermos muttered, eyeing Mane enviously. He was dressed in the same sleek armour as the day they had met him, light black leather and shoulders plates of steel. In contrast, Pash's master had nothing apart from the grey robes on his back and the blue ribbon that held in his hair together in a messy top knot.
"Your fault," Mane said dismissively. "You can back out if you're afraid. Meeting the likes of those monsters without a weapon in hand would be folly."
"Nah, I'll be fine," Ermos said, "I'll just steal one of theirs once we bash them to pieces."
"That confidence will get you killed," Mane said darkly, "you know nothing of their like. A single one of them is stronger than your average chevalar, add that to the thousands that we're likely to find inside, you've got a dragon level threat. What were they thinking, sending mere students chevalar into the bowels of such a beast?"