The Bond || ONC2022

Chapter 8

[The Present]

Bhallar stared at himself in the mirror; to him, he looked nothing like any of the bounty hunters he had met since he had set out in search of Mayeen.

The physician couldn't deny that after having a long bath and an overdue shave, he looked and felt much better than he had when he had walked into his friend's home. Dressed in a brand new set of limestone white, Bhallar wondered how he would care for the gorgeous robes Almat had made him wear. 

"Did you fall in love with yourself, my friend?" Almat's voice broke through his reprieve.

Bhallar chuckled mirthlessly, "That will be the day, isn't it?" He threw a look over his shoulder, "By the way, what about the weapons?"

"Ah, yes. The weapons." The latter wondered aloud like he had forgotten about them altogether. "Since I am a man of peace, I have none here. We would have to make a trip to South Qulsairis to acquire them."

The truth was that many fine establishments sold weapons Bhallar was referring to; unfortunately, Almat knew they would hinder more than help his friend, who was not built to wield heavy weapons. Thus, the architect had asked around and found a blacksmith who made custom weapons. The said man was known for his craftsmanship and discretion.

Upon arriving in South Qulsairis alone, Bhallar, who had stubbornly refused to bother Almat any more than he already had, didn't have trouble finding 'Hondo's Weapons' that his friend had directed him to.

"You are lucky, young man. I just happen to have what you are looking for!" Hondo, the master craftsman, exclaimed as if not Bhallar, but he was the lucky one and disappeared into an adjacent room.

He returned a few minutes later with his hands full of items Bhallar had never seen at such close range. "There you go, my man," he said, dumping the haul on the platform in front of the physician.

Bhallar started picking up the weapons: a short dagger, a long dagger, a bow, about twenty arrows neatly held in a quiver, and a khopesh, one at a time, and checked them for balance and sharpness, before stopping at what he assumed was a chest guard. Perplexed, he hesitated for a few heartbeats running his fingers over the cold metal.

"So, is it to your liking?" The blacksmith asked. Obviously, he had failed to notice the physician's discomfort.

"They are wonderful. In fact, just what I was looking for, but-" Bhallar pointed at the chest guard and enquired, "Is this a manufacturing defect?"

The blacksmith threw his head back and laughed before going silent. He stared at his prospective customer and placed his large, calloused palm on the marble platform. "Are you implying that Hondo made a defective piece?"

Bhallar gulped. "Mistakes happen."

"What did you say!?"

Realizing that he had made a (humongous) blunder because of his filter-less mouth, Bhallar shook his head. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"Feelings!? Do you take me for a woman?"

"Well, according to science, both men and women-"

"Shut up and get out! Hondo refuses to sell you his magnificent gear."

'Clearly, the man is hurt.' Bhallar's mind supplied. 'Maybe I should have let Almat tag along.' The physician thought exasperatedly.

"Good sir, I am sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. You see, I am new to this bounty hunter business. I am not even worthy of wielding these fine weapons."

The praise worked. Hondo calmed down a smidgen. "Yes, these are my best works." The man gazed at the weapons as one would at the fruit of their loins, then glanced back at Bhallar, "Is the prize on the runaway concubine's head the reason you are thinking of becoming a bounty hunter?"