Chapter 11: Codes of Honor

Kload and Yevish sat together on the rough grass speckled and dry ground. They were out of the desert now, and starting their journey into the heartlands. They had ridden all the day before, barely stopping to drink and eat. Their desire to be away from that place had been that great. Peace was sitting with her legs folded under her in more of a kneeling position. Her face mask lay in the thirsty dirt beside her. Her face was tear stained and covered in dust, and her eyes were still somewhat red. Her lips were dry and slightly cracked from the journey through the desert. Yevish’s were the same. Peace’s hair hung down her back, completely undone, dirty from the weeks of travel and strait as a board. Her hair had always been straight and Yevish had insisted on brushing it, one last time.
Yevish kneeled behind Kload, in much the same manner that she was kneeling. His eyes were also slightly red and his face tear streaked. The hint of terror still floated in his eyes, and his mind was somewhat feverish. Things had happened so fast that night, and now, it seemed as if everything was changing. Indeed, right now a major change was about to happen. It perhaps didn’t seem major, but to him and Kload, it was gigantic. There in his hand, he held a small dagger, and there before him was the flowing golden carpet that was Peace’s hair. He knew what he had to do, and so did she, but neither of them were finding the strength to do it.
Suddenly Yevish broke out, “Kload, I just… I just can’t…”
“Here.” Peace stated as firmly as she could. Her voice still sounded worn and somewhat hollowed from the stress. She handed Yevish her side blade, which was a few inches longer. Yevish took it timidly. “Now, take it like this.” Peace gathered all of her hair up into one hand and held it out to him. “And cut it all at once.”
“That short?” Yevish almost choked, she was holding it right at the nape of her neck.
“Yes. We have to eliminate the risk. And if it’s that short I may not always have to wear my mask to appear a man.” Peace stated simply, sounding as if she were completely resolved. The truth being that she was completely unresolved. It had only been one incident, perhaps she was overreacting. Somewhere deep inside however, Peace knew that she had to do this. She remembered the fights from her childhood, the wars. People here had no codes against using hair in a battle. She remembered bar room floors being covered in chunks of bloodied hair that both men and women had pulled from each other. Warriors here always kept their hair very short or shaved. It simply wasn’t safe to have it any longer. She knew that if she left her hair uncut, it would be used against her time and time again. She had to do this, though, she couldn’t bring herself to cut it extremely short. If it hung about ear length or a little longer, she would be safe. Besides, she attempted to reason with herself, it would be more practical and easier to deal with at that length.
Yevish stared for a moment more, then took all of Peace’s hair in his hand and swiftly drew the blade across it. There was a definite shink. Yevish looked down at his hand, all of Peace’s hair was there, attached to nothing. He gave a slight yell and dropped it as reality hit him. Peace quickly turned around and looked at the golden heap on the ground. Then she began to chuckle slightly. Yevish poked it with the knife in his hand, almost afraid it would come and choke him for what he had just done. Then he too started to chuckle. Peace gently picked up the hair, and mulled it over. It was so strange, to be able to hold it like this after all these years. She had had it trimmed before, taking only the very ends off, but never had she completely cut it like this. She was so confused at the sight of it. She wasn’t sure whether she should break down crying or burst out laughing at the irony of it. Yevish seemed to have reached to the same point of indecision. He reached over and tussled Peace’s now short hair. It was so strange. Peace laughed slightly as the short hairs lay themselves back down looking as if they had just been through a tornado.
“We can get a good price off of this.” Peace held up the hair and laughed again.
Yevish nodded and laughed along. Small tears were coursing down both their faces. They continued to sit there for a few minutes, completely at a loss. Both were unsure whether they ought to be laughing or crying, and whether the other was actually laughing or crying.  
Finally the both of them settled a bit. Their small tears dried up and their laughter ceased to a strange silence.
“Kload, how come you kept your hair long before? I mean, you were in the wars in Arthea weren’t you?” Yevish looked at her.
“Yes, I was.” Kload paused a moment and stared at her hair. Then she looked back up at Yevish. “Arthea is very different from here. From most of what we call the outerlands. In Arthea, everyone lives by a code of honor. The common folk, the warriors, those who fight for good and those who fight for evil things. All of us live by a sort of unwritten code of honor. The truth is, no one would have done that back in Arthea.”
“But they do it all the time here.” Yevish interrupted her, the oddness and shock of the last few days causing him to forget his general manners.
“Yes, they do. But back in Arthea, it just isn’t something that’s done. I suppose our code is a bit strange. For if two men were fighting, whose hair was roughly the same length and equally exposed, they would be able to use each other’s hair to the others disadvantage and their advantage, without being dishonorable. It is the same for any two or more challengers who have basically equal hair. But even with that as it is people simply don’t use it as a weapon or advantage. It’s just not something they do. “
Yevish nodded slowly, still somewhat dazed. “I wish they had such a code here too.” He said softly, only having halfway comprehended what Kload had said.
“As do I Yevish, as do I.” Peace nodded slowly, then she gently took the hair, wrapped it in a soft cloth, stood and gently placed it in a saddle bag. The morning sun was quite high in the sky, though the rather stunted tree they had stopped by provided a fair amount of shade.
Kload walked back over to Yevish and dropped his bedroll by him. He didn’t need it for warmth, but it made the ground feel a bit softer. “Get some sleep Yevish. We’ll start again when the sun begins to go down.”
Yevish nodded distantly, then rolled out the bedroll, laid on it and promptly went to sleep. Kload couldn’t blame the boy, it’d been a hard two days. She looked out over the scraggily lands. It had been over four weeks now, and still she didn’t have a good heading. She and Yevish were heading towards the heartlands, towards Qualith, and hopefully towards her brothers. She prayed that if she found them, they could help her find someone to help. She only had about two months left before Flieshiv would assume she wasn’t coming back. She didn’t know what he’d do then, but she knew that it would be desperate and likely cost many lives, if not all. She reached up and moved her hair around a bit. It was going to take some getting used to, that was for sure. Her head felt a bit light, after losing all the weight of her hair. She needed to get some sleep too. She grabbed her bedroll, patted Darkstar on her way by and laid down to rest. Before she let herself drift off to sleep, she asked God to lead her where she needed to go, to keep her people safe, and to keep her and Yevish safe. Things were getting harder than she had anticipated. Perhaps they were just getting harder in different ways than she had expected. Either way, God had a plan. With that comfort in mind Peace drifted off to sleep.