As the Golden Serpent was brought into the presence of Eorl the Young, he glanced round at the decoration of the room- surprisingly cultured, in spite of the war trophies hanging from the walls after the purge of Balchoth, and at least warm enough to fend off the chill of the storm weather beyond the keep's walls- and noted that despite the semi-legible tongue in which the guard spoke, there was definite disgust toward Saptheth specifically. This was then mirrored in the far more wieldy Westron tongue spoken by Eorl himself... a very strong man. Almost too much so to function effectively as a soldier, many Easterlings would have said, at least in the more refined styles of combat they utilised compared to the detestably crude hacking of an Endorian... "knight", he seemed to recall. Regardless, Saptheth couldn't help but scoff quietly at the king's latter question.

'I don't suppose your prisoners are often chained to the wall of their prison,' he stated bluntly, tacitly leaving out how he'd been stripped bare to boot. 'Then again, your people slaughtered mine most un... needed-ly, and given my role in your society and the position I held before then, it is only wise to take... prrre-venting actions, especially when none will protest at the resulting... at how the prisoner is treated. In fact, I believe your new realm is built on the very battlefield the Balchothi were driven from. [i]May my kin's ghosts prevent your sleep,[/i]' he uttered, reverting to his native Balchothi tongue, a rolling language of many softer syllables and long consonants, much like the deserts his race originated from. Usually, the curse was reserved as a lethal insult to the murderer of one's family members in the course of revenge, but since Saptheth's family- and every other Balchothi- had likely been killed by this man by proxy, it seemed appropriate to wish such dread upon the ruler of Rohan.

'As for why I am here,' Saptheth continued blithely, 'I can only assume you intend for me to become your... I believe the word you use is "dog". A hired minion, beaten into submission until he does his master's bidding.' The disgust in his tone is palpable, clearly highlighting his impression of the idea. 'Understand that this will not happen, and that bringing me to you at all was... unwise.' The serpent glances round the room again, this time at the many guards aiming their crossbows in his direction.

'I could kill you, if I wanted, Eorl leader of Rohan,' he proclaims. 'It would not be difficult, despite the best efforts of the men to either side of me. For all the crossbowmen you have here, I would surely die, but from this distance, I could readily hurl my spear through your chest and your throne alike before the first bolt struck me. Indeed, I ought to do so to avenge my race and cripple your kingdom; the fact that I do not is a sign of my... forgiving? Forgiving. Yessss.' He made a light hissing noise to punctuate his final word, staring directly toward the king as a form of intimidation. In truth, the real reason he did not slay the king at that moment was twofold: it would be counterproductive after being snatched from the jaws of death, and he did not in fact believe his own declaration of ability, or at least did not think it would hold true enough to follow through on, especially as both soldiers re-tightened their grips on his forearms. He had tempted fate once already, and was only given a reprieve by the same measure; tempting it yet again would surely give it cause to retract all assistance, with the relevant consequences. No, if he ever did plan to kill Eorl, it would have to be at the moment of least risk, both to his health and to his chance of failure. For now, he could only wait to see how the man responded to his words.