Someone to Blame: Part 3

         "What have you done?" Wyte hissed. The warm flicker of the firelight in Wyte's hut danced across his sunken face. It was a single circular room with a single sleeping  place set up  opposite the doorway. There was no luxury furniture to speak of, just a stand to hold Wyte's sword to the side of the entrance.

         "My duty as a healer." Tywin responded calmly. He knew that Wyte was irate, and had every right to be. Just not at him.

         "Your duty as a healer? What about your duty as a member of our tribe?" Wyte threw back.

         "I swore an oath to always help the sick and wounded."

         "You also took an oath to protect your kinsmen!"

         "Unlike you Wyte, I can not simply throw someone's life away. My life is dedicated to..."

         "SHUT UP!" Wyte screamed, "You are responsible for the death of our Chieftain, the punishment to which is death."

         "How am I responsible?" Tywin asked incredulously.

         "You are the one that helped that bastard to full health."

         "By the Gods! I know you are hurting Wyte, your father just died. But don't you think that I am in just as much pain? He was as much a father to me as to you!"

         "Don't you dare talk about my father like that you dog! Not after what you and that scarred man did." Wyte yelled, angry grief dripping from his poisonous words.

         "What makes you think that I knew he was going to attack?"

         "That scar. It is the mark of a veteran warrior. To have survived such a blow... You are a healer. You've seen such wounds; you should have known that he was not an innocent wanderer. Now you share in his blood stained past."

         "I know you need someone to blame now but..."

         "Get out now! Before you find out what the fury of my blade feels like." Wyte threatened coldly.

         "I see how it is." Tywin began to leave the hut. He paused for a moment in the doorway, listening to the faint chirp of crickets and turned back to Wyte. "Your father would have understood."

         "You bastard." Wyte exclaimed, tears in his eyes, and reached for his sword. Marching menacingly towards Tywin, he drew small circles slowly in the air with the tip of his blade. Tywin was paralyzed with fear and Wyte shot his arm out grabbing Tywin by the collar and pinned him to the door frame, put the deathly cold iron to his throat and whispered, "I will give until sunrise to run as far away you possibly can. Just know that if I catch you, you will not die quickly like my father. No, you will live long enough to regret everything you have ever done."