Ada stroked her brow and relaxed her hands on the table. Her eyes traveled back and forth from one edge of the table to the other, studying the dried sticks that were arranged on it. The twigs which were tallied in ten represented a dozen solder.

“This would be suicide,” Ada muttered and pace the room.

“Why? Our men have more endurance.” King Obidike said. The confidence in his eyes sent a chill down Ada’s spine. He has no idea what the warriors of Alaocha were like. Perhaps he had never seen war before in his life.

“Endurance would have mattered if we weren’t outnumbered,” and less skilled. Ada stroked her brow again. “And besides, they have the hands of the god

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