EJIMA
Bozo nodded to the commander, just as his squire handed him his helmet.
“A question sir,” Chimba stammered, “I just want to know why? There are still kingdoms out there, waiting to bow down to your sovereignty. Why choose this cursed village? Why walk us into a diseased land? And all for what, for the Hawk? Another one of your subjects?”
Bozo smiled and wore the helmet. It was made of silver but had been shaped like the face of a bull. Chimba’s sudden curiosity was beginning to get on his nerves, but he tried to swallow the man’s ignorance. He would reserve Chimba’s punishment for later.
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