Chapter 70 - Storm on the Hills
"Chief, do you really think they will help us?" a young warrior questioned, voice heavy with doubt.
"We have no choice but to have faith. God has yet to abandon us," the chief said, trying to reassure him.
"You saw how they came—they killed with no hesitation. Their leader, that Prince, wields that large axe like it’s just a stick. If they decide to turn on us, we will never survive that."
The old man sighed. "I understand your fear. They came like a storm, like spirits from some ancient tale. But at the end of the day, they saved us. How many of us would have died today if they hadn’t arrived? It’s only a matter of time before our entire village becomes a graveyard. We have prayed for salvation every single day. Maybe this is God’s answer."
The warrior didn’t reply. The weight of silence pressed between them.
The chief’s gaze turned upward. "If this is the only chance we have to save our people, we might as well take it. The emperor has not responded to our pleas. The Adal have surrounded our kingdom, taking and slaughtering one village at a time. Maybe this time... the Lord has not forgotten us."
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Khisa and his Shadows rode east, cutting through the night like silent phantoms. They traveled in silence, their horses well-trained to tread lightly. Each warrior kept their weapon ready, senses sharp.
Smoke.
The faint grey trails curled into the dark sky. They crouched atop a ridge and looked down. Below them, tucked in the hills like a cancerous wound, was the Adal camp.
Dozens of tents. Campfires. Muskets stacked in racks. Laughing soldiers. Screams.