He was fearless. He was only a shard of a boy, not yet a man - Kiari the heir of the Shehu of Bornu. But he had a lion's heart, and he mounted his giant horse like a practiced cavalryman. And he stared into the eyes of the enemy fiercely, with his brothers in arms.
That day was the last day. His mother had had a premonition, but this boy did not entertain the fears of women, he was not held back by the domestic attachments that a child must heed, as he charged onto danger with a single thought in his head - victory to his people.
And in the evening, when the dust finally settled, it was not the blood of a boy that flowed freely into the sand - it was the blood of one of the finest warriors the land had ever seen.