There is dead silence now, and Teuns lifts his head once again. He sees Achib taking in his position, his one foot to the back and the other to the front. He sees him aiming, the shining knife high in front of his face.
Teuns shuts his eyes, and his heart pounds loudly in his chest.
“Remember Achib, at the first joint,” the chief warns. “If you should cut off the finger in any other place, you owe me a camel.”
“At the first joint, Your Highness,” Achib confirms.
Teuns listens to the complete silence, and the next moment, cheering breaks out. At the same time, he feels a sharp burning pain on his middle finger, near the first joint. He strains his head up fearfully.
The mob is pushing forward, cheering and elated about the blood they can see.
Teuns notice the razor-sharp knife shining
