Chapter 8

Bojan proceeded to lay Limah down on her back and he loosed the cashmere fabric from his body, upon which he laid the baby.

''You must be thirst now, M'lady,'' Bojan said, looking at Limah's reddened eyeballs and tired face as he made to head to the ocean to fetch some water. ''I should get you some water.''

In the nick of the moment, Limah feebly grabbed Bojan by the arm before he set forth for the ocean. She looked at the Balkan with her eyelids almost dropping close.

''Thank you, Macho-man,'' Limah muttered, managing a smile and looking bereft of energy. ''You lost it all for me. Long may your fortunes be.''

Bojan only crumpled his face and nodded in response. Limah requested that he sustain her on his knee and the baby should be brought into her arms.

Limah cradled the baby in her arms and managed a smile at her child. She, then, passed the baby to Bojan and said, ''Maximus. His name is Maximus.''

''Maximus.'' Bojan repeated arching his eyebrows in awe of the name.

''Yes, Maximus, meaning the Greatest,'' Limah explained. ''He shall become the one true king of the world, bringing justice to the land. No king shall have such might as his.''

Bojan nodded in awe of the prophecy as he received the baby from Limah.

''He is yours now,'' Limah continue. ''He's the best gift of the gods to humankind. Shield him with all you have, Macho-man. Protect him.''

Limah stared feebly at Bojan for a while as she had her head sustained on his knee. ''I shall not continue in this journey, Macho-man.''

Limah fixed her gaze feebly on Bojan's until her eyelids dropped close. The Balkan could only jerk his head in astonishment and toss Limah in a bid to jerk her back to life, but the former priestess of Kinsas was gone. She had transitioned to the otherworldly realm.

As was the ritual, Bojan bestowed upon the dead Limah proper funeral rites as the priestess was buried beside the expanse of ocean along the isthmus of Corinth.

It was not long before Bojan hit the long path that led to the port of the Balkan peninsula. He tucked the baby back in his chest pouch and trudged all the way down the forlorn Isthmus. It was no mean journey for Bojan as the Balkan never showed signs of wearing out during his lengthy navigation to find his way back home.

Bojan trudged the lonely path all alone until he had his home within eyeshot. He came to cross the port of the Balkan Peninsula to register himself back on home soil. However, the merchant's arrival back home was not particularly the most pleasant sight to behold, rather it was an arrival that drew hostile attention, curious and thorny looks from the natives and a boiling news that suddenly went rife of the only surviving Balkan trader from the hundreds of them that were put to their instant death, ostensibly, on the king's order.

Bojan ventured into his homeland, having the baby tucked in his pouch still. While he walked through the streets, he was barraged with different curious looks from from the city's square and different homes in the city. He could see small clusters of men and women forming across the market square as they whispered to each other, gossiping and spreading rumours about him amidst themselves. For once, Bojan felt a certain disconnect from his people. He felt he had been stripped of his identity and his own flesh and blood.i The Balkan merchant felt nothing but empty this time as the sense of kinship had all but varnished in an instant.

He forged ahead across the city regardless and never imagined that he looked odd with the baby he had tucked in his handmade pouch. His fellow Balkans looked at him with a scornful and cold approach, but he could only look back curiously and wondered what he had done wrong. He felt he should be should be celebrated and welcomed with open arms but, right now, all he was getting was a mass hostility and cold atmosphere from his people.

Out of the blue, Bojan saw his wife scurrying towards him. She looked worried rather than excited that he had survived the onslaught of King Gaius and his troop. But then, it was not a moment for such thing as his wife came crashing down before him, pleading with him to leave the city as soon as he could. Much to Bojan's shock, rather than welcoming him back home, his wife came kneeling before him in the market square to leave the city before the Balkan king could discover his presence.

''You must leave this city now, Bojan,'' urged his wife, crying, much to Bojan's astonishment. ''King Dragan has ordered his soldiers to behead you at any slightest sight of you. You must leave now.''

Bojan felt nothing daunted as he couldn't picture himself in the wrong. It was his city. He had grown up here and had been made to defend the cultural dignity and value system against such men as Bastian and his bloodthirsty troop. Why should King Dragan suddenly want him to leave the city for no valid reasons? Bojan questioned himself from within.

It was not long before a troop of soldiers stormed the market square and greeted Bojan back with nothing but weapons of attack. Obviously, they were King Dragan's men and had been sent by him. There were three of them. They seized Bojan by his arms and removed the baby from his pouch before leading them to Dragan's pretorium.

King Dragan had heard about the mass killing of the Balkans at the port of the city of Athena. He had heard about the cause of the mass attack on his people and the king was obviously not pleased with the turn of events between the Athenean soldiers and the Balkan travellers and merchants. But then, in spite of himself, he dared not to think about raising a counter-attacking troop to square up with Athena in retaliation. He was quite aware of Athena's absolute martial superiority and a rich history amongst many kingdoms. The kingdom of Athena reigned supreme amongst the rest as they could boast of experienced soldiers and warriors in their ranks.

Soon enough, Bojan had himself and the infant brought to Dragan's pretorium. The Balkan king seethed with rage at the sight of Bojan. He deemed him a sheer disgrace and embarrassment upon the values of the Balkans.

''This man. This Bojan has brought upon this city on this day a shame that will never be forgotten,'' said Dragan addressing the natives who gathered outside his pretorium. ''For his selfish interest and covetousness, he risked the lives of over 500 Balkans.''

Again, Bojan felt nothing but shame for himself as he had been forced to his knees and shackled before King Dragan. He drooped his head in shame. He wished he had never had to risk the lives of his people to help Limah and her child escape Athena.

''The Balkans remember this day--this lettered day--in their history,'' Dragan continued sounding firm and definite with his fine voice typical of a monarch, ''and we shall never forgive Bojan for the plague of death he has brought upon our people.''

A wave of murmurs and side talks passed across the gathering of the natives each time Dragan paused his speech.

''Honourable people, bereaved men and women,'' continued Dragan taking a brief pause before proceeding with his speech. ''We know what we do to such men in this kingdom before they meet their maker.''

As soon as Dragan said this, the natives who had gathered together burst into a chant urging the king to approve of their request.

''Take him to the pillory! Take him to the pillory!! Take him to the pillory!!?''

Those were the voices of the natives. They wanted Bojan to brought to the pillory as they would have a pound of their flesh right there. They would be able to throw stones at Donovan's head until he met his death.

The natives' chants lingered on for a while before the king finally spoke again to decision Bojan's and the baby's fates.

''And there you have it!'' Dragan continued crumpling his face in a mild frown. ''Bojan shall be taken to the pillory at the market square tomorrow morning, and everyone shall have a pound of their flesh till he drops dead.''

Dragan's decision sat pretty well with the natives as they made some indistinct noises of satisfaction. Then, Dragan proceeded to lift the infant with one arm, showing his utter disdain for the infant.

''And this right here is the cursed child,'' said Dragan still addressing the natives. ''This is the so-called treasure--the very reason--that has brought death upon the 500 Balkans. The sole reason that even Bojan has to meet his own maker soon. Of course, a bringer of death shall be put to sword.''