By the time I woke up in the morning, Zul was lying down with his back turned against me. Even in his sleep, he had a good composure. How old could he be? Twenty five or twenty six years old? I thought about the responsibility he would be placing on his shoulders when he took over as chief. The dilemma that lay before him was one that could either break him or build him. How conflicting that could be, to have the chance to change your history but still do nothing just because it does not confirm to tradition. He might even be branded as a traitor to the land and ostracised. Then one of his brothers would take his place.
It seemed like he noticed I was awake for he quickly sat up on the bed and rubbed his hands on his face. I didn't say a word. I kept looking as he heaved a sigh and then
