Into the struggle for Medieval Spain, between Christian and Moslem, the exiled pagan king, Sumunguru Kente finds himself.
Sumunguru stooped most of the way on his journey through the rough floored tunnel. He emerged, pushing aside a grate, near a stair well. At the top he was seen. Two guards rose from their sitting position on a bench. Their arms were folded as they approached Sumunguru, who swept out his sword and charged. With alacrity they drew their blades and the skirmish was on. They fought in unison, with skill. But Sumunguru was much faster and stronger. He slashed the arm of one fighter off.The second one he disposed of with a thrust to the stomach under its attempted parry. The results surprised him.The first staggered over to retrieve his arm which tensed, then relaxed, several times before becoming still. He fell atop it. The second sank to the floor. Looking with strange slanted eyes upon Sumunguru with a smile on his face, he made to speak but his head dropped to his chest and he toppled over.
There was no blood anywhere. Sumunguru quickly decapitated both. " I thank you in their names Black warrior." Sumunguru found himself facing another, burlier,fighting man, this one shield and axe wielding. " May I help you in the same manner?" " If you can." The battle between them began.