The murmurs among the warriors grew louder, their voices laced with confusion and unease.
"What in the name of the ancestors is this?" one of them muttered "Why does he bow?Does he want to surrender?''
"This doesn't feel right," another grumbled, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Look at his clothes! Who wears silk to war?"
"Maybe he's a priest?" someone offered hesitantly. "Perhaps he's come to beg for his gods to spare them."
"A priest?" another scoffed. "What priest walks without an escort? What priest bows to warriors instead of raising his hands to the sky?"
"He's not armed," a younger warrior pointed out, his voice uncertain. "Should we just—?" He made a quick, slicing motion with his hand across his throat.