The Dirty Rag
The Pharaoh's fisted hands rose above his head, pulling the whole army into a halt, yards away from their foe that spread across a definite horizon. You could see the end of the front row of the Persians holding on to their weapons.
"Why did we stop?" Joon Wo questioned as he struggled with his mount to halt, the beast was brimming with eagerness to go forward just like its rider.
"Bijan…Bijan is not there," Akhenaton finally said after a moment of torture to the younger man. But he couldn't be blamed his mind was multi-thinking different possibilities. "A man like Bijan is always at the top of his men." He narrowed his eyes.
Almost as if the other side saw the suspicion that was starting to run loose in front of the Pharaoh, they marched forward. Giving the Pharaoh no other option but to push forward as well. Soldiers raised their weapons as they prayed out loud for the Gods to be on their side.