Claiming speech

He throws the bloody muscular organ down onto the floor. It lands in a 'squish' sort of sound, blood splattering everywhere. The crowd of nearly 200 men being to chatted in disgust, wondering whose heart lay on the floor there. I sit on the pillow and try not to retch from the sight of the heart of a deceased man lying limply on the stone floors. It was a much prettier sight wrapped in the cloth. When Cesar begins to speak, I do not understand what he says. But my clever mind can infer.

"Wannan shi ne zuciyar mutum," he says, pointing at the red organ on the stone floor, leaking blood onto the floor.

"An tsage daga kirji da mutum ya yi kokari ya sa hannunsa a kan wata mace. Kuma wãne ne mace? Ita Tiger kambori, na mace daga karfe mulkokin Bellechester."

(This is the heart of a man. It was torn from the chest of a man that tried to lay his hands on a woman. And who is the woman? She is Tiger Claw, my woman from the iron kingdom of Bellechester.)

The men in the room are silent, eyes wi