"I was entering your country when I was violently assaulted and bound with thongs of buckskin." Ammon looked ruefully, down at his chafed ankles.
"May I ask what you were entering the country for?"
"I came here to live."
"You came here to live!" repeated the king stupidly.
"Yes, and I may stay until I die."
"Which may be soon, judging by the fate that your last two countrymen, that encroached on my borders, met. What crime did you commit in Zarahemla that makes you an outcast?"
"None. I came here of choice, not of necessity."
"Then you are a merchant?"
"No. I am a king's son and need nu money."
Lamoni looked puzzled. Clearly he could not understand this man, yet his words carried conviction.