Silence
Anonymous Me
@Empress
The wind swept across the field and tugged relentlessly at the clothes on the dead and wounded strewn across the ground. A single officer walked through the fields to examine those remaining. Some of them were unfortunate souls. If they were not strong enough to move themselves they were left by their companions. Never had he faced such a pitiful army in his life. Mostly made up of boys and farmers. There wasn’t a soul that knew what they were doing.
Some might have argued that it was a fight for freedom. What was freedom anyway? They were all peasants to fight under one lord only to have another take over. Majority of them likely fought because they were conscripted to their lord’s service. Truly it was only their lord’s head that was risk and his family’s freedom at stake. All the common folk would be left to live as they always had except they would be under his rule.
War was a way of life, an art, and a thing of beauty. It cleansed the land of the incapable and made the people hard. Marcellus finally stopped when he heard a man call for help. Peering into the eyes of the one crying he offered a hand. “Aye…and who might you be?”
Soon as the man realized who it was that answered his call he recoiled.
Marcellus didn’t move. Instead he held his gaze steady. “Oh don’t you worry lad. It’s all the same to me if you die here or return home. If I wanted to kill you I would have already.”
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A march started through the city as soon as the army was assembled and in better order. Always it proved to be beneficial to appear the conqueror in strength. All the ill and wounded had been put to camp only a few hours ago.
Riding at the front of the line was the conquering lord, Marcellus. He was himself an intimidating figure at 6’8” and nigh 240 pounds without an ounce of fat. In fact at that weight he was quite lean. Before riding into the city he had washed his face and arms from the blood. Enduring the unwelcome glares was nothing new and neither did it bother him. With time the people would come to accept their fate under his rule.
The wind swept across the field and tugged relentlessly at the clothes on the dead and wounded strewn across the ground. A single officer walked through the fields to examine those remaining. Some of them were unfortunate souls. If they were not strong enough to move themselves they were left by their companions. Never had he faced such a pitiful army in his life. Mostly made up of boys and farmers. There wasn’t a soul that knew what they were doing.
Some might have argued that it was a fight for freedom. What was freedom anyway? They were all peasants to fight under one lord only to have another take over. Majority of them likely fought because they were conscripted to their lord’s service. Truly it was only their lord’s head that was risk and his family’s freedom at stake. All the common folk would be left to live as they always had except they would be under his rule.
War was a way of life, an art, and a thing of beauty. It cleansed the land of the incapable and made the people hard. Marcellus finally stopped when he heard a man call for help. Peering into the eyes of the one crying he offered a hand. “Aye…and who might you be?”
Soon as the man realized who it was that answered his call he recoiled.
Marcellus didn’t move. Instead he held his gaze steady. “Oh don’t you worry lad. It’s all the same to me if you die here or return home. If I wanted to kill you I would have already.”
****************************************************************
A march started through the city as soon as the army was assembled and in better order. Always it proved to be beneficial to appear the conqueror in strength. All the ill and wounded had been put to camp only a few hours ago.
Riding at the front of the line was the conquering lord, Marcellus. He was himself an intimidating figure at 6’8” and nigh 240 pounds without an ounce of fat. In fact at that weight he was quite lean. Before riding into the city he had washed his face and arms from the blood. Enduring the unwelcome glares was nothing new and neither did it bother him. With time the people would come to accept their fate under his rule.
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