Carrion Crows
I sighed deeply, attempting to expel the fear and exhaustion that gripped my chest with claws of ice. From the field below, there rose the acrid scent of blood mixed with sweat. The smell of the battlefield.The mist curled in the valley, laying low to the ground like a shroud, and the wind blew my hair about my face as it howled through accross the field. It was nearly time. Beneath me, Kiska shifted and whickered softly, sensing my anxiety. I patted his sweaty neck and turned my attention to my men. Their upturned faces, bleak and weary, knowing the end was near, looking to me, to their general, to raise their spirits and tell them there ws still a reason to draw steel against the enemy.It was the last battle. One more senseless slaughter and we could return to our homes. I didn't have the heart. I wanted to close my eyes, turn away, and forget the horror we had already seen that day. But their faces followed me, their cries echoing deep within my soul. "What are we dying for?" they asked. I had no reply.
In the distance, there began the steady beat of the enemy's drum. Again and again, the steady rhythm resonating deep within my heart. I thought of my homeland, and my son. He smiled back at me, waving enthusiastically, while his nurse stood near, smiling at his excitement. Flowers bent in the soft breeze, and the sun was bright on the green fields. I breathed deeply. Home. Slowly, I returned to bitter reality, the expectant faces of my men. I had my answer.
Setting spur to Kiska's sides, I rode to the front of the line and faced the remainder of the once-strong Phoenix Guard, pride of the king's legions, now reduced to a mere hundred men. The sight of my bedraggled companions brought clarity to my mind, and I was sure of my words. Remembering all we had shared together, the claws of fear and exahstion slowly loosed their hold. I raised my voice above the steady beat of the drum. "Brothers!" I called, "Friends and comrades. We stand here today, in the face of the enemy, and we wait for death. We wait to take more lives." A low murmur swept through the ranks, but I continued. "What are we dying for? For what great cause have so many fallen?" This question was greeted with silence, broken only by the constant drum beat that was drawing ever nearer. "My Friends, I tell you thus. We are not here for any king, prince or lord. No politician, statesman or senator bid us come. We are free, and we stand here ready to maintain that freedom. These men," here I pointed to the gathering foe, growing ever more visible through the twirling mist at the bottom of the valley,"Want to take that away! They come to enslave us all, and take all that we have. What do we fight for, you ask? Why do we die?" Drawing my sword, I raised it above my head,and it glinted proudly in the dim light. "We fight for our families! For our lands and homes! We fight to be free!" I wheeled around to face the advancing army, nearly upon us. Behind me, there was a gathering mutter that transformed, phoenix like fom the ashes of fear, into a cry that rang out over the rattle of the enemies spears and the crash of the drums as the battle was joined. "Freedom!"
Reponding to my mere thought, Kiska surged forward, carrying me towards my fate. We rode down the ridge and accross the field, wind in our faces as we bore down upon the enemy. With a crash like the hammer of the thunder god himself, our two forces met, and all became a haze of blood, dirt, sweat and the cries of the dying. I became a vicious animal, struggling only to survive in the the hellish atmosphere of battle. It strikes me still as strange, the things that stick in the mind and remind me vividly, years after,of that day. The shining gold dragon on the helm of the first man that fell to the bite of my sword. The great beard on the man who tried to take my head off with a battle axe. It was braided with rings of metal, the sign of a great warrior, and beads of wood and gold. The way the light faded from his ees as his lifeblood splashed up my arms.
At last, the long last, there was no one left to kill. So I merely stood in a circle of dead men,coated in blood, most of it the enemy's and some of it my own, watching as the last of the enemy fell to our victorious force. Looking at the battlefield, at the slain, both friend and foe. The men that would never return to their families, and no more delight in the light of day, and I tried to tell myself that it had been worth it. They had attacked me and mine, I had defended. I was in the right, and had come out on top. "No," said a voice behind me," We were not in the right." I turned face the speaker, and saw my first lieutenant. He limped, and there was a long gash accross his face, crossing through his mangled right eye. "We had to do it, but we were not right." He finished quietly. I nodded, mulling over his words. "Was it worth it?" I asked, hardly daring to voice the question. I stared out at the vast number of dead, deading his reply. Already the crows, black minions of the underworld, were descending upon the dead. He followed my gaze, a grim set to his face, and his eyes hardened. "Yes," he said, barely speaking, "It was."He touched my arm lightly. "Let us away, my lady, for today's battle is over, but the greater war is only just beginning. Together, battered and worn, we supported one another off the field to the sounds of victory. Not the call of trumpets, nor a chorus of cheers, but the wind moaning through the hills, and the harsh calls of the carrion crows.
In the distance, there began the steady beat of the enemy's drum. Again and again, the steady rhythm resonating deep within my heart. I thought of my homeland, and my son. He smiled back at me, waving enthusiastically, while his nurse stood near, smiling at his excitement. Flowers bent in the soft breeze, and the sun was bright on the green fields. I breathed deeply. Home. Slowly, I returned to bitter reality, the expectant faces of my men. I had my answer.
Setting spur to Kiska's sides, I rode to the front of the line and faced the remainder of the once-strong Phoenix Guard, pride of the king's legions, now reduced to a mere hundred men. The sight of my bedraggled companions brought clarity to my mind, and I was sure of my words. Remembering all we had shared together, the claws of fear and exahstion slowly loosed their hold. I raised my voice above the steady beat of the drum. "Brothers!" I called, "Friends and comrades. We stand here today, in the face of the enemy, and we wait for death. We wait to take more lives." A low murmur swept through the ranks, but I continued. "What are we dying for? For what great cause have so many fallen?" This question was greeted with silence, broken only by the constant drum beat that was drawing ever nearer. "My Friends, I tell you thus. We are not here for any king, prince or lord. No politician, statesman or senator bid us come. We are free, and we stand here ready to maintain that freedom. These men," here I pointed to the gathering foe, growing ever more visible through the twirling mist at the bottom of the valley,"Want to take that away! They come to enslave us all, and take all that we have. What do we fight for, you ask? Why do we die?" Drawing my sword, I raised it above my head,and it glinted proudly in the dim light. "We fight for our families! For our lands and homes! We fight to be free!" I wheeled around to face the advancing army, nearly upon us. Behind me, there was a gathering mutter that transformed, phoenix like fom the ashes of fear, into a cry that rang out over the rattle of the enemies spears and the crash of the drums as the battle was joined. "Freedom!"
Reponding to my mere thought, Kiska surged forward, carrying me towards my fate. We rode down the ridge and accross the field, wind in our faces as we bore down upon the enemy. With a crash like the hammer of the thunder god himself, our two forces met, and all became a haze of blood, dirt, sweat and the cries of the dying. I became a vicious animal, struggling only to survive in the the hellish atmosphere of battle. It strikes me still as strange, the things that stick in the mind and remind me vividly, years after,of that day. The shining gold dragon on the helm of the first man that fell to the bite of my sword. The great beard on the man who tried to take my head off with a battle axe. It was braided with rings of metal, the sign of a great warrior, and beads of wood and gold. The way the light faded from his ees as his lifeblood splashed up my arms.
At last, the long last, there was no one left to kill. So I merely stood in a circle of dead men,coated in blood, most of it the enemy's and some of it my own, watching as the last of the enemy fell to our victorious force. Looking at the battlefield, at the slain, both friend and foe. The men that would never return to their families, and no more delight in the light of day, and I tried to tell myself that it had been worth it. They had attacked me and mine, I had defended. I was in the right, and had come out on top. "No," said a voice behind me," We were not in the right." I turned face the speaker, and saw my first lieutenant. He limped, and there was a long gash accross his face, crossing through his mangled right eye. "We had to do it, but we were not right." He finished quietly. I nodded, mulling over his words. "Was it worth it?" I asked, hardly daring to voice the question. I stared out at the vast number of dead, deading his reply. Already the crows, black minions of the underworld, were descending upon the dead. He followed my gaze, a grim set to his face, and his eyes hardened. "Yes," he said, barely speaking, "It was."He touched my arm lightly. "Let us away, my lady, for today's battle is over, but the greater war is only just beginning. Together, battered and worn, we supported one another off the field to the sounds of victory. Not the call of trumpets, nor a chorus of cheers, but the wind moaning through the hills, and the harsh calls of the carrion crows.