Conquest

Fury - Part Six

Solomon trod carefully, step after step, his eye wide with horror, his jaw gaped open and his arms trembling. Riding through the city, he saw death scattered everywhere. He didn't stop to look, examine, check for life. Whether it be hope or curiosity, or maybe even the Fury, he had to move forward, and when the field of corpses became too dense to ride through, he got off his horse and continued by foot. He had to move forward.

And now he stood, in front of a vast plaza with a pond in its center and a hill with a green, wide-trunk tree in the middle of the water, staring at a carnage.

Some of the surrounding buildings were burning, flames licking at the stone walls, sending tongues of black smoke upwards. The cobbled road almost vanished beneath the mountains of bodies and rivers of blood. Torn organs laid scattered on the ground, free from the sacks of skin which bounded them. Broken limbs stretched besides their owners in twisted angles, white shards of bones poking out of the torn and bloody flesh. gaping mouths swarmed with flies and eyes were open in amazement, anger, fear, staring lifeless at the serene and indifferent skies. The only thing that broke the deathly silence was the random cawing of crows, filling their stomach with the feast of corpses.

"By the gods..." Whispered Solomon. But whether they existed or not, no god bothered to show its presence in this place.

He heard the rattle of metal behind him but didn't bother looking back. A few seconds later Duncan stood next to him, his gauntlet hands clenched into fists. "What kind of man could do such a thing?" He asked through set teeth.

"Not a man," Solomon said with burning rage, "king."

Soldiers began to gather behind them, stopping short in sight of the massacre. Their jaws dropped, and some had their hand covering their mouth in horror. The Arch-Knight heard their mumbles, cursing quietly or praying in shock. One of the soldiers turned his head and retched on the floor.

Solomon turned his head to meet them, ordered, "Get in, search for survivors," and with a determined step entered the plaza.

His boots gave a sickening suction noise each time his foot rose from the mud and blood on the ground, making Solomon's stomach churn. No matter how hard he tried, he trod on torn pieces of men with almost every step he took until eventually his legs were covered in blood to the shins. His soldiers were more reluctant to enter the horrible tomb, but after a few threats by Duncan they began walking forward. Now the red plaza teemed with steps, which barely broke the grim silence reigning.

"Sir!" One of the soldiers called. Solomon rushed toward him, stumbling more than once on the slippery cobbles.

He reached to a house where three men stood by a wall, surrounding a filthy, torn-haired woman, blood gushing in rivers from the stump which was her left arm. She was on her knees, cradling a little bald corpse, torn almost completely. Her eyes faced downward, wide with horror, whispering of black flames, green eyes and fangs. Solomon knelt beside her and gave her a hesitant hand.

"Madam-" And she began screaming. She backed away until she clung to the wall of the building and shrunk as little as she could, bringing the dead baby closer to her with such fierceness that she didn't notice her broken fingers tearing its flesh.

She screamed and screamed until her cries died at her throat and were now only a hoarse shriek. Solomon breathed deeply and held her remaining shoulder, trying to be as comforting as possible. The girl became quiet and met his stare with sunken eyes. They were blood-shot, the black pupils gave no sign of sanity.

"What happened here?" He asked gently.

The girl stared at him with question and Solomon feared she will start screaming again. "The big man was here." She said eventually, an innocent look on her face.