Blood is everywhere on the field. Blood is glorious. Blood is battle. It shouldn't be like this, this horrible, horrible way, the stench so thick and dark, the color so anguished and tainted… But it makes me feel so alive.
"We cannot lose!" I scream, "Keep going forward!" The soldiers follow, and I feel more of them fall, but I don't pay them any heed. I reach the entrance, where the stone arch bearing our family's sigil of two crossed axes stands with thick wooden doors that will lead way to my victory.
"Bring down the gate!" I yell, "And keep your shields up!" The soldiers somehow manage to bring the log up to me without getting themselves killed. The cries of the wounded are far fewer, but they sound louder, and they drown out all else and give me a surge of power.
The massive log slams into the door with a deadening thud, splintering the first bit of the entrance.
"Again!" And again and again. Finally, the door completely splits open as sharp fragments flying through the air in a single burst. With a victorious cry, I charge forward into the castle and my men follow.
The first of the resisters come and try to stop us, desperately clutching weapons they clearly cannot use in their hands. They come towards us with open arms, and blood flies from their bodies as sharp metal meets soft flesh and weak bones. The time seems to slow down, but everything is blurred and sped up at the same time. I lunge at whatever moves, not bothering to see what becomes of it after the blade of my axe has met its mark.
Yes, yes! THIS is battle! The thrill of movement, the sounds of weapons, the feeling of strength in the arms, the cloud in the mind, the taste of power over another, the heat…
Why is it this hot? Even under the layer of blood and sweat that coats my skin, it still shouldn't be this hot, so dry and cackling…
Men scream with fear, and I can barely make out the words of "Fire!" and "Run!" that now fill the air.
"No, no!" I yell fervently, "We cannot leave! We haven't won yet!" But no one listens.
"Cowards!" Rubble and stone fall around me as frames of burning orange and yellow timber collapse, as flimsy as cloth dolls. No one is left save the still bodies, the battle is over, the castle is lost, and I am forced to join my men in retreat.
This is what defeat is. Never taste this again.
I won't.
••••
"What I want to know? You ask me what I want to know? Well, I'll tell you. Just exactly HOW THE FUCK did the castle catch on fire?!" I roar, glaring at my remaining men. The arrows caused me to lose a little less than half my men, something I was wholly unprepared for. The injured have arrows sticking out of their stomachs, thighs, legs, or arms, or are burned from the flames. Many of the healthy ones are still coated in a thin, hardened coat of blackened red and soot. A man with blood in his beard clears his throat.
"I think a torch was accidently knocked over during the fighting, my lord," blood beard says hesitantly. I glower down at him.
"Do you think or do you know?" I demand. He turns red.
"I think I know," he says tentatively, "Anndrais was the one who actually saw it happen, see?"
"And where is this Anndrais now?" I growl.
"Dead," someone speaks up. I turn to see tattoos shoving through the crowd.
"Anndrais was my little brother," he says slowly, clear anger on his face, "And now he is dead because of your failure of a plan!"
"There are casualties in war," I snap, "Get used to it!"
"Maybe there would have been less if you had even bothered to listen!" he roars, his face now contorted with rage, "There was nothing worth fighting, much less dying for in that castle! I tried to tell you that your brothers had all the best archers on their side, but you were only concerned with yourself and what you wanted!" He begins to walk away.
"And where do you think you're going?" I growl.
"To your brothers," he replies tonelessly, "I came to you when this all began because I thought you were the rightful king, that your strength would make the kingdom great. But now I see why your father did not want that. With strength and nothing else, you are nothing but an evil, greedy monster. I don't know about the rest of us, but I don't want to live in a place with a devil for king."
"Do you honestly think they will welcome you?" I laugh, hiding my inner fear and rage.
"Maybe they will, maybe they won't. Even if they're worse than you, it doesn't matter. They weren't the ones that led my brother to his death, and they might at least bother to learn my name and treat me like a human being."
Before he can take another step, I grab a long sword from the nearest soldier and run the blade through his heart. There's that beautiful tension in his body as he realizes what has happened, then limpness as the red liquid drips down his body and he collapses in a ragged heap as the life leaves his body.
"Does anybody else wish to leave?" I question, scanning the crowd. None of them dare to make eye contact. I nod, satisfied.
"Good. Now we plan for our next attack."
