A Battle Short.

We stand in line, the evening fog playing tricks with my vision. I can't see what stands before me. A line of the dead. A wall of horror. Those sent to destroy and slaughter. Like shadows they move in the dim light, odd sparks of silver as the failing light beams off a sword. But we stand before them. A force sent to silence the screams. To end the pain they have beheld on so many of our people. We join and meet on the field, a few acres of lush green. A green soon to be slick with the blood of hundreds. Ours and theirs. Perhaps mine. I stand in line my shoulder touching those beside me. Our shields locked in an essential bond between warriors. I look beside me to a face I know only in passing. A helmet covers his face, all but his mouth and teeth which he bares in aggression. Hot air like dragon’s breath circles above us as war rage slowly crackles in our veins. I look to my other side to her face, her blonde hair braided back to halo kohl eyes. Like my own, the black has run rivers down her cheeks. In war we appear to cry tears of the darkest blood. A hellish nightmare, the shield-maidens of our land. I look to the enemy again. The last of the golden evening light dancing through the trees; such a beautiful thing. A stark contrast to what will soon be unleashed beneath its beauty. Finally but always, I look to him. Standing at the front of us all; his mighty army. Standing ahead of the shield wall he holds nothing but his sword, a perfect extension of his warrior soul. His worn leather armour is strong about his body, promising protection should he need it. He's counting those he can see. He's calculating those we can kill. He will win this war. This war that could end thousands of deaths. We know what this means. He knows what he must do. He is our leader, our general and my love. He turns then, clearly decided on our plan of attack. He glares along the front row, looking each soldier in the eye. A silent request, will you die for me? Will you die for your people? Will you fight with every fibre of your being for the ones you love? And always, a silent yes. A nod of every man and woman. Until he reaches me. As I gaze into those honeyed eyes that before seemed so full of battle rage; I see only love. The honey softens to liquid as he looks to me, at his warrior love. His request was already asked the night before. I would die for him, as he would me and so I smile at him. In the middle of a war but before the bloodshed can begin; I smile at the love of my life. His eyes light up, the darkness banished for just a moment. He raises his hand to his heart, that which belongs to me, for the briefest touch before taking a breath in. A deep breath before the plunge. Or the fall. We will know soon enough.

We tried to stay together. At least in each other's eye line. Enough to help should either need it. It lasted a while when the slaughter began. An arrow from their side piercing through the mist to land in the heart of the man beside me. He who was so eager to fight. As his body thumped to the ground the war cries began in shrieks and howls as our army turned feral. A single nod from our leader silently ordering us to charge and so we were unleashed. Shield to shield, swords ready to taste blood we ran. The crash of our meeting echoed out through the world. Wood splintered into wood and I hit my head so hard on my own shield I thought I'd pass out. But I remained afoot and began slashing with my sword. Stabbing at flesh and wood and leather, at anything the other side of that wall. Blood splashes up in great spurts of red and rains down upon us. We are soon a crimson army, the only other colours are our shields. Flashes of blue and green and black from the clans of our lands. All together as one force. A force now pushing hard against their lines. Shields crack and splinter as the pressure builds between us. But we hold our wall and so do they. As one warrior falls another moves in swiftly to take the place. I cannot tell how many we have lost. Bones crack beneath our boots as we clamber over fallen friends, with blood curdling cries bellowing out from those not yet dead. But the wall is moving and so we must move with it. A sword bursts through my right side. A gap in our shields allowing the metal to flash down across my face. I cry out as my vision blurs and I see the world like looking through water. The world spins as my cheek starts to burn like hot nettles on my skin. I shrink back from the front line, a fellow clansman behind me instantly taking my position. A hot sticky liquid begins to flow freely down my mud flecked skin staining my hair and armour scarlet. My own voice breaks through the blinding agony and shouts; Fight!

I wipe my cheek with my filthy tunic sleeve and it comes away slick with blood. I reach down and grab at the earth now muddy and soft. I clench my teeth as I slam my hand on the wound, packing the sticky clay against the skin. Infection will follow I have no doubts but the blood loss with ease somewhat. Enough to continue. Once the blistering pain fades slightly I wipe my eyes to clear the red haze and see the battle once more. I'm a few metres back from the front line. I glance around looking for any sign of the enemy having broken through. No one catches my eye. Our forces are slowly gaining ground. Pushing further and further against the enemy, leaving bodies in their wake. I take a deep breath of the now chill night air and exhale up to the sky already littered with stars. Such a beautiful sight. I look down again, eyes blazing with the rage once again building in my core. They call to me with frenzied cries and so I march forward back into the fray.

The wall is broken. As both sides collapse in exhaustion our heads touch theirs as we crumple to the rotting earth. Shields lay shattered upon the ground or half covering bodies they failed to protect. That moment. That is where the real battle begins, where the blood lust takes over and nothing matters but your sword and the blood it draws. We quickly stumble up to face them, an army of black with the blood now drying on their armour. Lines are reformed and shoulders are once again joined. Long swords are drawn as my eyes dart through our lines, searching for my heart. I can't see him. Does he already litter the ground? Has he fallen too soon? As my pulse begins to race out of control a shadow appears blocking my vision and a hand slowly grazes my left cheek. The feel is intoxicating. My body burns with the protection that touch holds. It speaks of a promise that I will never leave you. A bloody face comes into view with golden eyes blazing straight into my own. They search my face and linger on the wound now festering on my right cheek. A finger lightly inspects the gash, making me flinch and ripples my vision. Lips crusted with blood press to my forehead.

After his comforting touch we fight beside one another. Always close. Every warrior that comes our way dies. The bodies that begin building at our feet make my stomach turn and I retch on the ground. A sudden hand on the back of my neck gives a cooling touch to my burning hot skin. I take the hand in mine and lock eyes with him. We stand in a cocoon amidst the chaos. A stolen minute of peace. Nothing matters but this. Our hands intertwined as our souls will always be. Within an instant hands grab at my shoulders and waist and pull me back with such force my hand is ripped from his. Nails run across each other's skin as we are dragged away from each other. Bloodied fingers tear at leather and skin as I thrash to get back to my leader. He races to me reaching for those ounwelcome hands but suddenly stops short. He stands completely still. Frozen in time. His eyes burn with pure fear and I frantically search his body for a exit wound. An arrow head or sword piercing through his chest; but nothing. He is unharmed. I feel a sudden cold kiss at my throat as a knife is run lightly over my wind pipe. My head is yanked back by my hair to reveal my throat fully. The knife is teasingly run along my skin deeper than before and I feel the skin break. A thin line of red beads at my throat. Not deep enough to kill but my veins run cold with fear. And the look in his eyes. I would destroy the whole world not to see that pain again. Everything turns to slow motion. As my fear takes over, as he falls to his knees mud spurting up around him. As he drops his sword to the ground and lays his hands bare to the enemy. He stares at me pleading a silent apology; for giving in. For giving up. In that split second I decide enough. I do not wish to die, but I will not see my love on his knees for anyone. Not even for me. Within a second I smash my head backwards meeting flesh and bones crunch in response. The knife sinks into my throat as my captor falls backwards taking me down with him. We land with a sickening thud and I manage to twist out of his grip and on top of him. I straddle his stomach as chaos unleashes above me. I hear my loves' battle cry as he rips through the others who held me. His eyes, his face. The man I look down at, the enemy I pictured with the devils eyes and a soul of darkness is merely a boy. With blue eyes no doubt like his mothers. And hair that was most likely chestnut when clean. A child. Playing at war. Pulling my knife from my boot I hold it to his throat, and watch as no fear comes to his eyes. His lips tremble but he remains strong in the face of death. Someone so young should not be here. Not be taking life. He should be out there living his. I slide my knife slowly along his skin, the same pattern he did only moments ago on mine. Do I kill him? He who would spill my blood so heartlessly. Do it in front of my love to feast on his agony? Anger laces through my body as he whispers; ‘do it’. Such a quiet voice but I hear it like a shout. A yell into my soul to take this life. His eyes swell as he waits for my decision. Life or death. To kill or be killed. I look around at the mountains of bodies already buzzing with flies my stomach rolling with disgust. This child will not be part of that. I lean in close to his left ear, my throat so dry my voice is a mere rasp. ‘Leave this field. Leave this war. Battles are won by deaths of the young to save the old, yet the old die too soon’. I hear a sharp intake of breath as he relaxes. ‘Run’ I whisper as I shift off him. And he does. He takes a final study of me and somewhere in his eyes hidden under battle anger and hate; there is gratitude. Someday he will remember this kindness granted to him and may perhaps give it in return.

Screaming. It's like hell. The final layer of hell as I look around me. The darkness pit of nightmares and chaos you could imagine. I can’t make out friend from foe as the shadows dart across the field. Mud now cakes my skin, both dried and wet I can barely move. I swing my sword at an oncoming enemy and take them out with a blow to the throat. Scarlet bursts through the air showering down on me. I have lost count of my kills though perhaps its a number so great I needn't wish to know. I look around at the fallen and the fighting, the lush green now a distance memory. Red rivers snaking through the gore. The smell blocks your senses, such a deep stench of iron and butchery I try to hold down my own insides. There’s a roaring so loud I can’t decide if it’s my blood pulsing in my head or the bellowing males around me, with only the clang of steel breaking the sound. I wish to scream myself, for agony floods my senses from the slash on my right cheek and the deep cut now around my neck. My heart races in my chest, how many are left?

Cries clang through me as shadows charge out of the dark. Steel smiles at me through the dirt as a longsword swings towards my chest. I block just as another slashes across my back through my leather. White pain screams through my body when a fist meets my face and a knife is plunged into my left hip. I cry out as I turn and stab my sword into the heart of the warrior but his knife remains in my flesh. As my world starts to tilt a hellish figure comes for a try but I somehow manage to swing at the right time and take a chunk out of his head. He falls with a blood curdling scream that goes through to my bones. I collapse to my knees darkness entering my vision. Gut-wrenching wails litter the air as I slowly slip into oblivion.

I gasp in air. Burning as it rushes through my lungs. I must have been out for a while with fire now lighting the night. The stench of death is all I know. Crying. So many cries. Some for hope, some for mercy. Others for a death they so desperately need but fate cruelly failed to finish them off. I push myself up among bodies of the dead. My skin is slashed and torn and blood pools around me with darkness waving at the corners of my vision. The roaring of war clouds my mind, I cannot focus I cannot see. So loud. The clang of swords and thumbing of wood. Blood rain still sprinkles down upon us all. I look around me to see no enemy near by. I push onto my feet and cry out in pain at the knife still lodged in my hip. I slowly pull it out, whimpering at my weeping life’s blood. I put pressure on the wound by tightening my leathers at my waist, a grunt leaving my lips at the shot of self torture. A few metres away I can see the main centre of the battle. Blurry bodies twist and turn like demons dancing with the devil. A dark shape falls to the ground and a final stab down ends the quarrel. I look behind me as a cry pierces the night. A woman falls. Her blonde hair caked with red hits the earth and her face falls to me. From the fires burning near by I can see her face, her black tears all but disappeared. We are losing many. So many dead.

From where I’m standing I can feel him. I feel his pain and his hate radiating against my back. His defeat. I turn to him now standing amidst the fallen. A warrior so strong and fierce, but now broken. Broken by me. Broken by that child now running for his future. His eyes scream an apology as he studies my body as blood seeps through my leathers. I stumble towards him fisting my hand to my side as it burns with each step. I stab my sword into the earth, and place both hands on his crimson skin. He burns as tears glisten in his eyes. Those liquid honey eyes pleading for forgiveness. That he couldn’t get to me, save me from the child warrior. From the enemy that stabbed and slashed me. I say to him, amidst the savagery, that I love him. That war is a horror that we will endure. And when we survive, when the sun breaks through the darkness and we can once again... His body jolts as blood spurts from his mouth. Eyes widen as tears fall down his blackened cheeks. I look down to see the silver clean right through his chest. An inch further in and it would've entered me too. Cold. My body runs cold. Shock takes my breath away as I gasp for air. Gasp for any understanding of what has happened. His eyes drop to his chest as his body gives out and collapses to my chest. His eyes find my own, find my very soul, the soul of his warrior love. Blood pools in my palm as I hold my hand to his pulsing wound. His breathing turns slow and shallow, each exhale is the life seeping out of him. Each exhale my heart breaks. I reach for him, for every inch of him. Holding him to me, giving him the life he needs. Tears flow from me like the blood empties from him. Take mine take mine. I don't want it I can't do this I can't.. A hand grabs at my hair and yanks me back letting his body fall to mud. I claw at the earth at the bodies as I'm pulled away. My throat burns as I cry out for him, cry his name. I cry out still as the hand on my head releases and slams my skull down onto a rock.

I don't feel anything as the wind picks up. As the fires dance in the night. As shadow demons still lurk on the battlefield. As the cries echo through my skull. And as an image replays over and over. The jolt. The blood. His eyes. I loosen a cry as the thought consumes my soul. I feel my body breaking, the very centre of everything I am slowly beginning to shatter. So close. We had been so close.

Something warms my skin. A feather light touch of heat across my forehead. And birds. In my dark oblivion I can hear them singing. The screams that danced in my dreams have fallen to a dull hum. ‘Come back’ a voice like dripping water echoes through the dark. Every muscle very bone answering awake. I look back at the dark abyss and see the blood and the despair. The eyes of the fallen gleaming back at me. But the voice of water calls again. And I turn for it and race towards whatever is waiting there.

My eyelids split apart as I reach the light. The dawn light. Soft bronze light that filters through the leaves. The green untouched leaves. The sky is crystal clear warmed by a faint red hue of fires still burning. The fire. The stench. The battle. The death. Is he...