Late Afternoon, IV.
Disaster, there was no other way to describe it. As if all heavens came crashing down right where they all stood. Thoughts that his head was busy with as he searched bodies on top of bodies were also grim, perhaps even more so than the scene around him. It was on the fence for him, the fence between what is real and surreal. Yet his thoughts were not his sole torment. The scorching sun was still raping his eyes, if not from above; from the bottom, reflecting from all the blood-soaked shields, maces, and helmets. This, and the excruciating pain that electrocuted the entire left side of his body was forcing him to close his eyes all too often as tides of sand were making everything worse. Closing his eyes then, ironically, was forcing him to look at the darkness from within. Darkness sui generis, for it resembled the shade of dried gore instead of the typical blackness someone might expect. Sticking with it, the gore was taking numerous shapes, each of them more maddening than the rest… All the more reason to try and keep his eyes open despite the burn.
But he knew he had to continue his search. Search for an identifiable feature or a face. It was the first time that he appreciated blows to the back. He felt it a whole lot easier to walk by a comrade with his face down on the sand. Not to mention some of the distorted faces were familiar to him, half of the men he could call brothers, men he fought with shoulder to shoulder just some hours ago. Looking left and right as in a frenzy he walked on for a while. Then he caught sight of something unusual ahead, an unmoving body, neatly on his knees. A couple of steps more and he could see the reason why, a battle-worn banner with its pole nailing him to the ground. Having figured out where he was and what have happened, he now also knew where he must head towards. His sights dead focused on the impaled man, he could only wonder what might come to pass once he reaches there.
Morning, IV.
With nothing working out as it should, the situation was as good as it could get; they were still alive and that was pretty much it. They were barely able to inflict casualties on the waves of assaulting cataphracts, and too often were those barbed arrows piercing right through a shield with a clunk and taking a legionnaire down. Enemy horse archers were somehow still shooting at will, and wherever they were resupplying was way over their view range. Marcus still had hope, however, and expected good news from his cavalry decuriae he sent in pursuit of an exhausted unit of lancers. There was only one such opportunity when an enemy relief was relatively late, and he took it by giving the order to annihilate the retreating party. He believed that it was a weakness to be exploited, and no sooner was he to be disproven.
– “Sir! Enemy lancers are galloping forth, and they fly not their banners but something else!”
He did not need his observers to define what they were, not since he realized how bloodthirsty the enemy was charging toward them now. Marcus was zoning out at the sight in front of him, and pings and whizzes of arrows still raining down like rains upon them. His housecarl clearing his throat forcefully beside him brought him back to the present. His re-awakened senses awoke also a deep rage, ready to vaporize anything he stared at if he could. Seemingly ignorant to the flames he was burning within, his housecarl spoke:
– “Severed heads of our men on spikes. I have heard their kind launch them with mangonels into cities they lay siege to break morale. If our tired footmen were not ready to run they will n…”
– “Enough! ENOUGH!! ENOUGH!!! I will have the next man who talks flogged to death after having his teeth and tongue ripped out! There may be no victory for us here now, but we still have the numbers! We still have the blessing of all that is just within us! Have every able decanus appoint at least two men each to hold off pursuit from the enemy. We are to pull our bulk back to safety and come up with a new tactic to proceed again… Gods know how much I hate that man.”
Last part he did not spoke, but grunted while he ground his teeth. Nevertheless, everyone important understood what to do and who that was, even his housecarl. Little did they both know, though, that they were soon to meet the commander they hated. And that meeting was going to echo all around the known world…