Week 04: The battlefield

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They stood above the battlefield - a low land between gently rolling hills. Fragments of corpses were scattered about - a hand here, a head there, a set of horse legs next to each other. The weapons and armor strewn about attested to the numbers slaughtered here, even if there were not enough bits of torso present to recreate a single soldier or mount. Perhaps more terrifying than the cacophony of blood, internal organs, and limbs scattered about was the shattered earth. Small craters and plow lines of varying depths covered the area, appearing and disappearing with ease. A set of intestines, stretched from end to end, vanished into the blood soaked ground, a leg jutted up from between furrows just below the knee, and all around there were spears spiked into the dirt as if the men had fought the earth itself.
The two riders gingerly nudged their horses to a walk and proceeded down the hill in silence. One of the riders, a tall, lanky, young man with light, patchy facial hair and chain mail armor complimenting his spear and sword, covered his nose with a handkerchief drawn from his belt. His companion was shorter, well muscled, with a long drooping mustache which he stroked with great intent as he rode. Dangling from the saddle of the shorter man was a large oaken crossbow that, from time to time, swayed with the walk of the horse into the claymore hanging from the man's armor. A grim expression was carved into his face.
Once the horses reached the ground, the men dismounted and started walking amongst the dead, lifting up body parts to inspect them. The sun baked limbs were covered maggots and buzzing flies. Wherever a body part ended, it ended somewhat cleanly in rent flesh and shattered bone. Only the buzzing of flies broke the silence of the land until the taller of the two picked up a rotting hand. He turned it over, inspecting a ring on the fourth finger. Pulling off the ring and dropping the hand, get gave a quick sharp whistle which drew the attention of his companion. Dropping the scrap of fabric in his hands, he ran to the tall man with the ring in hand.
The duo stood for a moment, inspecting the ring. After a time, they looked at each other. Fear emanated from the tall man's eyes. His companion gave a grunt, grabbed the ring, and marched back to his horse, mounted, and sat staring expectantly at the other man. Quietly, slowly, the remaining soldier followed.
Hours after the two men left, the battlefield lay in silence. Only the sound of the wind blowing in the grass and the mob of flies gave a sound. Grasses bent over in the breeze, and hills extended for as far as the eye could see. The carnage of the scene tempered by the peace and quiet of the field.
A low rumbling emanated from the ground. The earth buckled and bulged for a moment, and the half leg that stuck out of the ground sank - a few inches at a time. Soon it was gone, swallowed by the gentle waves of upturned earth.
Peace settled on the battlefield once again.
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