The Scheme of All Things: Part I

9

     The field of battle encompassed the central village and extended out across the eastern plain where the enemy kept its camp. The longhouses, some of them over one hundred years old, burned with waning enthusiasm as the flames reached the stone foundations, blackened with soot. The enemy soldiers moved about the field without trepidation or fear, looting the homes not aflame and finishing the lives of any Igre men left slowly dieing.

A few Igre warriors continued to fight, hopelessly cleaving at the enemy as more of the crazed beasts joined the ranks eager to cut them down. Most of the desperate left were Berserkers or the remnants of the king's personal guard and it was obvious from the numbers that surrounded them, that their last stand would be short.

Hundreds lay dead and thousands of the enemy walked freely about the once sacrosanct village of the great Igre clan. The clan that had defeated the Notled, and the Jogen clans, two of the most powerful warrior tribes north of the Neas as well as the Fayerd Alliance and the blood cults of Nolen and Skied that represented the first real threats to the Igre. This was the Clan that had stabilized the region by securing peace and defending the people of the Northland from the savage tribes to the east and the unholy empire of the Seygraath to the south. For over one hundred years, the Igre had kept the peace and provided security for the many families and clans of the Northland and now they were gone in less than three hours, and with the last of the men falling to the horde, likely forgotten to time as well.

Goumundr sliced down one enemy after another as he stomped and stumbled through the smoke, dust and carnage of the battlefield, inching closer to the enemies' camp. His eyes smoldering behind the slants of his helm moving with determination and murderous intent only stopping long enough to parry a strike with his broad sword and gut the attacker; although many flung themselves at him in raging bloodlust few came close to even striking him. To Goumundr it was if the gods had anointed his forehead to deflect his enemies blows, but what he didn't notice was the crystal shard in his other hand glowing softly with a blue light and warming as he drew closer to the enemy.

That enemy, called general Dreghbatta by his men, Lord Dreghbatta by the politicians in Treehn's council, and much darker words by those who could see beyond the disguise, was off his infernal chariot while the commander apprised him of the situation.

The stout and regal commander Ethekel was nearest the general and was eager to inform the general of their near complete rout of the enemy.

"It appears, although most of the enemy has been vanquished, there are a few pockets of resisters. But by your glorious command, the village is destroyed and it's only a matter of time before all the warriors are dead." Commander Etheckel said matter-of-factly. He had an odd habit of shifting from one foot to the other as he spoke and it gave the appearance of nervousness to anyone talking with him.

"I see. What about the women and children? Have you taken them?" General Dreghbatta asked as he surveyed the surrounding field ignoring the implied flattery of his commander. "I want every item sacked from the village inspected first by the commanders. Anyone caught trying to smuggle women or children will be executed on the spot." His voice was gravely and seemed to rumble from his chest like a volcanic eruption.

Commander Etheckel raised an eyebrow and glanced across at the other commanders standing near the general each trying to avoid both Etheckel and the general's gaze.

"Of course my lord" and he motioned to former chief ten, now Second Brigade Commander, Arabah. Arabah nodded and moved off, bringing soldiers with him as he muscled his way towards the village.

Many of the soldiers, those not engaged in lingering combat or looting, were milling about the camp now, their commanders, who like Arabah were mostly former tribal leaders, did little to organize their charges. Enforcing the looting reviews was going to be extremely difficult given the free-willed nature of the soldiers, not to mention the chaos surrounding the conclusion of battle. But it was general Dreghbatta that assembled this mishmash of an army; compiled of sometimes rival tribes, from the southern Nations and even those from the Cambian Wastes east of Treehn, equipped and armed them, sorted them into units to fall like a black shadow over the Igre clan. It was an amazing feat and only someone as strong willed, determined and audacious as the general could have pulled this off. If anyone could enforce protocol among the rank and file, it would be him.