The horde

Part of Flash Fiction February 2023, prompt was “Steepled town seen from afar at sunset”.

The soldiers gathered on the hill and looked out across the horizon at the city they would conquer tomorrow. From this distance, they only saw the tallest buildings of the town in any detail. Churches, the town hall, the famous gargantuan statue of Faramos looming above smoking chimney stacks. The city stretched as far as they could see from this hill. It was a sight to behold and held untold riches and opportunity. A large stone wall encircled the city, guard posts dotted along it. No doubt they had already been spotted, and the alarm raised. No matter. They had their secrets. They had confidence.

The soldiers bristled with excitement, their weapons and armour clattering as they gathered to drink and talk in the dying sunlight. They shouted greetings and insults at each other, pulling out drinking vessels filled with foul-smelling liquids and throwing gambling implements to the ground. Frittering away their ill-gotten gains. The officers surveying the serene scene allowed the troops to disperse. A little entertainment and bawdiness would increase their morale for the task that awaited them in the morning’s hot sun.

They had swept across the land in the spring, causing bloodshed and chaos in their wake. They were well-trained, disciplined, and had nothing to lose. Their wrath knew no bounds. Their thirst for blood flowed unabated. Their reputation for cruelty preceded them, often leaving the road ahead free for the taking. Those who did stand in their way and dared showed resistance never lasted long. The people and settlements they met on their way were mere obstacles swept out of the way as they roared on.

They were hurt, injured, and tired, but nothing stopped the onslaught from continuing. Some were missing limbs, but they grimly continued anyway, limping across the battlefield or swinging wildly with one arm at enemies. Some had a distant memory of loved ones, something to tie them to somewhere. But they were all clouded and shrouded to obscurity. These people and places were just hazy shapes. They were driven by a force they didn’t fully understand themselves but welcomed and embraced with open arms.

They knew that this city would be a crossroads for them. It could mean their final end in the hands of violent defeat. It could mean a glorious culmination of victory. Would the city be a place they could pause and call home until the next victims were decided or fall into lethargic decadence, enjoying the spoils until they became lazy and fat.

The sun set behind the city, and the light too faded for further plans. The officers joined the soldiers in celebration. Fate would decide their outcome tomorrow, and there was precious little they could do before then.