Chapter Fifty • Kings of Death

                                    

                                          
-William- 
"What are your orders, your grace?" Christian asked, his voice heavy and dark. The usually careless and cheerful cadence in it demolished by what they were all in the midst of. A seemingly never-ending bloodshed. 
William watched the men in front of him; every soul looked just as weary and tired as he felt. Faces either speckled with mud or stained with dried blood. Some of them had very fresh wounds that had been bandaged, but angry red blood drenched the fabric and seeped all the way through. Still, they stood there. Awaiting his command and guidance on what to do next. Despite the visible weariness in their faces and innumerable amounts of cuts and wounds, there was still light and hope in their eyes. Those still able, stood straight and proud while they waited for him to speak. Expecting him to have all the answers of how to win this war and was putting their faith in him completely. 
His eyes wandered from the right to the left. Admiring the spirit his men held. 
"How many fell last night?" William asked Christian with his voice lowered. Endless days and nights of raids and battles had plagued his men, many had fallen and would never see their loved ones again. Loved ones William would have to face and offer his deepest condolences to, words holding meaning to him, but that gave nothing but empty comfort to those who had lost a husband, a brother or a son. And the night before had not been blessed with silence and rest. A group Rowan's men had stormed their camp in the middle of the night, creating havoc where ever they could. 
"Nine dead. A score wounded." Christian informed him gravely. "Two scores of tents were burnt down, so we have even more men sleeping under the night sky than last time they torched our tents." 
William held back the wave of curses his lips wanted to spill. "Have my uncle been seen?" He asked instead.
"No, your grace." 
Weeks of hell had past since that first day on the battlefield, and they had gotten nowhere. Each waken hour was spent trying to survive by every man in camp. News of death and bloodbaths stalked the hours he was awake and haunted him whenever he got a moment of peace to sleep. There was seldom a night where any of them got a full night's rest. If he was not being kept awake by the pending threat of another raid, it was the current men standing guard rushing into his tent to let him know that their enemy had been seen. 
The group William had gathered and gone ventured towards his uncle's camp, just like when he had been fighting the raiders about a year ago, accomplished nothing. All they had done was make it to the outskirts of Rowan's camp and seeing the vastness of his uncle's  numbers in men. Even though he already knew they were outnumbered, had known from the very beginning, he could not stop his heart when it had sunk and his stomach had dropped at the sight of them; endless bonfires with countless of men sitting around them. Feasting on mead and passing bread and meat among each other. Being rewarded for the retreat their enemy had called. There was no chance William and his men could accomplish what had been done with the raiders. His uncle's men were too many and they sat too close together for there to be even the slightest room or chance to kill even a single soldier without being noticed and having the alarm raised. 
So, the group had returned back to camp without having spilled a single drop of blood.  
Several other scouting parties had been sent out on William's orders after that. Trying to see where his cowardly uncle was hiding, assuming he was still in his camp, and if there was any point of entry into his camp that was not over flooding with men. None of the parties had returned with good news. One party had not returned at all and this tragic outcome gnawed at William. Guilt crushing him internally for sending those men to their deaths. No message had been sent from their enemy about a capture or threats to kill the men. Their had only been silence, so they all assumed that their men had passed.