The blood was splattered grotesquely against the white buildings, mixing with the mud to make a sodden, coppery mush. Families were wailing over the bodies of their loved ones waiting for their own imminent death, and the sky was filled with heavy sobs of grief, as if the Gods and Goddess were mourning the sight. Drawing breath was painful, as the bitter and thick smoke grazed his oesophagus, filling his mouth with the taste of charcoal. The village had been pulverised by the soldiers posing as wolves, their faces were smeared with soot, sweat, and for some of them, shame.
He had been Tarquin’s body slave since they were children, but he felt no loyalty towards him-only fear. The indiscriminate violence was an extension of how depraved his master’s mind had become. A soldier vomited at th
