Solace, solitude, then suddenly tremors, with each step the heathen took the world seem to shake until, unable to hold himself on his feet Joseph fell to the ground. He signaled of the inevitable battle, he knew they were likely too weak to run.
From his knees, he prayed. "Father forgive me for I am a false shepherd, I have brought Ill to my flock. I beg you that upon the gates of heaven you allow me to tread a path, not of my people, to see myself judged for my sins. Amen"
Joseph could not help but remain there on his knees his hands together before his breast, from his left he felt the sun piercing through the clouds for the first time since he started his journey. He admired the view of God's natural Chapple, the overstretching valley, he bathed in the sun's greatness it's the whole being except its warmth, which even with the will of God could not reach here.
Joseph again felt tremors. One after another shaking him to his core. It felt like thunder striking. Until it suddenly didn't, returned to solitude the man rested on a blanket of wool. Though desecrated his grave may be all but his hands would find peace.
His head had been struck off with all the strength of a warrior's power. He was not alone in his fate, as the godless men continued their charge they swallowed up every man, woman, and child. After they captured their goods: food, and firewood they followed footprints. Until they were sure that they were alone on the mountain. Men herded the priests and threw them before the gathering pagans.
The same man who led the parlay spoke, "Is your god not merciless." Laughing now he continued, " I have never before seen such a travesty. So many men killed without voice or reason." His voice now dropped slowing in tempo "I would have saved them. But unfortunately these men are so hard to control. You know they'd have me cut your hands off," he exclaimed sounding surprised at his own truth. While his men just laughed.
One of the priests spoke up "Surely you don't mean to cripple us, we'd never make it down the mountain."
To this, the pagans again laughed. A bellow coming with what appeared to be not the smallest amount of sympathy.
Not one of the warriors had been defeated there had been no battle, no divine interruption save the sun shining through a rein of clouds. The pagans continued on their quest matching through the king's land pillaging and raping. While the falling snow covered the red ground bodies were berried never see the sun again. In the spring the empty village would be discovered and marked a mystery, the people there forgotten.
When the soldiers left a new silence was introduced to the valley. Though short it was for a wail from the summit carried down to every crevice.