Kneeling, the water had gone up to his waist. A part of his blonde hair had been painted dark red, as blood profusely poured out from the wound above his forehead. The flow almost covered his entire face, which made his blue eyes stand out. He had kept a defiant look even when he was decisively beaten, though his injuries had made him incapable of raising his head.
Meldor stepped into the bloody waters, nearer to the last man to remain conscious. The captain can only hear the burbling sound as he waded, until he saw his boots. Just right before him, the elven prince stopped and with a smirk looked down on the warrior.
"From which hole did you rats came from?" the prince propped up his chin with his cold blade.
"Why do you wish to know, elf." the captain replied weakly through his coarse voice.
"I just wanted to know who taught you the ways of war. This is incompetent, even goblins would have done it better." Meldor's remark earned some chuckles from the elves.
The prince's retainers watched the interrogation from ashore, most of which had been rudely roused from their sleep. But the fright had settled down, and they had awoken to the easiest slaughter they had ever made.
"Luck was simply not on our side. Should we have fought in the open plains, you would have been annihilated to the last man."
"To the last elf." Meldor swiftly rebutted.
"You must be the captain of these poor folks, seeing you wear such a funny helm." the prince said, glancing at the distorted plumed metal helmet that had fallen beside him. However, this was not the only markings, he wore a different colored shape, red while his retainer had blue.
"I am, but I am no mere captain. I am the son of King Erik, lord of the Hodites. And you shall earn yourself a good sum, should you return me to my father."
Meldor raised his brows at the information. "How could you so confidently say such cowardly words, before the men you have led into peril?"
"You will not want the Hodites to be your enemy. My father's army could easily crush your little band of deserters."
The elven prince grunted in disbelief at the accusation, but the desperate captain continued.
"On the other hand, should you befriend our kingdom, we can provide you shelter… or even employment." he smirked, confident that he had concocted a convincing argument.
"Verily, I say unto you, I will have your father's head for this impudence." Meldor's face darkened, much to the panic of the interrogatee.
"Elf lord, reconsid-" the blade entered into his mouth, and the tip emerged out of his nape. He was immediately silenced.
Blood sprung out when the prince pulled out his blade. Dead, the captain's head drooped down, hanging on his neck. The prince kicked his lifeless but still kneeling body into the water. He fell backwards, and like a massive stone, he dropped with a large splash.
"Drag the corpses out of the river, lest their filth corrupt more of Erlimbur." Meldor ordered as he made his way ashore.
The river had turned crimson, even the air had become pungent. Around forty bodies remained where they had fallen, as the current was not strong enough to push such heavy armory.
The elves obeyed the order without delay, and began retrieving their fallen enemies. Upon closer inspection of the well-equipped soldiers, it became more ridiculous to think that they have been decimated with just a bunch of stones. And not from slings, propelled only by the strength of their hands.
"This is one is still alive, my lord." Tholpiel hollered to Meldor, his hands on the shoulder plates of the grunting soldier. Just like the captain, his injuries were to his head but much worse, as he can no longer speak coherently.
"Kill him." was the nonchalant response.
Tholpiel's reaction was the same when the prince ordered him to kill the royals in Chaeld. The scenes, revisited his thoughts again.
Seeing Tholpiel's hesitation, Cirdan who was nearby stepped in, and plunged his sword on the wounded warrior's neck. As casually as he stabbed in, he retracted the weapon. The soldier convulsed, his mouth spewed out blood, and not long after ceased breathing.
"He wouldn't survive his wounds anyway." the elf tried to assure, but it did not save him from earning Tholpiel's bewildered gaze. After all, a few of them have the healing capabilities to deal with even such a dire injury.
The lieutenant shook his head, he was reminded that they had abandoned the codes. He expected his comrades to at least consider, but he was surprise to how they quickly grew indifferent against deeds that would be considered atrocious not a long time ago. Things have drastically changed, and he had been left behind.
He flinched when he saw another wounded soldier pleading, just to be quickly stricken down. This would happen many times more, some of those hit by the stones were only made unconscious, and there was no salvation awaiting them when they awoke.
"My lord, why did you let the other one go? He was on a horse, news shall quickly arrive to where it is headed." Orlem approached Meldor who had returned to his previous seat, back to poking the remains of their bonfire.
"Wouldn't it be great for the hunted to approach the hunter in his own accord?"
"But how do we know we are the hunters here, Meldor? If what he said was true, we could be against a king." Orlem walked closer.
Meldor stopped messing with the embers and the small ash mounds. He turned his eyes upward to Orlem, a worried expression greeted his gaze.
"There are no kings in the east, Orlem. Just shepherds who fancy themselves deserving a crown and a throne." he chuckled.
"And I shall conquer their dominions one by one. And out of the ashes of their vainglory, I will rebuild my kingdom."