A sound he didn't recognise made him turn around and look out from the tent. Before him stood the horrifying sight of a hundred British Troops in heavy battle armour. He was stunned into silence for a moment, it was like a nightmare. He walked out into the sunshine again and looked about him. There were still the sounds of battle, but it was far off in the distance, these monsters were right in front of him.
"Eviar Unaxx, I demand that you surrender your troops and stand down. I guarantee your safety if you offer your parole, what say you?" A voice demanded.
"Ah, you must be the infidel Pig King." He spat.
"I am Uther Pendragon, King of these lands, and Ruler of the British Empire. You cannot escape, your forces are defeated. There is nothing left for you but surrender." Uther informed Unaxx.
"I would not kneel before a low born dog such as the likes of you. I will fight to the death and I will be victorious." Unaxx yelled back.
"As you wish, prepare to defend yourself, Criminal." The King spat at him.
"I have no weapon, trust an infidel to demand a fight with an unarmed man." Unaxx taunted the King. For a moment he thought he saw the King lower his guard, and in that instant he threw a burst of power at the Armoured King. But to his horror, the bolt simply bounced off the polished armour and dissipated to nothing. At the same moment a sword came cart wheeling through the air and stuck point first it the ground, mere inches from Unaxx's feet. He leapt back at the shock, and stood there staring at the steel weapon.
"Your power is nothing here, Unaxx. Pick up the sword and face judgement."
Unaxx was thinking furiously, how would he defeat this man with nothing more than a sword? His powers were impotent and his guards were all dead. Slowly he lent forward and grasped the pommel of the sword and drew it from the ground. He would die a man, and he would ascend to the Promised Land and sit at the right hand of God. He was Eviar Unaxx, he was a member of the Royal Court of Persia, no one would belittle him in the eyes of God. With that he strode forward and raised the sword in preparedness.
Uther stepped forward also, but while Unaxx was distracted thinking of ways to escape, he had removed the battle armour and stood before Unaxx in his fatigues. The surprise of seeing the British King in a normal unarmoured uniform gave Unaxx hope that he would be victorious, He was no slouch with a blade and had dispatched his share of enemies by his own hand. But, as Uther stepped closer, Unaxx saw the man up close for the first time, he was a giant, over six and a half feet and wide across the shoulders. He would be a formidable opponent, he had also fought big men before, and they were slow and possessed no defence. He smiled and took his guard.
The men slowly circled, each looking for the first opening, a weakness that would allow a quick and easy victory. Unaxx feinted to his left and then swung hard for the Kings right, but the Brit was ready and easily parried the strike. The clash of swords caused Unaxx to pause, the power of the Uther's parry had caused a violent shudder up his arm. Again they circled and waited for the right moment, Uther calm and steely eyed, his concentration complete. Yet again Unaxx feinted to the left, but did not follow up, hoping this would unbalance Uther. But again the King read the move and stepped lightly to the right and struck out with his sword. The blade met Unaxx's with a mighty clang of metal and the Persian was shoved off his feet by the impact.
Uther did not follow up, he simply stepped back and waited for Unaxx to regain his feet. Once he did, the men circled, the tips of the swords inches apart. Unaxx feinted again but this time to the right, but again Uther was not falling for the simple tactic. Only this time Uther spun to his left and swung hard at Unaxx. Unfortunately for Unaxx he was committed to his failed feint and the Kings sword swung true. Unaxx stumbled but caught his footing, his sword down with the point in the dirt. He looked at Uther, his eyes wide, his arms limp.
"You infidel..." The last of the sentence was too much for the dead man to complete. Uther stood back and watched as Unaxx's head lent to the right and then fell from his shoulders. It made a strange whomping sound as it hit the ground and a shock wave shot out from the still standing body. Finally gravity took its toll and the headless body fell to the ground. Blood seeped from the open neck and soaked into the dry earth. It was over.
All across the battlefield, Bysithian soldiers stopped fighting and looked around in shock, they were free of the enchantments that had imprisoned their minds. Most dropped to the ground and began to sob uncontrollably, the memories of the atrocities they had committed were still there, but now the farmers and bakers and tailors were once again free of mind and body. The memories were proving to be too much for some to bear, so they turned their weapons on themselves and freed themselves from the horrors they had committed. Other fell to their knees and begged forgiveness from their God and the British forces they had faced as enemies only moments ago.
"They remember it all, My Liege." Uther turned to see Merlin standing behind him. "The thrall has been lifted, they are what they once were, again. They are farmers and tinkers and traders, not the killers that Unaxx had made them into. Show them mercy." He said softly in Uther's ear.
Uther nodded as he weighed up the Mage's words, it would be the ultimate show of power by the King to pardon the Horde. But, there was the chance that the people would see it as a betrayal for all the lives lost in the war to date. His decision was fast and firm, he was not a man of vengeance, he was a man of peace and forgiveness. So it would be that the former members of the Horde would be allowed to live without punishment, for how could one punish a man for actions so far beyond his control as to be irresistible? He quickly ordered the cease fire and the order to repatriate those that wished to return home, and an offer of work and a peaceful life to those that could not, or would not return.
It soon became apparent that that there was nowhere for them to return as the Khalif had stripped their lands to mine out any minerals and precious stones. Some of the men here had seen their own lands reduced to barren waste land in the pursuit of those commodities. Farmers once green fields were poisoned desert once the process had been completed. For some of the British soldiers, it was nothing more than a ruse to trick the soldiers into lowering their guard. There were a great many deaths at the hands of disbelieving British soldiers before the orders got through to them that the Bysithian's had been under a thrall and were no longer a threat to the Army. Several hundred men were slaughtered as they begged for their lives, and Uther was sicked by the petty revenge of those in his Armed Forces.
But one could hardly punish them, a lot of them had lost family and friends in Hereford, that atrocity had affected the entire nation, not just his soldiers. In the end those responsible were punished in ways that would allow them to see the men they were trying to kill and realise that they were no more than simple folk that had their will stolen and then forced to act as Unaxx saw fit to bring his horrifying dreams to reality. To see these formerly implacable enemy, cowed and frightened, was enough to make the hardest soldier sick to his stomach. It could have been any of them, every man and woman fighting in the name of the King, Uther Pendragon, could see that by the grace of God, they too could have been born into a family that suffered at the hands of Unaxx's sick and twisted desires. So it was that the war against the Bysithian Hordes was won and the British Empire was safe for another day.
For some, the outcome was not what they had been hoping for, particularly the Duke of Gloucester. His Highness Duke Harold Pendragon watched the goings on through the enchantments he had learned as a young man. None knew of his secret skills and he would keep it that way, it was far safer and allowed him to eavesdrop on any conversation in the country, as long as he knew when and where it was to take place. He was angrier than he thought possible at the defeat of Unaxx, especially given the secret assistance he had been supplying the Horde as it rampaged across the low lands. He had a deal with Unaxx that he would control what was left of Britain in the post war period. Now he was yet again cast aside by the sickening bravery and tactical brilliance of his brother.