Hunted Queen

Chapter Forty One • Atrocities

**Warning**
 This chapter contains explicit content of gory nature. 

Please let me know if you find any errors and I will fix them! 

-Robert- 

William was still sitting in his saddle, fighting astride Dimma, when Robert caught sight of him from afar. In the midst of swords wielded fiercely among enemies. The one trying to outlive the other until they had to face their next adversary. Bludgeoned brothers in arms and enemies alike fought for every second they could stay alive. 

All fighting so desperately for their lives... just so they can postpone the time they meet their maker for another second... minute... day. If they are lucky. 

A cacophony of howling men fighting, howling in agonizing pain came from each and every direction. Ceaseless cries came from those crawling in their own innards and disgusted shouts of panic from soldiers, not on horses, who were slipping in this very gruesome and repulsive terrain. And the smell... Robert had seen battle many times before, so nothing of this was new to him, but he never got used to the smell... Blood, piss and other odors that were not supposed to be on the outside aggressively seeped into his nostrils with every breath he drew. There was no escaping it. 

All of this filled his senses completely, yet his eyes remained fixed on his king, only slipping for flashes so brief they could not even count as moments. Mayhem was the only word that rightly described the atrocities of sights before him. Of what was happening around him. 

He studied the ground separating him and William. He is too far away. He grunted while pushing two soldiers engaged in a duel out of his way. His ally falling on top of their enemy's man. Robert only gave the pair a second of his time, making sure that his meddling had worked in his brother's favor. Seeing a dagger being drawn and buried in the enemy's throat he sighed and pushed on. 

Fear tugged at his heart when he suddenly noticed more of Rowan's men pouring out from the woods behind enemy lines. Their numbers seemed endless and was constantly feeding their opponents odds of winning. Those entering the battlefield now were full of energy and roared for blood and death. Blood lust glowing in their eyes. A prickly sensation merged with a chill running from the back of his neck down his spine. 

He is too close to that stream of new blood. We cannot fight them out here, so openly. We need to draw back where their numbers will not do them any good. Cannot give them any advantages over us. Or less at least... 

A young soldier came screaming at him, two short swords in his hands. Helmet somewhat askew, probably from having fallen and being too enraged and panicked to adjust it after getting on his feet again. His armor and boots so bloody he appeared to have been bathing in it. Robert quickly observed that his his opponent was young. Very young. 

Realizing that Robert had not staggered, or reacted in fear, like the boy had anticipated, the frenzied eyes narrowed and betrayed him. Letting Robert see his confusion and insecurity. Indicating how inexperienced he was... which now worked in Robert's favor. 

Robert took his chance. Easily taking one long agile step forward. The young soldier not being able to parry due to his momentary moment of confusion. Robert punched the lad right between his eyes, still with his sword tightly in his grip. Letting whatever his knuckles missed, meet the grip and pommel of his sword. 

He watched as the young lad's body slumped together, instantly falling unconscious after the blow. 

"Fuuuck..." He breathed, ignoring the urge to shake his fist. Instead, he gripped his sword anew and set off towards his friend. "The bastard recruited goddamned children. No wonder they outnumber us."