The Saxon bodies near the fort are stripped naked and piled in a great heap.

Two of the dead are discovered to be women.

I thought we would have a mutiny on my hands when I told the men they couldn't keep the corpses.

At least the death moans and sobs have stopped.

A field full of dead men is one thing.

A field full of dying men is another ball of wax entirely.

The cries, the gurgles, the unintelligible muttering.

Flashes of the German-Russian front scroll through my mind.

Crows raid the corpses of their eyeballs and flies lay their eggs in the open wounds.

No doubt the heap of bodies will soon become a writhing mound of maggots.

For that reason, I have the men begin casting the bodies into the river, letting the current and the tide carry them away.

The incessant, caw, caw, the carrion birds smothers all other sounds and a blanket of background

noise.

By nightfall, most of the Saxon bodies are disposed of.

The dead Romans and Britons, we bury behind the hillock on which the fort sits most of the

army is asleep now i however continue walking the walls checking with the guards as i pass

by them even praos is asleep.

After hearing him tell and retell the story of how he slew 30 men outside the fortress walls a dozen times or so,

I had to find something else to do.

Torches emit a warm orange glow all around the room of the fort. They flicker and spit as I pass by them.

Down in the center a smattering of cooking fires burn.

At length I find a patch of grass cover ground, curl up, and drift into a restless sleep.

...