Prologue
“The lesson of history is that no one learns.”
~ Steven Erikson ~
He stopped for a moment and looked around, his sword still in his hand, blood dripping from its blade. The city was covered in smoke, and some houses were still on fire. The streets were covered in blood and the body of dead men. The air was filled with the smell of blood, and smoke.
“Good.” he thought.
He started walking again towards the city centre where his soldiers were stocking the booties.
“Emperor Merikh.” came one of his pathetic servant. He bowed quickly “All survivors were gathered on the main square. We searched every house and gathered everything we could.” he stood next to him, waiting for orders.
“Good.” he started his way towards the mentioned place “Bring my horse.”
As he reached the square everyone fell silent. He could sense their fear. Children were crying which made him angry. He stood in front of them.
“From now on, this village is part of the Empire of Nendawin. You pay gelde to me. You obey to me. And most important you join my army if necessary.” he sheathed his sword and mounted his horse “You may start now.” he turned to Phobos “Take every child who can lift a sword to Bakkhos. Tell him to take them back to Nendawin and train them. They can be shaped easily and therefore will make perfect soldiers.” Phobos nodded “I’ll join the army under the capital. Join me after you’ve taken care of these children.” Phobos bowed and the emperor spurred his horse.
As he got further from the town, he could still hear the screams of the women, the yell of the men and the crying children.
