The commander surveys the edge of a corpse-strewn battlefield. More of a massacre. It will have been recent, no more than a day judging by the condition of the bodies. She looks back at her beleaguered column of soldiers.
Three weeks since that disaster in the valley and they have been trying to make their way home ever since. Less than a quarter of the men remain. Their food stocks ran dry two weeks ago. She’s caught some of the men chewing the leather of their boots. Last night someone was stabbed in a fight. The whole column is bulging at the seams, ready to explode.
We need food.
In the east, some bodies have been piled and burned by the enemy. She can smell the charred flesh on the wind. Her stomach is nauseated by the stench, but her mouth salivates.
To her captain she says, ‘Gather up some men you trust. I have something to ask of you, and I do not ask it lightly.’
Paddy Dobson
14th April 2022