The broadswords rose and fell with a savagery unknown to any but the ancient Turk, Mongol, Spartan. They glinted strangely in a daylight where there was no sun, and the piked maces swung in circles of red horror as they tore, smashed, at young, half-naked bodies....
They swarmed across the wide, flat expanses of bush, blue grass, and the cries that issued from their throats as they charged like hunger-crazed beasts into the sword-points of their opponents were mercifully deleted; the maddened distortion of the features on their white, young faces was enough.
The voice explained, pointed out, reconciled pre-calculated plans with facts as they transpired.
The masses of mangled young flesh surged now forward now back, to either side; swelled, bunched, drove, fell writhing....
He saw a head fall, a running body split in two down the back.
"That's all, that's all!"
There was bitter stuff in his throat and he fought to keep the violent sickness bottled inside him.
"Yes, yes sir."
No no no no no!