Some time later.
Flies were buzzing actively among the bodies strewn across the former battlefield. The bodies had been stripped of any valuable items that they once possessed: weapons, coins, and ornaments were gone. With blank, clouded eyes, they neither saw nor felt the indignity their corpses endured.
The thirsty ground and the scorching sun had worked in harmony to drain the blood of the fallen. All that remained of their once precious vitality were dark-stained patches of soil, but even this was going to be covered up soon with dust or sand.
In the sky, vultures and other carrion birds were flying over to take part in this ghoulish feast. They didn't need an invitation or solicitation. This feast was going to keep them fed for days or weeks at the least.
On the horizon. The silhouettes of the Knight Templar convoy were disappearing as they pressed onward in their interrupted journey to Jaffa.
** *
