Ethan could barely hold it together while aiming there at the head of the circular war-room table where battle and war matters were discussed. His fists were clenched so tight his knuckles had turned white. He was breathing heavily as his eyes roved over his soldiers who were standing by the sides of the table, heads bent in penitence, smitten by fear. 

Their eyes were rooted to the ground because they knew what was coming. The room around them was almost dark, only lit by the rays that slipped through the closed window. The air was an entangled mix of blood and sweat, which belonged to the soldiers before him....