From a distance, they might have been mistaken for an army or a unit of them. But as you get closer, it is more a mob of rioting peasants. Their armour is improvised, their weapons poorly maintained; mining iron is easy, at least compared to forging it into something. They seemed to content themselves with throwing insults at you and your army. Only you and a select few could understand them; these threats fell on deaf ears.
You would end this quickly and decisively; a good cavalry manoeuvre will bring them to their knees. You rode over to one of the squadrons with your own bodyguards to inform them of what you wanted to do.
The cavalry on both sides formed themselves up and began to pick up speed. Slowly, at first, but fast enough as you came closer and closer to the enemy.
They responded by throwing javelins and pelting you with rocks. As the pang of something that bounced off your helmet told you. You and the rest lowered your lances and chipped off some of their men. You rode past, slowed down outside their range, and regrouped for the next charge.
In the meantime, the footmen and archers would advance to truly envelop them. And as fate would have it, they were already wavering; this was doubly so when you came back to their rear. Unable to decide between fighting you and your advancing footmen. The brigands scattered, to be easily chased down by the light horse.
Casualties were light that day, fewer than a dozen actually dead; the rest had injuries that could be treated, mostly undeep wounds from the pebbles they had thrown. As for them, you had them hunted down and put down like the dogs they were, though they were without the nobler characteristics of that animal.
You had the field searched for Maurus, either for his body or to take him prisoner. And you did eventually find him. His lower legs were stuck under his horse, a cheap farm nag, riddled with four crossbow bolts. You had your men drag him from under his horse, then you had him tied up with his hand behind his back.
<span class="mu-i"> ''You little turdmongler, I had a good thing going, you filthy rat.'' </span> You hadn't seen him in person before, but you found him very ugly, with a voice that was guttural and low. You refrained from retorting, instead motioning to one of your men.
<span class="mu-i"> ''Still!'' </span> One of the common soldiers said as he deposited his armoured fist into Maurus' mouth. This made him cough up even more of his already missing teeth.
<span class="mu-i"> ''Right, make sure he's tied up properly; if he tries to run, you shoot. Now, what to do?'' </span> You said.
>Kill him on the spot
>Bring him to his home village to stand trail there
>Take him before the magistrate of the area, the Eparch that is.
