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"Well, that was a spot of fun," Ligur said, satisfied.
Hastur had to agree. The smash of the cavalry into the too-thin infantry line, the slaughter of the demoralised troops, the despairing cries of the wounded and dying. It had, indeed, been fun.
"You want to go and incite some pride in the Macedonians' hearts?" he asked.
"Give us a minute," Ligur said, kicking over corpses. "I want ter look round for a while." He amused himself by desecrating bodies for a few minutes, then pointed at the corpses piled in one spot. "Them lads - 'oo are they?"
"Oh, them," Hastur said. "That's the lover-boy regiment. Death before seein' yer boyfriend dishonoured an' all that. Looks like they got what they wanted." He pointed down at one body. "Look at this one, looks like a bloody girl. I bet he was popular." He laughed at his own wit, hissing.
Ligur was quiet, looking at the bodies with an odd expression on his face.
"Faithful unto death, not wantin' to go on wivvout their friends," he muttered. "Not so bad, for 'umans."
"Quit yer moonin' over a pack of mortals," Hastur snapped, not liking the way Ligur was looking. "We've got work to do."
Ligur shook himself and nodded, eagerly. "Right," he said. "Let's get to work on Philip, then."
Hastur grinned and led the way. After a moment more of looking back, silently, at the remains of the Sacred Band, Ligur turned and followed him, faithful and dependable.