The smoking ruin of the old Borie Rus capital was truly a sight to behold. Where homes had once stood, there now stood only smoldering embers and shattered belongings. The walls and fences of the once-proud city were painted red with the splattered blood of the vanquished. From every tree hung men who had refused to bow to their new King; on spikes around the perimeter of the village were posted the heads, livers, hearts, and hands of those who had resisted their new Sarmatian lords by arms. The city, once loud and vibrant, bustling with life, was mostly silent now; the dead speak little. The Sarmatian victory celebrations had died down, and the Horsemen were largely quiet. Only the crackling of burning wood and smoldering embers provided continuous noise in the dead city; though occasionally, the silence would be pierced by the laughing of Sarmatian warriors and the screaming and crying of Rus women.
The battle had been well-fought. The King was proud of his men, and his men were more confident than ever of their leader. The deception had worked perfectly; the Borie Rus had been fooled into believing the small groups of warriors who were repeatedly sent against them were the greatest force the Sarmatian King could muster. They had arrogantly and foolishly pursued one of these groups out into the open, leaving the shelter of their city to hunt down a seemingly insignificant Sarmatian army.
The trap had then be sprung with more ferocity than any ever seen on the Eurasian plains. The two great Sarmatian cavalry forces had attacked the pursuing Borie Rus on both flanks, catching the enemy unprepared and in poor order. The deadly-accurate missiles launched from Sarmatian bows wrought havoc on the surprised Borie Rus from a distance, before the Sarmatians leveled their lances for the charge.
The thunderous impact of the initial charge was deafening. The Sarmatian lancers crashed through the Rus "lines" -- which were not yet fully formed -- and drove clear out the other side. Some horsemen doubled back to exploit disorder in the Rus lines, running men through with their long spears. Others continued forward, away from the Rus, firing behind them as they went. Those Rus units who kept their heads tried to regroup and reform their ranks. Spearmen consolidated into lines, all the time absorbing arrow fire from the horse archers swarming around them. The Rus archers tried to return fire, but the tactics of the foot archers proved ineffective against their mounted enemies. The Sarmatians fought individually or in small groups, and moved quickly and erraticly, making volley fire nearly useless. When the Rus realized this, they tried to split up and take down the horsemen with individual aimed fire; but the King's men were too nimble and too fast, galloping faster than any Rus archer could aim, and running the unprotected archers down with their lances.
The spearmen, now reformed, attempted to rejoin the fight; but every time they made a move against the Sarmatians, the mounted warriors simply galloped away to safety, loosing arrows at the frustrated Rus. Each stroke the Borie spear formation made was countered by a retreat by the Sarmatian target and a counterstroke by another group of Sarmatian warriors, striking at the rear or flank of the spear line.
The decivise blow came, however, when the commanding Borie Rus officer -- a mere captain, who had taken command after his superiors had been slain on the field -- saw an opportunity to capture King Beukhan himself. The King had been left exposed by the pursuit of fleeing archers by his personal bodyguards, and the Rus captain ordered his spear line to charge the King's position and overrun him. This, despite the pleas of his comrades to press the attack against an exposed Sarmatian flank to open an escape route back to the capital. The spearmen did as they were ordered, breaking formation to charge, disorganized and exhausted, towards the King.
Who galloped away, taking a position behind a number of other Sarmatian warriors.
The spearmen continued running, becoming increasingly exhausted and breathless, without even a clear target any longer. The organization which had kept these soldiers alive in the face of Sarmatian marshall superiority was now gone, and spearmen were left vulnerable.
Taking the initiative, the Sarmatian cavalry maneuvered in, completing an encirclement of the remaining Rus. Frightened and despairing, the Rus desperately tried to reform their lines and protect themselves; but it was too late. The Sarmatians opened fire, pouring hundreds of arrows into the mass of shocked, scared, exhausted, and utterly defeated Rus infantry.
Those who survived were taken captive or impaled on the warriors' lances.
Shortly thereafter, the Sarmatians had advanced and taken the Rus capital which, despite being undefended, refused to submit... hoping, perhaps, such "bravery" would impress Beukhan enough that he would grant them amnesty.
Instead, he followed the tradition of his ancestors and had the city torched and the populace put to the sword.