Talkhand Dies on His Elephant

From E2.3, Gav, Talkhand, and Chess. It illustrates E2.3.411–422 (to E2.3.424):

E2.3.411
The earth grew black beneath the darkened sky,With spears and silken banners lifted high.
E2.3.412
Dust darkened; tabiras, karnays all cried,While gorz and ax struck hard on every side.
E2.3.413
The sea itself appeared to boil and roll,While the nahangs cried blood from bank to shoal.
E2.3.414
At battle-ax and gorz and sword’s hard blow,A red mist from the deep began to flow.
E2.3.415
As that dark veil was drawn across the sun,The world’s face vanished where the war had run.
E2.3.416
The air seemed filled with swords that fell like rain,And planted crimson tulips on the plain.
E2.3.417
The fallen lay so thick across the ground,No vulture dared to wheel above the mound.
E2.3.418
Some lay within the trench where bloodstreams ran;Some headless on the field in death’s dark span.
E2.3.419
The sea rose with the wind; the armies pressed,Troop after troop, with fury in each breast.
E2.3.420
The plain was filled with livers, hearts, and brains;The horses’ hoofs were clogged with crimson stains.
E2.3.421
Talkhand looked from his elephant; blood spreadLike flooding Nile, and turned the whole earth red.
E2.3.422
The wind blew hard; he hungered, parched and worn,Yet found no rest beneath the battle horn.