posted on Dec, 2 2004 @ 08:51 PM
The old man clutched the Axe in painfully swollen knobby hands, his fingers tracing the power runes carved in the haft. He shivered in the early
spring morning, staring out across the small valley at the massive army gathered to meet them. He looked around himself at the other old men that
stood with him. They had colored their gray hair to fool the enemy into thinking this was a real army not just a bunch of old and sick men with a
handful of young men scattered among them. He could hear the laughter form across the valley as they took stock of the couple hundred poorly armed
Clansmen that faced their massive army. They weren't even going to soften them up with with archers, why bother when you out numbered them ten to
one? He smiled to himself as he seen them line up their infantry, they would pay for their arrogance.
Someone started slapping their sword against their shield and chanting a clan war song. As the old man picked up the chant and slamming his Axe his
shield he felt his pulse start to race with that familiar rush and the world narrowed to just this valley and the enemy before him. Forgotten was his
pain from old wounds and the sorrow from the loss of his wife from the fever last winter. His blood was pounding in his veins and the years seemed to
melt away as he stood a little straighter and looked almost eager to greet the wave of men just starting to advance in front of him. He had not felt
this way in years, not since his retirement from the Clans Warriors, to train the young ones.
The chant grew from mummers to shouts as the enemy started charging across the space between them, as they got within a couple dozen yards he could
not stand it any more and with a howl of rage charged out to meet them, the others screaming curses and battle cries did the same. He slammed his
shield into the shield of a frightened looking young man, and swept his Axe under the rim to take off the boys leg. He whirled to the left deflected a
spear thrust and steeped inside to take half the mans head off. The falling man almost tore the Axe out of his hand, as he slipped in the frosty
grass he jerked it out just in time to bring it underhanded, spike first, into the next mans belly. The battle lines swirled and shifted as the old
Clansmen fought for their pride, fought for their honor and fought for the future of the Clans.
The old man fought till suddenly no one was in front of him except the Calvary and archers of the enemy. He had fought his way all the way through the
enemy line. The old men had fought harder than the enemy had ever expected. As their Calvary charged toward him to Finnish them off, he smiled. A
cloud of arrows flew from behind him as the Clans Archers hidden in a depression reveled them selves. Hundreds of Clansmen burst from the same place
hacking down the remaining enemy and forming a spear wall a few yards behind him. Looking out across the valley he saw the charge breaking and
running, further back he watched as the Clans Calvary charged the enemy archers from behind, hacking them down and cutting off the enemies Calvary's
The ruse had worked.
The old mans smiled as the heavy Axe slipped from his bloody hands and he sank to his knees. He noticed blood from a dozen wounds as he started
coughing up a bloody froth. He sat in the grass as the blood poured from a chest wound. He reached for his Axe and clutched it to him and thought to
himself what a beautiful morning, to win the freedom of the Clans. Over the cries and moans of the dying and wounded he heard a woman singing. It was
his wife singing a song she often sang while cooking. He saw her standing in the bright light and waving for him to come, suddenly he hurt no more and
the battlefield was gone replaced with his home and garden, and the sight of his beautiful cooking his favorite stew.
He was going home
This is kinda the ending to the other two I wrote
I hope yall like it
[edit on 2-12-2004 by Amuk]