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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2087489-The-forrrest
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #2087489
A short story of a unknown battle, from the account of an unknown soldier
The night was silent, the sky was clear. The glorious moon was the only source of light in the forest. The trees stretched toward the heavens, providing cover to the many animals that called the Kings Wood home.

A lone deer stopped in the middle of the battered road, it's ears perked up as he looked to the west. the icy wind blew, carrying the sent. The deer ran to the tree line and watched the road, waiting to cross once more.

An elderly knight and his squire came thundering down the road, pushing their mounts as hard as possible. The woods came alive with the sounds of birds flying into the air, trying to get somewhere safe, trying to get clear from the commotion ofthe road.

"My lord!" called the squire "we cannot keep this speed! they will be on us sooner or latter and we wont be able to fight!"

"Then what will you have me do?!" replied the knight, despite his old body, he was, at least to himself, still young. "Will you have me surrender to the imposter? or fight another day?"

The younger of the two men replied, with a tone of confidence "I know these woods my lord, we can attempt to hide until they ride past -"

The kight cut his sentence off "Or we fight, make them pay in blood for the sins they have commited" He pulled his mount to a sudden stop and dismounted. "Dismount, draw your sword, and show mw why I took you under my wing!". The squire did as he was told. they stood, two dead men walking knowing, that this would be the last stand for them. they knew, at this moment in time, no one would hear the noble deads, Sir John of Southhampton carried out on the first crusade. And no one would remember the name of his Squire, Alfie, the lonely bastard son of a butcher. Alfie was kind harted and loving, John was cold and stern but they both had the same goal. The same drive. The same God.

John was the first to hear the hoofs of the pursuers horses in chase. He unsheafed his sword, praying to god that he still had some fight in him. Alfie followed suit, his blade cutting through the air. a war horn was sounded, then silence. The two Christians stood, waiting for the unknown amount of Turks that would soon come down from the hills and the old mud road. "Alfie, if we make it though this, I will have to call you sir". Both men laughed, a joke no one but them understood, a relic from the past, from a different time.

At first it was one ridder, coming down the hill. His spear found it's percase in john, "you'll ... you'll have to do better than that" The oold man shouted. He pulled the rider down, and his blade found it's home in the ridders neck. Alfie ran to John, But he was pushed aside. "A lion is most ferce when he knows his time as come, Alfie, know this. I knew your mother." And with that John ran toward the hill, an ungodly war cry from the old lion, then silence.

Alfie was still in shock from the rider, but snapped out of it in time for another rider to come down, this one was coverd in blood and laughing. Alfie knew, at that moment, Sir John of Southhampton fell in combat. The rider came at Alfie, at full speed. Alfie stood, waiting for the ridder to be closer. Once this happned Alfie ran at the rider, using his sword to push the spear back then finding purchase on the rains of the ridder's horse. Alfie pulled himself up, knocking the riider down to the ground. He turned the horse round, and went toward the same area John did, riding hard and fast upp the hill, his sword arm ready. He struck down the first, then the second, then the third. and so on until he found himself surrounded.

The moon shone bright, illuminating the crimson blood on his blade, and the look in his eyes of a man with nothing to lose, but everything at risk. The look of a crazed man he charged, crashing into the first rider. His horse fell to the floor, but he still fought, until a blade from behind relived his from the burden of carrying his head.

Once more the sound of birds in the tress filled the forest.

A lone deer came to the body of Alfie, and looked down at him.

That day, the sun rose blood red, and the world woke to the news of a far off war in the east.
© Copyright 2016 Stephen.J.H. (stephen.h at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2087489-The-forrrest