By Michael Erasmus
Drums. Their song echoes through the valley. The ground beneath my feet quivers with each beat, and my heart pounds in rhythm with the melody of war, pumping adrenaline through my twitching muscles.
Fear. Its claws dig into my chest, scratching my lungs with every breath I take and squeezes my heart with an iron grip. We see our foes flood through the opposite end of the valley. Their silver banners are aflame in the light of the setting sun. They outnumber us ten-to-one, at least. My hand gripping the long spear quivers as I watch.
War. It has come at last, as we knew it would. We knew the empire would turn its greedy eyes to our lands of fruitful valleys and green hills. Now the hour is here; we face an impossible enemy.
Our general sits atop a brown steed, facing us with his sword drawn. His golden armor is a beacon of strength and defiance. The crimson of his cape and his helmet’s plume are a striking harbinger of what is coming.
“Brothers,” he cries, “this is not a battle we win!”
He is right. Their legions came sooner than expected. Our kingdom’s armies are still preparing for war. We, a small, unfortunate group, are the kingdom’s first line of defense.
“King Thaddeus musters our armies to the south,” he continues, “but aid will not arrive in time.” He points at the legions marching toward us. “If you fight by my side, you will die this day. But I will fight. If my death delays them for but a moment—a moment longer for the kingdom to prepare—it will be worth it.”
He lowers his arm and paces the horse before our lines. Our gazes follow him as he says, “I do not ask you to stand with me. If you wish to flee, go now, take your families as far south as you can. Live to fight another day.” He raises his sword, catching a dying ray of the sun slipping behind the mountains. “I’ll stand alone if I must. I shall die for Praesinith, for freedom, for every child playing in our flowing fields, for every woman as she delights in the beauty of holly-covered hills and snow-capped mountains, for every man not here as he sharpens his sword and polishes his armor. I. Will. Fight!”
His roar echoes in our silence as he turns his steed to face the coming army. He sits straight in his saddle, the strength of his words vibrates in our hearts, and we stand rigid while we wait.
But as they draw nearer, now halfway across the valley, uncertainty creeps into our lines.
The warrior to my right shifts. I glance at him. He lowers his shield and drums his fingers on the pole of his spear. Shaking his head, he takes a deep breath and turns away, leaving our lines. Men mumble, but none stop him.
The legions’ reverberant marching and clanging armor grows louder. Their tight ranks and timed strides boast of confidence and discipline. How can we match such a force?
Someone curses behind me. A shield and spear fall to the ground, and another warrior leaves us.
Go with him, a voice whispers in my mind.
“I…” The man to my left swallows. “I can’t stay here. I have a wife. Children. I can’t.”
He, too, leaves.
Go while you can! hisses the voice of doubt.
Around me, at least a dozen more men surrender to fear. As they depart, my legs tremble. I lick my dry lips, fighting the urge to flee with them. I may have neither wife nor child yet, but what of Mother? If she is to lose me as she lost Father, how will she survive? She can’t work the fields alone. She can’t—
“No,” I whisper. “I will not save myself so that others may die.”
I look to our general. He does not slouch or tremble. He watches as a mighty lion awaiting his prey.
But you will die, says the voice.
“If I die, I die,” I reply. “Not for glory, but for my people.”
Resolution sets in. Fire warms my heart and crackles through my veins.
Their ranks halt, now near to us I watch as lines of archers nock their arrows, ready to darken the sky. Their commanders’ shouts reach my ears, screams in a foreign tongue. Shields are lifted; swords are drawn.
Our general looks back at us. “My friend, the moment is upon us.” His eyes meet mine. “Flee if you must; I shall not judge. But I’ll stay and fight, with or without you, for the love and defiance swimming in my blood is fiercer than the terror staring down on us.
“But I promise you this: if you stay and raise your shield beside mine to strike back at the armies of greed and corruption, it will not be in vain. No, it will be for goodness, and freedom, and honor. We may never make it into campfire tales or tavern songs, but we shall make darkness rue this day. We shall show that bold virtue is stronger than the avarice of man.
“So, will you flee, or will you fight?”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
The honor and sacrifice demonstrated in this story is awesome!
Chills. I love it.
This is really good! I felt that warm fire of resolution at the same time as he did!
“…we shall make darkness rue this day.”
LOVE IT!
Great picture of counting the cost and weighing the choice.
Thanks for the kind words!
Also, @FloridSword, is that a Wingfeather Saga reference I see? (I can’t seem to reply directly to comments)
Love this, Michael! So powerful and inspiring.
“No,” I whisper. “I will not save myself so that others may die.”
I love the MC’s determination and willingness to sacrifice himself for others!