A Wise Fool

My affects in times of blood and clashing swords are far from courageous. This is a basic truth. But, I have been a servant; a man tasked to wage his hand against another for the sake of duty.
I have seen men die. My eyes have witnessed the brutal practices of savage beasts when unleashed. My ears heard screams of worried cubs... not of age to halt my company's actions with their unaged tongue.

My younger self has seen shadows follow and escape beyond sight past the moon.

Many tales sung, and many stories told in the wake of boredom. So, as my old eyes and aged ears have been given the fortune to hear the conveyors yell, I now speak.

I am unsure the date, unsure the time. The moon had escaped our sights and sun rose, tho' its glow failed to transcend the clouds that walled before it.

I stood, one hand loosely grasping a rushly smithed piece of iron with a hilt. My fashion was a leather blend, gifting me the speed to evade... not much further in its utilities i can list. My wife, a sweet woman, too kind for this world, pleaded and bartered with the cities master of arms to gift me a shield. Reluctantly, they conceded. My daughter and her friend painted it.
'A roaring lion lurks in the dark when the shadows walk.'
They inscribed this. Wanting me to remember my words.

We stood. More than half of a city's might outside its boarded walls.

Some wore the colours given to them; self evident their riches were. Some, like I, knew not of stacked coins to conjure plates deemed impregnable. They, given the misfortune that befell them, matched scarcely to the local farmer... not a soldier.

Command was given notice of an emerging army, uncounted their vastity. Scouts took note of them 2 days before. Today we stood, our commanders stood, knowing their march would come to a halt before the day was at its end.

Breakfast had past. Noon shortly came and left. We sat and spoke, laughed and ate. Time drifted by, no banners pierd past the brown hills we saw.

We stood once more. Our break ended , food eaten, feet aching. The clouds loomed over us. The silence grew louder. A roar broke that noise of silence.

All heads turned to the sight. The brown, sloping hills that many a tree lay dead above, now called host to revenge personified. They were betrayers; thats what they told our inive ears. Betrayers to the truth. The truth lay at their feet and they choose to kick the boot. That's all most men that stood beside my shaking hands needed to hear for their sword to demand blood. I wasn't most men. I thought at that moment as a survivalist, a mortal man wanting more time in the witnessing of his light growing ever dim. I never wanted to fight. Kids before me, kids beside me, behind me... these souls did.

They numbered low in comparison with the legions guarding the gates, but fear wasn't a sight to observe upon the hill. They stood, staring. Watching us. We watched back.

We foamed, loosely resembling an undefined wall. Shields out, letting the man behind thrust their body through. I was the protection, the spears were the killers.

They started marching... No man leaving their foam as yet.

Arrows flew over my head, reaching many men, killing many men.

They marched, increasing pace. Leaving their foam and charging.

The noise wasn't a good taste. I heard my commander chuckle... many joined in his merriment. I witnessed his eyes dart to officers and they shared a smile. Moments later, two small armies were charging.

Foams broken, emotions high, I charged with the rest.

Arrows soared, missing many men, killing many men.