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Friday, November 26, 2010

Joining the invisible army

Joining the invisible army

fiction
edward w pritchard

I awoke to find myself preparing to fight against the Spanish soldiers, me allied with the American Indians down Mexico way around the year 1530. The Spanish soldiers were well armored and rode heavy on their powerful horses. Small in number but properly armed with the technology and weapons of the day.

I was with the Indians and although I didn't speak their language I was aligned to their cause of the past. Through the study of history I had an expertise in their situation, methods and probable success against this powerful foe we faced in a few moments.

The Spanish troops slowly rode toward our position. They were high up on a small hill slowly riding the powerful horses toward us, a small number of Indian soldiers and myself. It was dark and starless out and the moon had deserted the sky. The Indians braves and I were hiding in attack on the ground in high weeds about five feet apart. We clutched light but lethal thin iron spears, an anachronism for these Indians to hold, but effective weapons in close hand to hand combat. I rolled back a few flops and stared up waiting for the Spanish, anxious for combat, powerfully clutching the spear.

As the first horse walked over me its feet sunk into the dry dusty ground from the weight it carried. Looking to my left I nodded to my fellow warriors to prepare to strike with our iron spears. The Indian warriors I fought with were suddenly man shaped heaps of bleached white bones. There are no flies in fiction so the Indians were regal in decay; but no longer effective partners in battle. Alone I faced the Spanish soldiers; soldiers and an enemy who were all to real. Staring down at me they seemed sympathetic to my heroic plight. Man to man they looked across at each other unsure for the moment how to attack me.

I had joined the invisible army of the past and apparently I had chosen the wrong side to ally myself with. The strong win it seemed despite the righteousness of the cause. Still I clutched my iron spear, twenty against one or no, prepared and ready.

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