A Clash Of Steel

• Stephanie Jammu, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2007

A high pitched neighing echoed of a vast battlefield from one of the armies’ camps.
Aldred watched the horses whinny and rear as the men struggled to keep them calm. He was glad at that moment for not being chosen for the cavalry, even though it meant he had a better chance of survival. Aldred swallowed hard. He pushed the thought out of his mind. He thought instead about how his life had held no meaning until the week before when he had received the conscription notice ordering him to fight in this war. He had been so excited at first, to leave the forge where he and his father made their living. The work there was dull and stuffy and he hardly had anytime to spend time relaxing or hunting in the forest near the forge. He looked at the weapons that the army had equipped him with. A broad sword and a shield. He stared with distaste at his weapons. He had never used weapons like this before even though he had learned how to make them at the forge. The sword was heavy and clumsy. He had surreptitiously buckled on his hunting knife. Its presence made him feel better.
The fear was rising in his chest making him sweat and shake. He had never killed a man before. From what he had learned from his days in the small church, killing another human was a sin, and sins had consequences from varying degrees of harshness. He thought about the time when he was younger, when he had been caught stealing a chicken from his neighbour’s pen. He remembered his father’s anger and the whipping that had followed. He smiled grimly. Yes, every sin had a consequence, what would his be for fighting in this war? Death? No, death was too final. It would be something more lasting, to remind him of what he had done, wouldn’t it?
Aldred didn’t have time to ponder on it anymore. With a harsh command from one of his officials, he drew his sword. It made a rasping sound as it slid from his scabbard. He adjusted his shield. He didn’t know if he would be strong enough to use it. He faced the battle field. Images of his home, his family and everything he knew in life mingled with the tears lingering in his eyes. He brushed them away. Now was not the time to think of things past, but of the battle that was the present and the future. At bellowed orders from their commander, the enemy charged; their swords, shields, lances and spears glinting in the red light from the sun. The clash of steel, the screaming of the dying, and the thudding of horses’ hooves on the hard ground, resonated throughout the blood splattered battle field.
Aldred let loose a harsh, bellowing war cry and charged forwards, his sword swinging in the dim light as the blood drenched sun looked on from the sky.