I lay staring up at the blue sky, the gentle sunlight caressing my face, the soft breeze ruffling the feathery mane that topped the hard black leather helmet. I took a deep breath and grabbed at the hole in my breast as the pain shot through my chest, as I pulled my riding gloves away I saw them coated in a thick viscous layer of red blood. My blood.
I could hear the crackling cackle of musketry further down the valley but no more was aimed at me. My horse was gone and I was laying here dying in this field. Maybe someone would find me and take me to a field hospital or kill and rob me. Who knew?
I tried to crane my head up to look up the hill to where my fellows would be mounted and surveying this battle. Just a short time ago I was up there with them, ready to repulse either of the two embattled armies who decided to take the high ground from us. We'd taken this town in a vicious long running battle that ran street to street, house to house and even room to room.
As the bulk of our forces battled to maintain the roads and quash any stragglers a group of us young bucks were mounted and moved to the ridge to watch the river valley. There we had watched the blue flags moving up the river whilst the red banners moved out of the next town to meet them.
It had been a beautiful sight, columns of blue uniforms, the rumble of kettle drums, the whistling of fifes as they moved up the river valley. When battle was joined the two opposing armies locked their pikes and the muskets spewed smoke and death into the opposing ranks.
We watched, a neutral and distant force, as shot, steel and iron poured into soft flesh. We watched them fall. We watched them die.
The opposing commanders were suddenly locked in combat as the command detachments blundered into each other. I silently urged the blue commander to finish this. Though we stood on opposing sides I had the utmost respect for her ability and her conduct in this war rather than the scarlet wearing opportunist who fought through deception and ambush.
Then it happened, my heart jumped to my throat as I saw her fall from her saddle and crash to the swaying grass. I turned to my friend who sat next to me. He didn't flinch.
I tried to turn back to face the storm but kept finding my eyes drawn inescapably towards that duel as if nothing else was happening on that field.
Suddenly it all became clear. Nothing else mattered, not the two armies, not the distance to ride, not my comrades. What would they say when they found out what had happened to me? What would our Commander say?
That I had been a fool? For what else is a hero but a successful fool?
I put my spurs to horse and urged her down into that valley. With the song of drawing steel and the glimmer of light that kissed the blade I drew my sabre and plunged forward towards the duel, my eyes locked on the blue jacket that was pulling itself up to continue the fight.
Despite the seeming leagues distance I'd cleared it in moments urging my horse over fences and a small stream in great bounds. I would arrive soon and my silver sabre would parry a blow and reposte into the chest of the offender.
I didn't see who fired the shot, nor did I hear it. All I felt was the searing heat and pain as the bullet passed through my gold uniform and out the other side. The warmth of my life's blood spread across my chest and suddenly I was falling towards the soft valley floor which rushed to embrace me.
It had seemed like the logical thing to do, the right thing to do but I hadn't even made it to the battle that raged below. My sacrifice would go unnoticed.
I found myself laughing to myself as I thought about what I'd done, what I'd sacrificed and the level of my failure.
I looked up at the sky one last time and smiled. It was a beautiful place to die and die I did.
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