this story is about a young british captian who fights his emotions in a deceving story of betryal and vengance
it was a cold morning, with it the smell of autume on the way edward woke up violently from a bad dream. he breathed heavily feeling the sweat drip down his rough war scared face. "sir the french armies are moving to the south, were waiting for orders". Edward slowed his breathing and said in a chokey voice, "send a full force, lets show the bastards what revenge tastes like". The soilder left Edwards tent, Edward went over to the corner of his tent where there was a small table with a silver bowl of water lying on top of it. he looked at the water seeing a person staring at him he knew the face was his reflection, but he refused to believe that person was him, he poured the water onto the floor and left the tent. he felt the cold wind pass through him as if he was no more than a grian of grass, he saw frost like diamonds stained on the wet grass and he sighed. around him was choas the crying of injured men from the battle front he saw in there eyes the same fear that he saw in the face of the boy in his dream. he began to re-illustrate the face of the boy in his dreams. the boy had blood streaking down his face. tracks of tears dried on his dusty face. the boy was limp and appeard not to have life in him and he heared a ruthless violent scream and he knew immediatly, it was his scream it was his dream, it was his fate.
"sir lord Alfred awaits your company. shall i send word to be execting you soon?". Edward looked around as if to come up with an answer. "yes i will meet him at once". Edward walked to the southern camp were the genrals often met to discuss the war and heavily drink. he walked in the heated room despite the warmth of the tent, he was always left with the same cold and numb feeling he had felt it for so long that it became part of him. lord Alferd greeted him joyfully "ahe Edward no Sir Edward!" he chukled. "yes my lord what is it that i may have the pleasure of helping you with?" replied Edward in a unattentive matter. "yes... im sure you have heard of the French forces advancing on British soul. We have come up with a lets say plan." said Lord Alfred. "i-i mean we think it would be wise to start a attack on the French fort built near the Salter river." Edward looked coldy at Alfred examining his pale face. Although Lord Alfred was a short small man he was able to desieve undefended minds and climb the social status bar. he had been able to mockingly gain power by deceiving good natured and respected men. Edward finaly found the courage to reply, "so let me guess you have decided to send me to attempt to invade this small fort for you. In hope that you may take credit for it because lets face it a mier captains word against a highly respected Lord of lords? Lord Alfred? hmm..." replied Edward in attempt to mock Alfred. "no need to get tasty there Edward you should take this as an houner and privilage, not many rooky captains get this previliage to lead 200 men and be given a mission this risky." replied Alfred defendently. Edward grabed Alfred by the colar and draged him to the floor. He violently wispered in Alfreds ear "Shut up you worthless deceving dog! i know your plan let me go in there and take the fort easily destroy them turn them into nothing more than the soil under my boots. than i come back and you take credit for my work, and the work of the dead hero's that lost there lives fighting for your freedome. where is my title hu? LORD Alfred? where is there title? Replied Edward violently. "gaurds! gaurds! Souted Alfred. two gaurds ran into the tent and grabed Edward Alfred got up he tried despriatly to wipe of the look of fear of his face. he shookenly cried "Ed-Edward remember this i will make you pay for embarising me like this. you will see Edward You will see!
Edward left the tent madly he walked like a angry tornado destroying everything in its path. he stoped. "MEN, prepare for battle we leave immediatly." shouts of orders came from the camp horses were lined at the camp gates.