Play the Fucking Trumpet
The armada of ships swept along the coast, their brightly coloured sails waving and flapping through the bright sunlit day. The bright blue smashing through the small white clouds, its overwhelming cobalt presents overthrowing the sea for biggest blue. Rows of men stood before Leonidas, his booming voice echoing through the ship, the tone slamming pure confidence and authority into the soldiers' heads.
"LISTEN UP! I'm sure you're all frustrated, the fucking cowards before us keep calling for meals each time we attack,"
"Wow… war has grown soft, we allow lunch breaks in the middle of fights?"
"We are the greatest military, if we cannot keep beating the enemy at their best we do not deserve to win at all." a man next to Leonidas chimed up in response to Mahon, his nasally voice beaming with pride.
"Actually… Mahon is right, we have been given the order to ignore the heralds, so my men, my comrades LET'S SLAUGHTER THOSE ARGIVES!!!!!!!!!!!!!" a roar of men rippled from the ship, the rhythmic slamming of spear on shield emanating from the fleet.
As the men charged onto the beeches, their feet clattering across the grains of yellow, instantly the horns blew the sky ripping with toots and blows. The desperate sound crashing across the battlefield as the Spartans roared. The men crying and shouting drowned out the brass sound. As they rose across the banks clumsily shot arrows fell on top of them the people surrounding mahon fell their bodies smashing down to the ground making pathways for the people behind… but there was nothing that could stop the berserk rage of the men, their patience and restraint had built up over the weeks, the slow, slow war had filled each one with them for a disdain and hatred for the trumpeting sound, each blow pumping them with courage and strength. Mahon reached the top his fingers fidgeting along the blade as he spotted the golden instrument, his eyes glinting as he pushed past the other men, slicing through archers and swordsmen his hands folding around the sword and speaking the man out like a predator stalking its prey, as he closed in he moved slowly his eyes glinting with rage.
"Play the fucking trumpet!"
The man pressed himself along the ramparts, the wooden spikes sticking out of the ground forming a small wall,
"Do you know how many times? How many times I was this close," mahon pushed his fingers together as he moved forward, the tips going a pale yellow as the pressure increased, his eyes burning in anger and irritation. "I was so close to taking this fucking fort and going home, then maybe I could've fought him again and regained my honour, but no, because of you and your fucking tactics I had to wait a month running up and down that stupid beach dreaming of slitting your throat."
"Pl… I was just following orders!"
"So am I."