Daily Flash Fiction Challenge

         Warning bells tolled through the camp. General Macbeth erupted from his tent wearing his signature duel sabers on his hips, a sharpened battle axe on his back, and a bugler following close behind. The general jumped onto his regal black stallion, Artair, a warhorse given to him by his late father. A mounted scout, fast galloping from the northern border of the camp, hailed the general. “General Macbeth! Th’ English they approach from th’ East!”
         “How many” barked General Macbeth, “how many did ye’ see!?”
         “Too many, sir.”
         General Macbeth wheeled on the spot yelling to be heard over the commotion. “Prepare for battle!” The bugler grabbed his bugle and trumpeted out the command. General George Macbeth surveyed The Celtic Brigade. The men composed themselves, picking up swords, dousing fires, and falling in line. The Scots that stood before of him now were battle-hardened warriors ready for the thrill of the fight. Their Irish comrades weren’t so quick. The general laughed to himself, turning to his lieutenant, “I don’ think they like me, but they will fight nonetheless.”
         Once the soldiers were mobilized and ready General Macbeth raised his hand to command attention: “my countrymen, today we figh’ the final battle! Today we win independence from th’ dastardly English. Irishmen, I know ye’ don’ like takin’ orders from me, but we figh’ for a common purpose! We figh’ to rid ourselves of an oppressive King. We figh’ to be free! We figh’ to live! Th’ English are there, jus’ over the rise, waiting to be conquered by us! It is we who will win! Will you figh’ for me?”
         “Aye!”
         “WILL. YOU. FIGHT. FOR. FREEDOM!”
         “AYE!”
         “Then go! Figh’! Bleed! Die for freedom! CHARGE!”
         The sounds of thundering feet drowned out everything. Today, they would win freedom.


(297 words)