Barnabas, commander in arms of a great nation,
was fat, greasy and ungracefully bearded. He was a man who came about his high
power through hard work and dedication but didn’t command the respect to go
with it. The King would openly mock him, the other commanders would ridicule
him and worst of all the men he led would laugh at him.
Despite
the added persistence required to have his voice heard, very few could deny
Barnabas abilities (though none would ever spontaneously compliment the man’s
skills). He had never completed a clean mission or been involved in a flawless
battle, but he very rarely lost and thus he had retained his high post.
Yet
Barnabas grew frustrated for he knew his hair was greying and his joints were
seizing, and when he would finally lie his sword down he knew he would be
recalled as a joke and not the fine warrior he was. In the last parts of his fighting
days he was determined to make this happen.
Barnabas
and a group of five hundred men were ordered by the King to march out to meet a
resistance of approximately three hundred and rout them. Barnabas would march
in the middle, hearing his men whisper and chuckle all around him. When they
stopped to rest for the night and Barnabas tried to make a moral boosting
speech, his men would ignore or talk over him.
After
three long days of resilience Barnabas and his army came to a large canyon in
the dead of night, both in width and depth, where the only way of crossing was
via a rickety wooden bridge that swayed violently in the wind. The first three
hundred men uneasily made their way across in the darkness, guided only by a
torch flame.
Barnabas crossed next, bearing the
torch. As they approached the other side of the canyon, the soldier behind
snatched the flame away and began waving it around in a poor impersonation of
his commander. In his stupidity, the man set fire to the wooden bridge which
very quickly spread and burned away the support ropes. Barnabas managed to leap
off the bridge in time, but the other two hundred men fell the entire depth of
the canyon to their deaths.
Regardless of how they made fun of him,
Barnabas was still the commander of these men. He realised they were mostly
family men, fighting in these skirmishes and battles to support their wives and
children. Because of this, he took no pleasure in their deaths, but instead
mourned heavily for them. This was the type of man Barnabas was.
When he turned to face the remaining
army he had at his disposal, he found himself to be slightly intimidated at
first because he turned to face three hundred shocked and frightened faces. Had
he set fire to the bridge because a soldier had mocked him? Aforementioned, Barnabas
was a good man, but as a commander he was also an opportunity seizer.
Yes. He had burned the bridge as
punishment. That was the lie Barnabas upheld, satisfied with the horror
stricken soldiers that now had a fearful respect for him.
They marched onwards at a faster pace
and reached the battle field hours before they had anticipated. Barnabas
spotted the enemy’s banners at the top of a hill and ordered his men to charge.
The soldiers protested that they were fatigued and that attacking an enemy on a
hill would put them at a disadvantage. Even Barnabas knew this, but he lusted
over the control he had and pulled at the strings of his army to charge.
Three hundred weary men lifted their swords
and ran without pace up the hill. They were easily spotted by scouts and
archers on the hill who slowly began picking off Barnabas’ men one by one.
Still they rushed the hill and when they reached the top Barnabas realised what a costly
error he had made. Blanketed on the other side of the hill weren’t the minimal
three hundred men they were expecting, but instead a thousand soldiers with
gleaming armour charged back.
Retreat was the only option as they fled
with their tails between their legs being chased down like dogs. About a
hundred and fifty weren’t killed by the barrages of arrows as they ran and ran
as far as they could and as far as they could was the canyon, now without a
bridge to cross.
The enemy was approaching fast and
Barnabas realised death was imminent. However it was at the hands of his own
men, who believed he had burnt their route to safety, as they decapitated him
and pushed his body off the cliff. The army cheered and fought valiantly,
valiantly enough that a handful of men managed to escape back to their home
nation and inform the King what had become of Barnabas.
The men twisted the story with great
hatred, ridiculing the fallen commander so much so that the King and the other
commanders were laughing by the stories end. It was forever known in that
nation that Barnabas was a joke and not a fine warrior.
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