How to kill a kingdom:

I rarely remembered dreams, but this one seemed to stick. Maybe it got entwined with the coming week, as fact or fiction, but still, it stuck. It was a deep heavy sleep, one where dreams come to life.

It was the day I had joined the cause, I could see a young, nervous fresh-faced man stood next to the tent. He twitched nervously, before stepping into the light, and I could see his face even better. I instantly realized it was me, though somewhat more obnoxious to the terrors of war and less weather beaten, it was me. A tall, lanky man stepped out of the tent, who had warts and blisters on his face, yet still a warm and open one, as it was to this day. I spoke some words, that I cannot recall and he laughed and entered the tent with me hurrying behind him.

It was some minutes before they emerged from the tent, though the voices carried on the wind, and I could hear the agreement that I should become a harquebuster. I spoke the words to myself, Cromwell’s own nasal voice in my head as I whispered it.

Cromwell and I exited the tent minutes later, I in uniform. The words he spoke to me as we made our way to the stables, both aroused my enthusiasm and warmed me at the same time. He explained the war, and why our cause was just, and also told me that the men care for each other like brothers, and the officers were like fathers to the men. He then shouted to the stable-lad to bring out their finest horse, and fine he most definitely was, though I was to discover that he was skittish to canons at a later date. I mounted him, though had to swing my sword high.

“Now, Zachary Archer, show that scarecrow over there what your made of,” Cromwell shouted over the sudden wind as he pointed.

I drew my sword and pistol and sent my horse into a trot, then a gallop. At about one hundred meters I fired, and a spew of straw came out of the scarecrows head. I then backlashed at it with such velocity that the head fell clean of, thudding as it hit the ground. I reloaded my pistol as I turned my horse, and fired at yet another dummy. It was point blank fire and the post holding the dummy shattered and slowly collapsed. I could see the shock in cromwell’s eyes, and that was the end of my dream, as I faded into reality…