The Vision

My Vision MY VISION Last night I had a dream. It was one of those dreams that's so realistic and probable that you can't think of it as a dream anymore; you think of it more as a vision of some sort, either of a past life you've had, what the future will be, or just of something you've done but perhaps you couldn't remember it until you dreamt it. I had one of those, except it was of some ancestor in Wales trying to fend off the English. My point of view was from my ancestor; in a sense, I was him. I have no idea when it supposedly took place, but for some reason everyone spoke perfect modern English. Anywhoo, enough of me talking. Here's my dream. I was sitting in a clearing with a bunch of smelly, dirty heathens who were all wearing brown furs. Our king, or whatever, was telling us about how we were going to attack the English tomorrow. I remember at this point being a scout, and what weapons I'd seen the English have at their disposal, and so I felt compelled to speak up at this point: "Sir, I hate to be a downer, but all we've got are these oaken staffs with a sharpened end. I saw what the English had. They had longswords and spears and horses and bows." "Why, is our youngest warrior having doubts that the Earthmother and Treefather who provided these mighty spears of oak will not help us against the English?" the king boomed. My voice weakly spoke, "Erm, well, no, not exactly, but I was just trying to be realistic in face of the odds of us getting massa..." and then I was interrupted by the king saying "Then young Newell shall lead us into battle! All hail the mighty warrior Newell!" Me: "!@#@!" I didn't sleep well that night, for obvious reasons. I couldn't help but remember the last time the Earthmother an Treefather tried to "help" us. They sent lightning bolts through the woods and set the entire forest ablaze when we prayed to them to make it stop raining so that we could have a fire. I could only imagine how they would help us on the battlefield; hail the size of two fists put together that would indiscriminately strike both sides seemed to be the most probable. I tried leaving the encampment, but a guard had been placed on watch, and every time they saw me try to leave, they would say, "Have patience, young Newell! It is not yet time to go do battle with the filthy English! We must wait until dawn!" I racked my brain as I struggled to stay awake. Becoming a shish kebob for the English didn't appeal to me much, and I think even the Earthmother and Treefather would think twice about messing with the English's swords and spears. I eventually fell asleep and was woken up by the king's grimy face staring at me. I then fully opened my eyes and saw that I was surrounded by all the warriors of the village and they were all completely excited to see that I was awake. "He lives!" cried the king, "Now we can go show those dirty English dogs a thing or two! In one thousand years, we'll have the English under our control and Wales will rule all of the country!" "Um, yes, yes indeed," I muttered. "Perhaps I may run into battle bearing the colors of our village, sir?" I requested. "But of course, Newell. You will go first into battle, bearing our standard!" He handed me a sapling that had green leaves all over it. "Yeswellgoodbyeandgoodluckifyoudontseemybodyonthebattlefieldthendontworryaboutme!" I shouted as I ran off and towards the English and away from my village. I soon reached farmland where the English were encamped and ran into their midst shouting "HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME!" A foot soldier grabbed me and said, "What on earth are you doing here? Go back to tending your sheep." "I'm not a shepherd, I'm a warrior from Wales, from the village you're about to destroy." All the soldiers that had gathered around looked at each other, and then back at me, threw their heads back and started roaring with laughter. "And," he cried, spying my sapling, "I bet this is your standard! Hahahaha!" I spluttered, "Erm, well, yes, it is actually" "AHAHAHAHAHAHA!" "And this is my...my...spear" "AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" At this point I had the whole front rolling on the ground with laughter. I had no idea what to do; my plan to surrender first to the English wasn't going nearly as well as I hoped. Mainly because they didn't believe me. I eventually staggered back to the edge of the woods, not knowing where I was going, but hopefully to avoid the battle. "NEWELL! Praise the Earthmother and Treefather, he lives! And look, he is causing the English much pain!" my king cried, pointing to the English who were still laughing their heads off at me. "Hear how he makes them writhe with pain! The battle is ours! ATTACK!" I was at a complete loss for words as I watched my dirty brethren go running out of the woods with sticks to attack the small English army, who upon seeing a bunch of hairy men carrying sticks, saplings, and logs as shields, began to laugh even harder. "NEWELL! Excellent spell! The English are in further pain! VICTORY IS OURS!" I could hear my king cry. As the warriors from my village began attacking the English, they noticed that their spears began to have no effect whatsoever on the English armor. And the spears broke completely, leaving the warriors to bang the English over the noggin with the staffs. The English were completely flabbergasted, and then decided that they'd had enough. They conked the king over the crown and carried him off. I was hiding in the bushes, until the last of the warriors was captured. "Well, thank goodness that's over. Time to go back to hunting in the fall and winter, and planting in the spring and summer," I told myself. But then I had an idea. I went over to the commander's tent and said, "I'm glad you received my tribute of workers. I'm afraid that they're quite mad, though, and had no idea what to do." The commander briefly looked up after discussing something military with his officers. "So, I take it you're the king who thought it would be amusing to attack my soldiers with branches?" "In short, yes, though I would prefer it if you left my lands. You can go ahead and take the warriors, er, my peasants with you as payment." "And what else would you give us? Wales has tried to drive us English from these lands that are rightfully ours. What else can you do?" "Well," I said, feeling that it would be best if my fellow countrymen didn't find out about this meeting, "I'm a very good scout because of all the hunting I do and how much time I spend in the woods. If you like I can lead your men through the woods to all the villages. I'd like a duchy with a tribute every year for helping you. Oh, and I'll need a stronger god than the Earthmother and Treefather." "Done!" cried the commander. We then butted heads as a sign of agreement and finality. About then I woke up. Personally, I can't wait to go to bed tonight to hopefully find out what happened to my ancestors with their duchy and tribute.