Morning all. Ready to face the day? Yeah, me nether. Still it must be done. Unless you are crawling back into bed for a few more hours. If wo, have fun and I’ll try not to be too envious. My neighbor decided to drive around the block last night listening to his radi with the window open. It was either some sort of talk radio or audio book because it was all one consistent voice. It would just fade in and out as he drove around. I thought I might actually be going crazy and hearing voices until I saw the headlights. It’s not the first time he’s done this, I just hoped the cooler weather would at least cause him to roll up the window. Oh well. Still I am awake now and there will probably be enough complaints sent his way today that at least tonight will be quiet and sleep can be recaptured. For now there is the writing prompt. Ready? Let’s go.
Thursday, October 22nd: Five of their ships slammed into the coral, tearing huge holes in their hulls.
Five of their ships slammed into the coral, tearing huge holes in their hulls. It was not an auspicious start to the invasion. While Franklin knew he would eventually be successful, his force sanctioned by the church and favored by God, the initial disaster gave him a momentary twinge. Surely that shouldn’t have happened to God’s chosen champion. He instantly squashed the thought, knowing that to doubt his victory was to doubt God’s will and question His plan. He knew in his heart of hearts that if he did start to question, then God might withdraw his favor and his victory.
Franklin squared his shoulders and ordered them to anchor on the lee side of one of the islands. Those on the mainland had not seen their approach just yet and had no reason to fear.
“we are making repairs now?” his lieutenant asked. His voice held a note of incredulity that Franklin did not like. He laughed scornfully bringing heat to the lieutenant’s cheeks.
“Of course not,” he said. We will transfer men and arms to the un damaged ships so the damagd ones will not lie so low in the water. To see any of our ships limping into port might give them false courage. This way our numbers remain the same, our fleet as fierce as before and we don’t give heart to our enemies.”
“Of course,” his suitably chastened lieutenant replied. “A wise move, sir.”
Franklin did not bother with a reply. Men and weapons were dutifully ferried from the five damaged ships. As the transfer began, a change in the wind was felt. Franklin turned and saw a storm slowly edging towards them from the edge of his vision. He and his men were so focused on their prize and so distracted by the coral reef that they hadn’t noticed it’s slow but steady approach until the winds shifted.
Franklin judged it no matter. The men and weapons would be transferred and they would no doubt arrive on the mainland before the storm actually broke. He smiled softly to himself. His enemies might think he brought the storm. He could almost hear the tales told of this day, how his fleet rode in with the storm. It was sublime. All his earlier misgivings were banished.
The wind brought with it choppier waves and some of the smaller dinghys were swamped.”Overloaded,” he snorted. “How could they be so careless. Still we have plenty of men and arms to see us through this coming battle.”
Franklin drifted off into his vision of the storyteller’s version of his victory. The storm and his force breaking onto the shores as one, Nature and God’s chosen united.
It wasn’t until he heard the first cries that he shook himself out of his reverie. Franklin looked around and found the present a much less pleasant place. Men and arms were still being ferried from the damaged ships, but the storm was not waiting for Franklin’s cue to break. It was upon them now. In the distance he could see one of the damaged ships begin to list as it took on water. He heard the shouts as those who were left aboard to sail her into port, dove off the sides, trying to reach the departing boats rather than sink with the ship.