Jaspre Bark - Dawn Over Doomsday

They were a day's march from Little Bighorn. By all accounts the Injuns had got there already. Colt was waiting for Simon Peter to return with the scout's full report. The smells of roasted rodents wafted through the camp as the bodies of rats, possums, rabbits and hares were turned on spits.

To stop the men from fighting or getting drunk to relieve their boredom, Fitch and Golding were leading them in song. A special hymn they'd concocted for the occasion:

Mine eyes have see the glory of a million red skins dead,

They thought they'd fight our wives and kids but got our men instead.

To victory we march just as our saviour Colt has said

His truth goes marching on…

Colt should have smiled as they burst into their 'Glory Glorey Hallelujahs', but he wasn't in the mood. He was a day or so away from the biggest and most crucial fight of his whole career, leading an army against the most Godless people left in America. He faced the opportunity "to correct history and make certain the right side wins this time," as he had put it in his speech to the troops.

Only his heart wasn't in it, thanks to the Prophet. The man had insisted on accompanying the troops despite Colt telling him it was not the place for a man of peace. The Prophet was convinced his prophecy would be fulfilled and that they would win without a drop of blood being spilled. Personally, Colt thought they had more chance of finding an intact hymen in a cathouse, but the Prophet wouldn't be told.

Colt was still dwelling on this when he heard Simon Peter's cough at the opening of his tent. "C'mon in," he said.

Simon Peter stepped inside.

"So what's the news son?"

"Well sir, it's just as we feared. The Injuns have taken the pass which leads to the plateau. There's about five or six hundred of them holding it at the moment. The rest of them, about maybe one and a half thousand, are all camped out on the south side of the plateau."

"Any chance we can storm the pass? Maybe catch 'em napping?"

"Sir, it's too narrow for that and they're too well fortified. They'd pick us off one by one if we came down the middle and if we tried a pincer movement we'd still be fighting up hill. They could potentially hold us off for days. Even if we took the pass they could still fall back onto the plateau. There's only a tiny bridge leading to that so they could pick us off as we came."

"So that's it then? Game over, let's all go home and let them take over the country. Is that what you're saying?"

"Sir, no sir. Over on the north side the chasm between the mainland and the plateau is not as great. There's one spot where the distance to cross is only nine or so feet. What's more it's behind a rocky outcrop. So you can't see it from the south side of the plateau or the pass where the Injuns are."

"Is that right?" said Colt, as though he was only half listening. He had his back to Simon Peter and was staring up at a wooden crucifix that was hanging from the central pole of his tent.

"Sir, I don't want to speak out of turn but I think I might have guessed what you're planning to do."

"Have you now?"

"Well sir, as you're no doubt aware I sent some of our men to explore the construction site behind us and they've found some working rivet guns and welding torches. There's also a lot of girders in perfectly good condition. We've got enough men and vehicles to carry them over to the plateau to put together a bridge long enough to cross over without the Injuns seeing us. We've also got more than a few men in our command with construction experience. So I imagine you're going to order several squads to transport the materials to Little Bighorn, in advance of the main body of troops, with enough time to build them a bridge for when they arrive. Am I right sir?"

Colt didn't answer.

"Sir am I right?"

Colt turned from the crucifix and faced Simon Peter. "Are you right?"

"About your plans sir."

"Yes I think you must be."

"Do you want me to pass your orders on to the men sir? I could get them started straight away."

"Yes I think that would be a good idea."

"Sir, I hope I'm not out of line in asking this, but is everything alright?"

Colt looked directly at Simon Peter and spoke sharply. He didn't like being asked such a direct question. "You have your orders soldier. Dismissed."

The truth was that everything wasn't alright. Everything hadn't been alright since he'd met with the Prophet for their prayer meeting the night before last. From the Prophet's point of view the purpose of the meetings were to win Colt's soul back to the path of righteousness. From Colt's perspective he was trying to keep the Prophet on a tight leash.

Colt was concerned about the Prophet preaching his prophecy concerning a bloodless victory. He didn't want his men getting too complacent. They were about to face an army of two and a half thousand redskins. He didn't want them walking into battle with just a Bible and a belief in divine intervention.

Colt had challenged the Prophet about the truth of his vision. "Come on Robert," he'd said. "Now I ain't questioning every vision you've ever had. I'm sure some of 'em did come direct from God. Hell, I'll even believe He's got some express courier service between Him and you using angels, if you want me to but you gotta admit this whole business with the bloodless victory, well it's mighty convenient wouldn't you say? I mean it was great when we were on a recruitment drive. But now we need the men to face up to the hard realities of armed combat."

The Prophet had smiled. "I can only preach what my conscience dictates and what the Lord himself tells me."

This had not convinced Colt. "Don't you see how it could endanger the men's lives? Why it's plain irresponsible to preach those things. What are they going to do when they walk into battle and real bullets start flying?"

"Pray."

"Prayer don't stop bullets Robert."

"It can move mountains."

"Really? Well I ain't never seen a mountain moved that way."

"That's because you haven't been looking in the right places. And because you haven't been praying right."

"And what have I been doing wrong?"

"Pray with me Samuel and I'll pray to the Lord to send you a vision. For Christ himself to remove the scales from your eyes."

So Colt had knelt with the Prophet in prayer. Mainly just to prove to him how wrong he was. The Prophet spoke to the Lord and Colt joined him. Only this time it seemed the Lord was listening.

Colt had his eyes closed and he had the definite feeling there was someone else there in the room with them. Not right next to him, like one of his men, but hovering just above his head.

Colt opened his eyes and he wasn't in the tent anymore. He was on a hillside just outside an ancient city. In front of him there was a post in the ground. No, there were three posts. Only they weren't quite posts. Colt began to look up.

Then he stopped himself. He closed his eyes and shook his head. This wasn't real. He was inside a tent in Montana. The Prophet must have slipped him something. He opened his eyes again and the hillside was still there, only it was starting to get indistinct. He looked through it and saw the Prophet in the tent with him, still praying.

The Prophet looked over at him and smiled and pointed upwards. Colt turned to look and he was back on the hill. Slotted into the top of the post in the ground was a crossbeam. Hanging from that crossbeam by the nails in his hands was a man, with two other men hanging from the crosses either side of him.

No, it wasn't just a man. Colt took one look into his eyes and he knew who it was. In those eyes there was more suffering and more love than Colt knew existed in the world.

It was all true. He really had suffered all those centuries ago and He had gone on suffering ever since. He would continue to suffer for as long as there were men and women who needed to atone for their actions.