The Story of the Great World War

"King Philip, an emissary from Frederick wishes to speak with you, will you receive him?" asked Alonzo, the king's royal advisor.

Philip had grown weary of the constant fighting, his empire was the basic tool of the Germans, and he finally realized it just a few days ago.

"Yes, Alonzo, send him in".

The Great War was not so great after all, it wasn't Europe v. the world it was Spain v. the world, Germany had yet to lend a single soldier to the efforts. And to think, just a short while ago, the world was at such peace. The invasion of the Celts prompted a Spanish-German alliance, the Celts were militarily stronger than Europe at the time, and it seemed like a great idea, but when the Carthaginians landed on the scene, everything changed, the huge costly war Spain endured was terrible, its cities ravaged, its people killed, its treasures plundered. Philip was at a loss for words.

"Hello Franz!" exclaimed the king.
"Philip", said Franz, bowing. "We have a major problem..."
"Yes?" said King Philip. He was rather worried.
"Well, the Carthaginians have broken through, they are approaching Europe from Russia!"
"We have no troops there! We couldn't muster an army that quick if we wanted to, they are all in Africa and Asia!" exclaimed Philip, worried that his nation would be taken out from the blindside.
"Yes I do realize this, Pamplona is in dire need of arms, we must warn you."
"Well, Germany is right there, couldn't there be some sort of a strike against this assault, couldn't your troops hold them off for a while so we can muster some Musketeers?" asked the King.
"Well, that cannot occur King Philip", said the German.
"Why not?"
"We have signed a Cease Fire agreement with the Carthaginians, we cannot help you, but we had to warn you, I am sorry", said Franz as he slowly left.

Pamplona was a new city, the frontier, thought Carlos. It was a city that had yet to gain an identity, that had yet to even have a mayor! It was new, right on the Black Sea, right across from Saragossa, the largest city in the world. He was so excited to be moving there, he would start his own business, fixing up broken ships, and eventually own a merchant ship of his own. When he arrived he was a bit disappointed, but then, he was excited once again, when he realized how beautiful the city was, it had a bright sky, green grass, beautiful buildings, and even beautiful women. He wanted to get his mind off of his brother's death. His brother Pablo had died in Egypt, defending the colony of Malaga against the Carthaginian onslaught. Due to this, he had always spited the Germans, they brought Spain into a stupid war, the Spanish were traders, and merchants, they were not fighters. Although as it turned out, their army proved to be the most powerful and efficient soldiery in the world. They were fighting on three fronts, Britain, Africa and Persia, and winning, no dominating their enemies.

Just then there was an uproar in the town square, there was a Zulu man, he was dead, with an arrow in his back, and a hunter stood there, and said "Look what I have found, the Zulu!" The township was shocked. Carlos had never seen such a man before, his brother wrote him about the powerful Black Army of Africa, and how they dominated every Spanish garrison that attacked their capital, and how they formed an alliance with Carthage, but he had never seen such a man before.
"If they are here, so must be the Carthaginians!" the hunter shouted, we must warn the soldiers, we must warn Granada! Carlos ran up to the hunter.
"How long ago did you find him?" said Carlo.
"Around three hours ago boy! Get your musket, we must go fight us some Carthaginians!" bragged the hunter!
"No, if they are this close, they can be here any minute, we must send a man on horse to Granada, he must get some soldiers, some militia must be moved here, some musketeers"!

It was dark, and cold. Enrique was put into the garrison of General Fredrico, they were about to invade Kells, he was always a good shot. Since he was born, and couldn't fathom the idea that these people did not have guns. His friend Jose was with him, he had known Jose since he was shooting, and that was years ago.

"Do you see anything?" asked Enrique.
"Yeah, there are around six men, stationed on top of the wall, I don't see us invading this city to tell you the truth, look how thick the walls are!" he handed the telescope to Enrique.
"Yeah, you are right, they are going to have to hit it with some Catapults. I could hit these soldiers from right here ya know?"
"Yeah right, we gotta get back to camp, we are going to attack in two days, we need to tell them we need catapults right away!" just then an arrow shot through Jose's head, Enrique looked up, and grabbed at his pistol.
"DONT MOVE!" said the voice in perfect Spanish. "Come with me, don't touch your sword, hand it to me. NOW!" yelled the man.
"Enrique pulled out his pistol" this is merely a trinket, it is not a weapon." he handed the pistol to the man.
"What is this?"
"It is a Zulu pipe, it is very dirty, and it is not worth anything, I just like to keep it to remember my brother, he died in Zimbabwe." the man looked it over.
"Erin, what do you make of it?" he asked his fellow soldier. "I have no clue, what does this thing do here?" asked the Celt. As he pulled on the trigger, a loud shot rang out Enrique began to run.

TO BE CONTINUED....