Historical Fiction Desription

Muslim-Janissary Warrior

Raid of Constantinople-Outpost north of Nicomedia

As i woke up the first thing I felt was the soft blanket that protected me from the lethal cold of the night. My back was sore from sleeping on the ground despite the many carpets that were between me and it. I got up onto my legs pushing my worn out pillow away from me making it roll out onto the sandy floor. While raising my hands above my head my nose caught the smell of burnt wood. Today was an abnormally quiet day compared to the strong resistance of the past days. Over by the small board I drowned my hands into the cool water formed a cup and brought them up against my face, a feeling of freshness overcoming me. Letting the water flow back into the colorful ceramic bowl it contaminated the water with a brownish black tinge. I turned and walked for so I could see the sky my legs still a little trembling, I pushed the fabric aside and stepped onto the sand. The suns warm rays hit my face giving me a smile and making me cover my eyes with my hands. Once my eyes had adapted I could see where the extraordinary smell was coming from a few of my fellows were sitting around a fire cooking some meat. Hashid, my best friend, a tall man with a rather short full beard, was telling a story while the others sat around in silence and were listening. Once in a while he was to swing his golden embraced scimitar through the air creating tension amongst his audience.