All around her the battle raged, the drums beat continuously, orders were shouted. She was confused, trying desperately to keep her small musket block together. Once more, she had gotten rid of the Halberd and joined them in the fighting. Which just made it all the more confusing. She was giving orders, loading at the same time, and then firing. Her head swam with all the different colours around her.

The opposing block were so huge, and very well drilled. Their bright blue coats almost frightened her, and they were advancing at such a fast rate.

"CLUB YOUR BUTTS GUYS!"

Hand to hand, probably one of the most dangerous things they would do that day. Many of the opposition had swords as well as their guns, and they could cause damage. To her left, Colonel Bard's men were storming forwards. She hadn't realized it was that time already. In a blind panic she looked at them, saw Hesselridge's lobsters advance, cutting down each and every one of them. Heads were lost, blood flew in all directions and soon, the field was running with blood. She heard orders for regiments to go and help.

"It is useless…" she whispered to herself. Yet she couldn't say anything. She looked at where the Lord Hopton was, and swore she could see a look of complete defeat on his face. All around them, people were dying. Lord John Stuart had already been gravely injured and taken from the field. And Tillier's were the only people on the field who knew what was going to happen to him.

All of a sudden, she found herself face to face with the enemy. She felt as of she was back on the re-enactment field of battle, just with an extra bit of added danger. And the fact that she had to kill some people. Roaring, she raised the butt of her musket and pushed her way through the opposing block. She drew her sword as well, hardly noticing as she cut through flesh, hardly noticing as blood splattered itself over her face.

It was as if she was fighting behind a curtain of rage. She would stop for nothing. If she had to die, this is where she wanted it to be. Perhaps someone back in 2008 would carry on with her work on this battlefield, and she was proud to think that she had fought there.

But something made her stop and look up. Stood directly in front of her, clear amongst the haze of gunpowder and stuffling noise of the battle, was the young man from earlier. He gave her a small smile, which she returned. It was as if they were in a world of their own. He walked forward,

"I'm sorry…"

"What for?"

"Waller has ordered me to take you…"

She gasped, stepping backwards, "NO!"

But there was nothing she could do. He advanced on her, sword drawn. She brought up her musket, and tried fighting him off, but he overpowered her too easily.

Something connected with her head and the world went blurry. She felt her knees buckle, and saw the ground get closer and closer. And then, there was only black.

***

29th March 2008

Henry Tillier gazed at the beast in amazement. What was this thing, this cart with no horses that was as large as a house. Surely it must be possessed by the devil? These things were everywhere, not only these huge monstrosities but smaller ones as well, ones with two wheels that buzzed like a wasp. He glanced at his ensign, who was also gazing at the beast with wide eyes.

"Is it witchcraft Sir?"

Henry shrugged, "Paul says not. Yet I do not believe him. These things cannot move on their own without some form of devilish intervention…I suggest we find a church, and pray for our souls…"

The ensign only nodded, too confused about this strange world to argue with his commander. In fact Henry had seen a church and was making his way there all too hastily, dodging passers by who were giving them strange looks and those strange contraptions that moved on their own. He followed his commander quickly, not wanting to be left behind somewhere strange.

And then there, the church. A big blue sign was outside it, with big gold letters.

"St Lawrence's Church…"

Henry Tillier frowned. He had heard the name of this church before. But he still walked quickly up to the open doors.

But what he found inside shocked him to the core. This was no Roman Catholic Church. Where were all the images of the saints? Where were the stained glass windows? Surely this place was not full of heretics as well? No, maybe this was one of those churches destroyed by Henry VIII all those years ago.

But there, at the front of the church, was a priest. He stood up, ran forward and grabbed the man in the black cassock by the shoulders, "Father, help me…what faith is this? What denomination of church?"

The priest smiled and shook Henry's hands off his shoulders, "It's a protestant church sir, Church of England…"

"Not Roman Catholic?"

The priest shook his head, "Oh no…the Catholic church is further in town. May I ask why you are dressed like that? Were you part of the re-enactment at Cheriton?"

"Yes…yes…" Henry shook his head, "You say protestant…you mean, reformist? Lutheran?"

"Well in a way I suppose so. The Anglican church stemmed from Henry VIII's beliefs in reform back in the 1500's. This is one of those churches I suppose…why is it so important?"

By now, Henry was getting angry, "Why is it so IMPORTANT? This is a church of HERESY! This whole world is formed by the devil!"

He stormed forward, grabbed the plain and simple cross from the altar and flung it across the room, making it crash into the pews. The priest ducked in fear.

"My King would be horrified to hear of this. I will see that you burn in the fires of hell Sir, and join the heretics to whom you belong!"

And without another word, he stormed from the church building, crossing himself over and over again. His ensign sighed, glancing at the priest in fear, before quickly following the Commander out.