to him," he announced, "it would have made no
difference. The wound was fatal. He probably felt little."
53 Bright Sword took the boy's kit. "Lay him out over there," he
ordered. He saw the writing book with the letter sticking out, pulled
it out, and read through it. "Perhaps," he said, "I am wrong in doing
this, these are private words, but I think you all should hear. He
wrote this while he was dying.
54 'My dearest and beloved Mother, by the time you receive this you
will know I am with The Lords. But be at peace, because my final hour
was one of joy. For my people were afraid, but with the beat of my drum
I drove away their fear.
55 Some may tell you I am a hero, but I am not. The Lords touched my
shoulder and whispered in my ear, and it was with Their Strength that I
stood. And how proud I am of my brothers and sisters, for they would
not let me stand alone.
56 No person who has not seen it, can know the fear of battle, and when
the enemy is stronger than you, and greater than your numbers, the fear
is worse, still. But still, they returned, still they answered my drum,
still, they held, then drove the enemy back and destroyed him. Forever
will I be proud of those that stood with me this day.
57 I know I am your only son, and with me our line ends but do not
grieve. For because The Lords touched me, a thousand sons will go home
that otherwise would not. And for that, we shall rejoice.
58 Now, I am weary, mother. Do not grieve for me. I am sure The Lords
will send you someone to keep you company in your old age. Your Beloved
Son.'"