The Children
Do you see the children going off to war? I do. The squires congregate eagerly in the courtyard as they prepare their knight masters' armor and horses, chests puffing out with pride as they talk about how many Scanrans they will slay in the upcoming months. The swords are sharpened, the knives are polished, and the axes are firmly belted at their sides. In their eyes, I see the images of imagined glory and triumph achieved on the field of battle. They will fight nobly for their knight masters, their families, and for their king.
But what would they say if they knew what their king really thought? Would they be so proud to fight for king and honor if they knew?
They are children. They do not understand why they are fighting, and they can never know what they are heading towards with eager eyes and heads held high. This is no war of ideals, no good triumphing over evil, no heroic battle. There will be blood. And pain. And fear. They will scream and cry for their mothers as their lives drip away on the cold Scanran soil. They will petition every god they can remember with their scattered thoughts as they bargain for just one more minute of life.
I will lie. I will tell their parents that they died honorably and bravely in the war, fighting for a cause greater than one individual life. I will convey the title of honorary knight on all of those foolish children who thought they would live forever. Their bodies will no doubt be left forever in that frozen waste; their families will congregate over empty graves as they wonder, why?
This war will end, as all wars end, with tears and forgotten memories. The next group of pages and future squires will parade into the palace with bravado and aspirations. "My brother was up in Scanra, he killed twenty of them before they got him. Think we'll ever get to fight like that?" They can only hope, because there will always be young boys ready to die for their kingdom and their king.
Do you see the children going off to war? King Jonathan does.