Feeling fear isn’t the problem, she recalled. The problem lies in allowing your fear to dominate you.
“For those who fall in battle, death is not the end,” the priest said. “They rise to the heights of war, to serve the gods in their battles with evil. They will feast in the halls of war, then go out to fight and then return, brothers in arms with the gods themselves. We honor their memory just as we look forward to joining them.”
Emily kept her face expressionless. The prospect of spending eternity feasting and fighting didn’t appeal to her, although she could see why some people might like it. A godly realm might turn war into a game, rather than a life-or-death challenge. The slain might rise again to feast and fight, after they fell in heavenly war. But it didn’t strike her as restful. It wasn’t what she wanted.
And it might be a lie told to encourage the troops, the cynical side of her mind noted, sarcastically. Why fear death if it is merely the gateway to eternal reward?
“Casper died, and died well.” The priest held up one hand in a rough salute. “And we deem him worthy to pass through the Iron Gates and take his place among the elect.”
There was a long pause. Emily risked another look at Caleb. He was watching the coffin with grim eyes. General Pollack was completely expressionless, even as he stepped forward and drew his sword. The blade shone so brightly that she was sure it had been charmed.
“From birth, life is a risk,” General Pollack said. His face was as immobile as granite. “Parents swiftly come to learn that they cannot shield their child from danger, that they cannot protect them against the world…that even trying can do terrifying damage. It is never easy to strike the balance between supporting one’s children and letting them make their own mistakes, between being there to help them and allowing them to deal with the consequences of their ignorance. Parenting…is not easy.
“My son chose to follow his father into the military. I was proud of him even as I feared for his life. Casper was my firstborn son, the fruit of my loins. I did not want to lose him. I wanted him to remain safe and well. And yet, I could not stand in his way. A youngster has to make his own mistakes before his parents die, before he stands alone against a hostile world.
“He thought I knew nothing, of course. Such is the folly of youth.”
He paused. Emily kept her thoughts to herself. If Casper’s father had told him that before he died ...
“It is tragic when a father outlives his son,” General Pollack said. “I believed there would come a time when Casper carried the torch to my coffin and lit the fire. Instead, I must watch as my son’s coffin burns. I mourn for his loss…
“And yet I am proud of my son.
“Like me, when I was young, he wanted to prove himself. Like me, he chose war as his way to prove himself. He sought out a challenge, then another challenge…when the time came, he did not flinch. He was no coward. His death did not shame him or any of us.”
There was a second pause. This time, it seemed to last forever.
“It is never easy to know how one will react, when one faces the challenge.” General Pollack held up his sword and considered it reflectively, then returned the blade to his belt. “It is not something you learn until you actually do it. And then, you find out what you actually are…
“My son could have hurried back to the army. It would have been easy for him to justify a tactical retreat on the grounds that someone had to take a warning to the city before it was too late. But he didn’t. When the time came, when he was tested, my son proved himself worthy of his heritage. And so I am proud, even as I mourn his loss.”
He stepped back, smartly. Emily found herself blinking away tears as Sienna moved forward, her gaze sweeping the hall. General Pollack hadn’t been that good a father to his oldest son, she knew. Casper had been trapped between his father’s expectations and his father’s legacy…he’d even been on the verge of suicide before he’d finally had a chance to prove himself. And yet, the general truly mourned his son. Casper had grown up, but there had been no time to mend their relationship.
“We bring our children into the world.” Sienna’s voice was so composed that Emily knew she was in distress. “We birth them, we bathe them, we teach them their lessons and show them how to behave. And we watch, helplessly, as infants grow into children and children grow into adults, pushing gently against us all the time. There always comes a time when the cord must snap, when the newborn adult must stand on his own, when…
“I have seen war. I have seen skirmishes and clashes; I have campaigned against the necromancers and hunted rogue sorcerers until only one of us emerged victorious. When Casper came to me to ask for my blessing, I knew I would sooner go back to war myself than let him go. In my mind, he was still the little boy I’d raised from birth. I did not want him to die.
“But I looked him in the eye,” she added. “I told him to make me proud. I told him to live up to the legacy of both sides of the family. And I hated myself for saying it, because I knew that war kills. I have lost friends and family in battles, some killed outright while others were never the same afterwards. I knew my son could die.
“I let him go.
“I could not have stopped him. How could I? He was a grown man, as little as I might care to admit it. He would have resented me if I’d stopped him from going, even – perhaps – hated me. I’ve seen lives ruined because they couldn’t go to war, because they were mocked and belittled until harsh words became a cancer gnawing at their souls. Casper wanted to go, and I could not stop him. I had to let him go.