They came with axes spears and longer bows
from the far side of the lake.
They sped through trees and toward our homes
and their commander stayed.
My father said we cannot fight
and we went down below,
with all the others full of fright,
to where the river flows.
We heard the battle cry and roar
then falter into quiet.
with shushing sounds and nothing more.
It is not Oros way to riot.
We were hiding down below
and so we did not see
the way they slit invading throats
and hung them up to bleed.
The commander of their forces
must have known deep dread.
I wonder how it felt for him
to see the river running red.
Not one man we lost that day
nor woman, mage, or spirit.
When an army fights as this one does
there is no chance to fear it.
It only took one age-long hour
before we went back home.
I watched friends haul the dead away
and helped make graveyard clothes.
Warded from scavengers and bugs,
protected from carrion crows;
the bodies were carted out with care
and laid along the border stones.
We went home and lit our lights
and watched red water run.
The commander stayed across the lake
until the night was done.
He left us in the morning
back to his home he tread.
I wonder how it felt for him
to see his well respected dead.
4/7/2018
