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And from there, dear Bayard, and dear woman whose
patience has been long, has been stalwart, it came to me as
it came to you, by report and by rumor. How as we brought
the lances to arrest, Sturm was upon the battlements, trading
his death for our time in an impossible stand, how the lance
of the Dragon Highlord rode through him cleanly and
finally, how the sun burst. How Laurana spoke to the
Dragon Highlord Kitiara over his remains, with the fortress,
the countryside, with all of Krynn watching or listening as
the future turned on her heart's sounding. All of this having
everything and nothing to do with all of us.
And I heard, as they drew me to the window, through
the bandages and the pain and the fading smell of my flesh
and the flesh of others, Sturm's funeral begin in what must
have been sunlight, and of the many words spoken over the
body only these last in recollection, vivid and fathomless as
the coded song of the birds I am hearing once more through
the windows of the hospital, saying:
FREE FROM THE SMOTHERING CLOUDS OF WAR
As he once rose in infancy,
The long world possible and bright before him,
LORD HUMA, DELIVER HIM.
UPON THE TORCHES OF THE STARS
Was mapped the immaculate glory of childhood;
From that wronged and nestling country,
LORD HUMA DELIVER HIM
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