The Cherub

The soft light of a full winter moon graced the earth that day. The pungent smell of overturned earth was rich in the air. Even in this muted gray moonlight every leaf of every bush seemed to stand out in sharp relief. They wound their way through dust-streaked markers that was all that was left as a reminder of those that lay there; some nobles, some rich traders and some simply poor peasants. Maybe it was not all that was left as remembrance, as their memories and hopes lived and breathed in the hearts of others.

As a child of ten his brother could only gaze in awe at the reverence with which his father was treated. As far as he could see, pairs of elite commando guards flanked the path at intervals of every five feet or so. As they crossed these sentinels of death, they turned in solemn unison to a signal only they could perceive, with their weapons raised in gracious salute.

Decked out and resplendent in full military regalia they reminded him of his father at times, but those times were not the ones he would like to remember. He remembered the side of his father he had seen more often and had liked best. He saw the kindhearted, gentle man, a man who always cared and had a special glint in his eye for his son. Some said he resembled his father in many ways, but he was too young to comprehend or care. He could not even grasp the full depth of what his father’s demise meant. But as the simple wooden coffin was carefully lowered into the ground by four of the elite guards using two ropes passed through the handles of the casket, he felt an incredible, undeniably adult sense of loss.

As he saw the dirt cascade onto the rough wooden frame, he took solace from the solid form of his stepbrother who stood nearby. For some reason his presence seemed to demand respect, even though he was neither physically commanding nor debonair. His quiet confidence seemed to draw the child towards him and it had always been so.

His elder brother and stepbrother were practically inseparable and were brothers in every sense of the word. It was with his brother alone that he saw his stepbrother crack a smile, and when it came, it was truly open and kind. But never with anyone else. It seemed strange to his child’s mind as he thought it through, for every one he knew tended to smile more often. Had he known the full history behind his stepbrother and what he had done, the remorse he felt but the necessity for his actions, he would have felt some degree of understanding. His father and he were alike in many ways… Suffice to say the child looked up to the young man standing next to him; that would not change for a long time.

The shots rang through the air as the guards weapons were fired in one final salute to the fallen warrior that lay below, and he was a child again, filled with joy at the crack and boom of the rifles. For a time it was just another carnival to his child’s mind as he stood there mimicking the saluting soldiers around the now interred grave.