Brothers at War

Vivainne, Knight Exemplar, quietly along in heavenly peace, must follow a dusty frowning track. She enjoyed the riding and the promised quest. Whistling, a huge stone arm came out of the sky and buried itself halfway to the elbow, not two cubits awry. In another story, she thought, I am crushed. She dismounted, tied up and examined, looking up occasionally to check for more outsize stone parts following.

In a clearing not far, even near like a corner shop, a Knight and a trebuchet heaved on the next stone in line, hauling the levers about till the potential energy mounted up.

A man and his brother must shield all about with metal suits of war, He shouted with a muffled helmet voice, And throw stones at each other to keep up appearances, He raised his visor for a better view and pulled the release.

We are the same you and I, are we Brothers? He shouted across the valley to his Brother on the opposite hill, who in turn nursed another great flinging trebuchet. Let us fight, let us stop fighting, we have always fought, someone is always absent afterwards, an empty seat at the feast, instead, lying cold upon a table. Lost to us.

Vivainne asked why, as you would.

Men have always, said the Knight, shrugging his metallic shoulders, Either each other or someone new. Fight for the right to party, fight for freedom, fight the good fight, arm wrestle, single combat, melee, skirmish, front line, battleground, trench, dugout and bullet proof vest. You can tell from the number of related terms, we love it. It is in us, we cannot escape it.

Speak for yourself, said Vivainne.

In singles or in group battalions. Rushing about with deadly things across the escarpment and salient, Continued the Knight. So, therefore, My brother and I, Me and Him, thought it best to declare war on each to keep up appearances. Don’t let the side down. He throws things at me and I in return. For our ammunition, the broken parts of a stone giant, the knees in armour clad, the stone chest with cuirass and stone sword, great helm, visor down, arms in mail and gauntlet, sail across the briny blue sky.

Each day we sent flying several lethal stones towards each other’s position, each day the stones fall short and each day the stones are collected up for the volley.

Vivainne remonstrated with the Knight that she had almost been crushed by one of these flying sculptures and the Knight admitted that several pheasants, some goats, a useful horse, a greenhouse in shards, two fruit trees in kindling, a wooden bridge in match sticks and a loaf of bread in crumb, had recently been badly injured by the stones, but that he felt that it was his duty to continue flinging them through the clouds to uphold the values. Can a loaf be injured? My pride has been injured, dented beyond repair, my mind is a walnut whip, my heart a racing car on a bend, back wheels threatening to skid sideways.

Perhaps our wars are like a concert or demonstration, Mused Vivainne, Green berets atop, fingerless gloves and tattoos. Emergency medical kit, map, torch, compass, pencil, chewing gum, no not chewing gum, I’ve gone off it. Maybe some mountain mint cake for those moments of disappointment, stress or celebration. Mosquito netting, face paint and swim wear. Stand in line, duck, weave, crawl forwards, motionless. I spy with my little eye, something ending in destruction.

Another stone fell from the sky, a mailed foot perched atop a reposing lion crashed to the ground, pinning the Knight’s foot to the floor, right in front of Vivainne. He cried out in pain and anguish, ‘Ahhh, I am done for, my Brother in war has been trying his best to miss for months, bringing this stone war to my door. Now my toes are mushed and I will fight no more.’

Vivainne failed to release the Knight as the stone was mighty big, and she must call the other Brother on the other valley side. Together they pulled away the stone and unbent the Knight’s shoe.

Perhaps we should stop this war habit brother, said the Knight, Vivainne agreed, Though, she said, I am neither your Brother nor your Sister.

Let stopping wars being a thing from now, send a declaration to all the nations and people therein. The wars have stopped.