Soon, the Free Cities...

O brave Prince, be not deceived!

Let not the beauty of arms beguile you:
     the flashing sunlit helms,
     the whipping horse-hair plumes,
     the sizzling shields
     that let not even the blowing dust mar their painted devices.

Think yourself not immortal
     as the lances crack, slaying desert beasts in the hunt.
     Imagine yourself not over-mighty
     as ray and blade clash in the arena.

When proud prows cut the air,
     and emitter sails drive a course over the clouds,
     you have not a god’s strength.

The destiny of all things is dust.
     Shields crack.
      Flesh burns.

When soldiers and hoplites fail,
     when heroes die,
     and women weep,
     even high walls tumble down.

Provoke not our enemy,
     nor tempt fate
     and the Worm in your bravado.

Strike, disappear.

Only when you truly perceive that there is no victory, only then will you be fit to enter the council chamber.


---From The Mirror of Pavadior

Turkish cavalry south of Jerusalem.  Wikipedia.