The Fiery Cross (Outlander, #5)

by Diana Gabaldon

Be your enemies destroyed before your eyes, Be your heart ever joyful in the lodge of your brothers.” “Ye’re meant to say it over and over again, a good many times,” he added, ducking his head apologetically. “Wi’ the drums, aye? But I thought once would do, for now.” “That will do fine, Ian,” Jamie assured him, and looked then toward Roger. Roger coughed and cleared his throat, then spoke, the husk of his voice as transparent and as penetrating as the smoke. “Lord, make me to know mine end, And the measure of my days, what it is; That I may know how frail I am. Behold, Thou has made my days as an hand-breadth; And mine age is as nothing before Thee. Hear my prayer, O Lord, and give ear unto my cry; Hold not Thy peace at my tears: For I am a stranger with Thee, And a sojourner, as all my fathers were.” We stood in silence then, as the darkness came quietly around us. As the last of the light faded and the leaves overhead lost their brilliance, Brianna picked up the pitcher of water, and poured it over the pot of coals. Smoke and steam rose up in a ghostly cloud, and the scent of remembrance drifted through the trees.

Funeral