Answer:
Dead on the field lie ten soldiers in white killed by one blade yet there was no fight. What are they?
Marking mortal privation when firmly in place. An enduring summation inscribed in my face.
I can generate fear and some say I come out of your ears. I am as quiet as a mouse but not welcomed in the house. What am I?
I contain six letters minus one and you got twelve.
A spirited jig I dance bright, banishing all but darkest night. Air can't kill me but water can. Share me, I won't get less unless wind ruins me. What am I?
No matter how little or how much you use me, you change me every month.